Message-ID: <3082eli$9708172036@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: kristen78@aol.com (Kristen78) Subject: Kristen's collection: (Alya.txt Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-Id: <19970817184201.OAA28845@ladder02.news.aol.com> Here's a pretty story..........K [ from Kristen's collection ] __________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age (Under 18 years old) PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW! __________________________________________ Scroll down to view Story Archive name: (Ayla.txt Authored by: Jean A. Story Title: Alya's Story~ ``````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````` This story describes a sexual relationship between a man and a woman. If sex offends you, or you are under 18 years old, please delete this file now! `````````````````from Kristen's collection````````````````````` It reminded Ayla of the small river in her valley, with its fuming, churning waterfall blocking the way upstream. They let the current carry them along, splashing each other and laughing along the way. Ayla loved the sound of the mans laughter. Though he smiled, he didn't laugh often, tending instead to exhibit a more serious demeanor, but when he did, it was such a big, hearty, exuberant laugh, it came as a surprise. When they got out of the pool and dried off, it was still warm. The dark cloud Ayla had noticed earlier was gone from the sky above them, but the sun was lowering toward a black and brood- ing mass languishing in the west. She kneeled on the sleeping bag,and began to comb her wet hair. The man sat beside her and began to comb his own hair with a three-pronged comb, struggling with some tangles. "Let me do that for you," she said, getting up on her knees behind him. She combed loose the knots in his long, straight yellow hair, a lighter shade than hers, admiring the color of it. When she was a child, her hair had been almost white, but it had become somewhat darker and now had an ashy golden hue. The man closed his eyes while Ayla worked on his hair, but he was aware of her warm presents behind him as her bare skin brushed against his back now and then, and by the time she was through, he was feeling a warmth from more than the sun. "Now it's my turn to comb your hair," hr said, getting up to move behind her. For a moment, she thought about objecting. It wasn't necessary. He didn't have to comb her hair just because she'd combed his, but when he lifted her thick hair off her neck and pulled it through his fingers, like a caress, she acquiesced. Her hair had a tendency to curl, and it tangled easily, but he worked carefully, freeing each snarl with very little pulling. She closed her eyes, feeling a strange, shivery delight. He mother had combed her hair for her when she was a little girl, but no man ever had before. His combing of her hair gave her an intense feeling of being cared for and loved. And he discovered that he enjoyed combing and brushing her hair. The dark gold color reminded him of prairie grass, but with sun-bleach highlights that were nearly white. It was beautiful, and so thick and soft, handling it was sensuous pleasure that made him want more. When he finished, he put the brush down, then lifted up the slightly damp tresses, and, moving then aside, bent down to kiss her shoulders and the back of her neck. Ayla kept her eyes closed, feeling the tingles caused by his warm breath and soft lips as he brushed them lightly over her skin. He nibbled at her neck and caressed both her arms, then reached around to hold both breasts, lifting them and feeling their pleasant substantial weight,and the firm, upright nipples in his palms. When he reached around to kiss her throat, Ayla lifted her head and turned slightly, then felt his hot rigid organ against her back. She turned around and took it in her hands, enjoying the softness of the skin that covered the warm hard shaft. She put one hand over the other, and moved them firmly up and down, and the man felt a surge of sensation, but the feeling magnified beyond measure when he felt the warm wetness of her mouth enclose him. Letting out an explosive sigh, he closed his eyes as the sen- sations coursed through his body. Then he opened his eyes a crack to watch, and could not help but reach for the soft beautiful hair that filled his lap. When she drew him in farther, he thought for a moment he could not hold back and would give it up at that instant. But he wanted to wait, wanted the exquisite pleasure it gave him to pleasure her. He loved to do it, loved knowing he could. He would almost be willing to give up his own pleasure to pleasure her... almost. Hardly knowing how she got there, Ayla found herself on her back on top of the sleeping bag, with the man stretched out beside her. He kissed her. She opened her mouth a little, just enough to allow his tongue entrance, and put her arms around him. She loved the way it felt when his lips were firmly on hers, with his tongue gently exploring. Then he pulled away and looked down at her. "Woman, do you have any idea how much I love you?" She knew it was true. She could see it in his eyes, his