This work is Copyright grumbles@juno.com, all rights reserved.  Don't
repost or cut this up, unless I get a bunch of money.

This is porn.  It's vile, evil, and despicable.  It will rot your brain,
ruin your eyes, destroy your marriage, and send you straight to hell. 
That goes double for anyone who is a minor.  If you're in a police state
somewhere that this is illegal, go ahead and read it, you probably need
it.  Then again, don't come sobbing to me when the secret police beat
your ass.  Don't leave this out where your kids can see it, or if you do
expect grandkids pretty soon. :)

The Y2K Bet (MF cons stroke)
by grumbles (grumbles@juno.com)

12/27/99

"You're full of shit, James," the red headed computer programmer sighed
wearily, "You really ought to take some time out and learn something. All
that Art Bell drivel is rotting your brain.  I told you already Y2K is
just a bunch of hype. Give it up!" 

For the fifth time this month, Tricia was arguing with her neighbor from
across the hall.  James wasn't always an idiot, he just obsessed about
the little shit.  Trish had been making big bucks fixing the minor
glitches in software for hysterical business owners with old systems.  If
James were to take the word of anyone, why not hers? 

"How do you know, Trish?  I mean what if something does happen, and
civilization collapses, you won't be prepared!"  James rattled on his
usual litany of plagues, terrors, and computer malfunctions which made
that Pharaoh guy's problems look like a head cold.  It was a shame too,
he was a pretty normal looking guy.  He just read too many conspiracy
magazines, or something similar. 

She looked him over subtly while he waved his arms and capered around;
he looked rather handsome.  Well, if you overlook the crazed terror his
eyes always got when he went on about the end of the world.  He had a
swimmer's body, trim and lithe, and she knew how strong he was.  She
still remembered when he playfully picked her up in one arm and
effortlessly carried her down the stairs. She felt herself getting a
little warmer actually, his proximity and strength had been very
arousing. 

She was startled out of her reverie when he touched her arm, leaning in
to emphasize his point.  "Is that a risk you're willing to take, to be
totally unprepared for the end of the world?" He shook his head in a
disapproving manner, her obvious reluctance to join in the mob's frenzy
frustrated him to no end. 

She laughed, hoping he wouldn't notice how red her face had become at
his touch.  She said flippantly, "I think that it IS a risk I'm willing
to take, I do after all have a little information on my side.  I'm not a
gambling girl, but I know nothing's going to happen." 

"You really want to bet on that though," said James with surprise,
"After all if you're right then you haven't won anything, and if I'm
right you'll be begging me for food and fresh water!"  She really wanted
to shut him up, the argument had never gone anywhere yet, and wouldn't
until it was all over.   Her eyes lit up with an idea, sometimes James
was more helpful than he could imagine!

"If you're so sure, then yes!  Let's bet," Trish said with a sadistic
undertone to her voice.  After all, the phrase 'never bet on a sure
thing' was meant for gentlemen, not for her.  "If I win, you have to get
me into that exclusive health club you go to. I know the waiting list
takes months but I want to be working out right after my resolutions are
finished!" She finished with a flair; it was something he could get her
with only a little trouble, but she'd rather force it out of him than ask
him. 

"Wait a second, it's all well and good for you to talk about what you
get when you win," James sputtered, "But what do I get if I win?  After
all, civilization will collapse and it's not like you can write me a
check!" 

Trish grinned slightly, nobody said he wasn't a bright boy.  "All right
then James, I tell you what.  I don't have time to quibble with you now,
you give it some thought tonight and call me tomorrow and let me know,
okay?"  With a schoolgirl flounce she turned and marched her petite form
back to the door of her apartment.  As she closed the door behind her,
she heard James call out one last time.  "You've got a bet, hon!" 

12/28/99

Trish lay back on the cushy red couch in her apartment, an easy 15
minutes away from her latest job, with a Fortune 500 company needing Y2K
programming muscle at the last minute.  Her apartment was modest, but
suited her just fine.  A computer in both rooms, neatly networked and
decked in scented candles.  It didn't have too much expensive furniture,
but she didn't throw tea parties either.  Rolling her neck around to get
the kinks out, she listened to her messages.  Fast forwarding through a
few Christmas thanks and one from her mother she'd have to go back to,
she found the one she hoped for.

"Heeey Trish, this is James!  I came up with just the thing, but I want
to tell you about it.  I'll call back at six to talk to ya!"  She deleted
the message and looked across the room at the luminous clock numerals.
Ten minutes left, she could do that.  While she waited she caught up on
e-mail, puttering around cleaning up the last bits of mess from her
Christmas alone.  Right on time, the phone rang. 

"Hey James," she said in as relaxed a tone as she could manage.

"Okay Trish, you're SURE you want to bet on this," he asked in a
surprisingly nervous voice.  Maybe what she asked for was too difficult
for him.  Well it was too late now. 

"Of course, did you come to your senses and realize I was right all
along yet, hon?"