bril- liant, vivid, unbelievable blue eyes that caressed with their look, and even from a distance, could send shivers through her. His eyes expressed the emotions he tried so hard to keep under control. "I know how much I love you," Ayla said. She was grateful to be with him, her love for the tall man who was holding her in his arms was beyond anything she could explain. And his powerful need was directly communicated to Ayla's warm and inviting body. Suddenly he was kissing her neck and her shoulders and her breasts, as though he couldn't get enough of her. He suddenly clutched her to him tightly with fierce need. She held him, too. Then he stopped and took a deep breath. He wanted to make it last, and he wanted to use his skill to give her the best he could - and he was skilled. The man looked down on her, watching her breathe, loving the sight of her full, womanly form, and delighted in the mere fact of her existence. His shadow fell across her, blocking the heat of the sun. Ayla opened her eyes and looked up. The brilliant sun behind him gleamed through his hair surrounded his shadowed face with a golden aura. She wanted him, was ready for him, but when he smiled and bent down to kiss her navel, she closed her eyes again and gave herself up to him, knowing what he wanted, and the pleasure he could make her feel. He held her breasts, then slowly ran his hand along her side, to the curving in of her waist and lush swelling of her hip, then down her thigh. She tingled at each touch. He brought his hand back up her inner thigh, feeling the special softness there, and over the springy golden curls of her mound. He caressed her stomach, then bent to kiss her navel before he reached fro her breasts again, and kissed both nipples. His hands were like gentle fire, feeling warm and wonderful, and left her burning with excitement. He caressed her again, and her skin remembered every place he touched. He kissed her on the mouth and gently, slowly, kissed her eyes and her cheeks, her chin and her jaw, then breathed into her ear. His tongue found the hollow of her throat and continued down between her breasts. He took each one in his hands and held them together, delighting in their fullness, the slight salty taste of her, and the feel of her skin, as his own desire was mounting. His tongue tickled one nipple, then the other, and then she felt the deep throbbing surge as he pulled it in his mouth. He explored her nipple with his tongue, pressing, pulling, nibbling lightly, then reached for the other with his hand. She pressed up to him, losing herself in the sensations coursing through her body, and centered on the seat of pleasure she felt deep within. With his warm tongue, he found her navel again, and as a light wind blew cool on her skin, he circled and then dropped lower, to the soft fur of her mound, then for a quick moment to her warm slit and hard node of her pleasure. She raised her hips to him, and cried out. He nestled between her legs, and with his hands, opened her to look at her warm rosy flower of petals and folds. He dipped down to taste, he knew her taste and loved it, then reached up higher for the small, hard node, she cried out again and again her breath coming faster, and the serge inside building. All feeling was turned inward, there was no wind, no sun, only the rising intensity of her senses. He knew it was coming, and though he could hardly hold back himself, he slowed and backed off, hoping to draw it out, but she reached for him unable to wait. As it came closer, building, growing, tightening with anticipation, he could hear her moans of pleasure. Suddenly it was there, the powerful shuddering waves seizing her, then with a convulsive cry, crashing over her. She burst with the spasm of release, and with it came the indescribable desire to feel his manhood inside her. She reached for him, trying to bring him to her. He felt her spurt of wetness on his tongue and, sensing her need for him, raised up, clasping his eager shaft to guide it into her deep and welcoming well. She felt him enter and raised up to meet him as he plunged into her. The embrace of her warm folds encircled him, and he penetrated deeply, feeling no fear that his size was more than she could hold. That was part of the wonder of her, that she matched him. He pulled out, feeling the exquisite pleasure of the movement, and with complete abandon, plunged in again, deeply, while she raised up tight against him. He almost reached his peak, but the intensity backed down, and he pulled out again, then pushed in again, and again, with each stroke building higher. Pulsing with the sensations of his movement, she felt the fullness of him, then his drawing back and filling her again, and was beyond feeling anything else. She heard his strong breathing, and her own, as their cries mingled. Then he cried out her name, she rose to meet him, and with a great overflowing burst, they felt a release that matched the fiery sun in it's glowing flame as it shot it's last bright rays into the valley, and dropped behind the dark and rolling clouds, outlined in burnished gold. -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ .../assm/faq.html> /