"No, but once we make the bet, no matter who wins, we'll go through with
it right?  No backing out?" 

"Absolutely, I wouldn't back out.  What do you want if you're right
already, spit it out!"

He paused for a moment.  Trish took the time to slide over to the
computer and open up a web browser.

"I want you to sleep with me."

"Sure, sure.  It's a bet, not like you'll win anyway."

"Trish, did you hear what I said?  If I win, I want you to," he faltered
momentarily, "to have sex with me." 

Trish did a double take.  That's what I get for not paying attention I
suppose, she thought to herself.  "Wow, James, I never knew you felt that
way about me.  I'm flattered, really, but I don't know about that. That's
a pretty personal thing to ask, don't you think?" 

"Hey now Trish, what did we say about backing out?  I realize that the
bet isn't even, so I'll up the ante.  If you win, I'll get you into the
club and I'll pay for your personal trainer for the first four months.
You *did* agree after all," he pointed out almost petulantly. 

Well, what was there to lose?  It's not like she'd have to actually go
through with it, it was just the principle of the thing.  Trish shrugged
her shoulders.  It wouldn't be so bad if he took it wrong, after all.
"Alright damn it, alright.  You've got a deal."

He seemed startled, she had to repeat herself.  "Well wow, okay," his
voice found its old bravado, "I'll see you at nine then, my place?"  With
a click, he was gone.  She sat staring at her computer screen unseeing
for a few moments.  Her mind wandering, she imagined what might happen if
she did happen to lose.  Fumbling around in the dark, finding a
flashlight, James smiling confidently in the half darkness, coming for
her to claim his winnings. 

The ringing of the phone interrupted her.  She jumped, suddenly
realizing her robe was half open.  She calmed her breathing and answered.
It was her mother calling with typical motherly conversation, but Trish
noticed with a blush just how arousing her momentary fantasy had been.
She rolled her thighs and hips gently, feeling the cool air on the
moistness of her exposed panties.  That night as she lay in bed awake,
she saw in her mind's eye James' warm, possessive smile.  When she did
sleep, her dreams were vivid.

12/31/99

It hadn't been difficult to get the night off; Trish just tripled her
hourly rate for the evening and the supervisor decided he'd make do with
the staff on salary.  With an afternoon off, she'd fought the mall and
dodged the crazy drivers drinking a little early.  Looking over the
rewards of her shopping trip, she thought it was well worth the money.

She stood in front of the full length mirror in her bedroom.  Spaghetti
straps held up a short red dress, altered so that it fit her waist and
hips snugly.  She ran her hands over her breasts and trailed down her
side, turning to smooth the velvet material over her rounded ass.  Slit
up well past mid thigh on the side, the hem stopped well short of her
knees. 

Glad I'm wearing the high-rise bikini, she thought to herself bemused,
or it wouldn't be too hard to guess what color her panties were. Thinking
again, she decided differently.  Wobbling slightly in her red heels, she
slipped the lacy silk over her hips and past her stockings. Stopping
momentarily to resnap her garters, she stepped out of them altogether. 

She ran her hand over her hips and crotch, feeling the cool air and soft
fabric against her warm lips.  Feeling delightfully naughty, she turned
out the lights and walked out the door.  Even though she was a few
minutes early, James opened the door immediately.  His apartment was
warm, the yellow flickering light from many candles filled the room. 

"I see you're prepared, James," Trish said with a chuckle, "but how will
you know if the world ends?"  She looked around the apartment; it really
was a nice place.  Candles graced every horizontal surface except his
coffee table, which was set with fine silver and dishes of something that
looked very complicated. 

"I thought we'd watch the ball drop actually, the shows should be
something.  I hope you don't mind I made some dinner," James said as he
played host.  He was dressed very nicely, a form fitting button up shirt
that looked silk and a pair of pants that showed off his ass to great
effect.  He looked very polished, handsome.  He put on the TV to a local
channel that had Times Square on, and sat down to eat.

The dinner was delicious, some French dish she couldn't try to
pronounce.  They sat and talked for a while, watching the muted capering
of various artists and party goers on the TV.  The clock read one minute
to eleven, the count down beamed live from the East coast where they were
inches from the crisis moment.  The partying got rough, very rough, and
the police around the stage were working hard just to protect themselves.

The count down began, and Trish decided to be a bit early.  With a shout
of "Happy New Year" she leaned over and kissed him on the lips, with
perhaps a little more passion than she intended.  Their lips wrestled
gently, and she slipped her tongue in his mouth.  Her breasts pressed
against him; she could feel her pulse in her chest and throat.  One of
his hands moved up to stroke her side as the other stroked the back of
her neck gently.  She pulled back and leaned against his side a little.
The countdown was just reaching ten. 

"A little early are we," asked James, short of breath though he was.
Trish just smiled, watching the ball get closer and closer.  The crowd
victoriously shouted and cheered as the guy with the mike announced the
dawning of the new millennium.  His words were barely out of his mouth
when the TV picture abruptly disappeared.  Silence descended on the
apartment, not even the heater was working. 

"Shit," Trish almost shouted, "What the fuck?"  James put his arm around
her, more to calm her than out of predatory instinct.  She took a few
deep breaths.  The candles kept the room flickering in a warm rosy light.
 They sat for a moment, listening to the silence and shouts of dismay
from the neighbors.  Trish felt his hand gently stroking her shoulder,
letting her know in an almost brotherly way that he was still here for
her.  After a few minutes, Trish got up the courage to speak. 

"James do you remember the bet we made?," she asked with a quivering
voice.  When he mumbled his attention, she continued, "I guess you did
win after all.  So, well, do you think we should just..."

"Trish, I know what we said," interrupted James, "But if you're
uncomfortable with this or if you have changed your mind then we can
forget the..."  She turned back towards him and silenced him with a kiss,
caressing his neck and chest with her nails.  After the initial surprise,
he melted into her arms, stroking her back feebly as he lay beneath her.

She took his hand, and placed it on the thin material covering her
breast.  Taking the hint, he began to knead with his hand, stroking the
exposed top with his fingertips and rubbing his palms in little circles
over the nipple.  She moaned into his mouth as the warmth ran through,
sucking his tongue fiercely.  His hand moved down her side, cupping her
ass and lightly drawing the fabric over her bare skin.  Trish spread her
legs slightly, allowing him access to her thighs.

Moving to his neck, Trish began to lick and suck gently behind his ear.
His strong hand kneaded the flesh of her bare thigh above her stocking,
tickling the skin at the hem of her skirt.  She moaned again,
plaintively, pushing her hips forward against his hand.  James ran his
hand over the smooth flesh of her thigh, stroking slowly towards the heat
he felt radiating from her sex.  When his fingers found the bare moist
lips and light fur of her mound, his cock twitched in his pants. 

She gasped in his ear, legs stiffening as he lightly brushed his fingers
between her lips and the length of her slit.  He settled into a steady
rhythm, stroking the outer and inner lips ever so lightly with his
fingertips.  Her hands flew to his belt, caressing his now erect penis
through the material before unbuckling and unzipping.  Her slim warm hand
wrapped around his shaft and stroked gently, circling the head and
teasing the little opening at the top. 

He started to slide down the couch, leaning towards her sex.  She
stopped him with a hand on his chest, forcing him to lay back.  He caught
her eye curiously, his hips unconsciously thrusting every so slightly up
at the cold air.  She lifted her knee over him and straddled him, leaning
against him and pressing her tongue deeply into his mouth.  The head of
his penis rubbed gently at the top of her slit, tickling the trim hair of
her soft mons and grazing her inner lips.  She reached beneath herself
and grabbed his already wet shaft.  She groaned as she felt him enter
her, pressing herself down over him as she slowly pulled him deep inside
her.

She felt the bone above his penis finally pressing against her clit. 
Nestled against him with her hips lewdly spread around his, Trish watched
her watery shadow on the wall.  Her shadow's arms slipped the straps of
the dress off its shoulders, and her skin felt hot to the touch as she
ran her hands over her chest and breasts, pushing the skirt to her waist.
 James leaned forward, his hot lips closed around her breast.  His teeth
found her hard nipple and she gasped.  She squirmed her hips, rubbing her
clit against his pubic bone and feeling his penis throb inside her.

She started to buck, her vaginal muscles clenching and stretching in
time with her thrusting hips.  She felt filled, his hands caressing her
warm back and cupping her bare ass, riding him for her own pleasure.  She
looked down, noticing with amusement how lewd her splayed lips looked
around his penis; the flimsy skirt had ridden up her hips and only hung
gently over her ass.  She leaned into him, feeling her excitement rise as
he started to thrust up against her.  She could feel his urgent need, and
his breath was coming in gasps.

She began to grind herself against him, feeling his strokes  deeper and
deeper as she moaned into his ear.  She shivered, the warmth spreading
from her vagina and nipples cascaded over her in waves, crashing through
her and exploding in the back of her head.  She flung herself down on his
rippling penis and clung to him as the waves of pleasure made her whole
body tremble. 

She clenched her muscles around him, feeling his climax as he grunted
over her shoulder.  His hands grabbed her ass roughly, pushing her down
on his lap as he came.  She felt him pulsing inside, the image of his
semen spraying deep inside her caused her whole body to tremble, a mini
orgasm fluttered through her in the wake of the first.  They lay together
for several minutes, catching their breath. 

Rolling off of him, she felt their joined fluids running down her thighs
and pooling on the couch against her ass.  She ran a hand over his sweat
soaked shirt, murmuring appreciatively into his ear.  Resting her head on
his shoulder, she checked her watch.  Twenty minutes, on the nose.  The
heater sputtered and came to life, followed quickly by the bluish light
from the TV.  Shouts of joy and revelry came from other apartments, and
stereos began blasting party music once more.  James looked at her
wild-eyed and confused, but she shushed him with a finger.  "Right on
time!"