Message-ID: <5427eli$9711061308@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: MyFrThAl@aol.com Subject: REPOST: Mark Aster: Friction (MF,MFF,some anal) 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: <971106064722_506238350@emout05.mail.aol.com> It's been awhile since I reposted "Dyke Crossing", to which this is really the sequel. It also stands by itself, though; if you like "Friction", you can find "Dyke Crossing" and sixtyish other stories at http://users.aol.com/myfrthal/ Feedback very very welcome, as always! Maybe if I'm very good Lady Cyrrh will review this one too... .. Mark My Friends the Allens -- Friction by Mark Aster = = = Note: this story contains graphic accounts of sexual relations between consenting adults. If you are a minor, a U.S. Senator, or anyone else whose brain implodes when exposed to such things, stop reading now, and go take a cold shower. = = = Sometime during the night, Pat Allen slipped out of Mike's bed, came down the stairs, and slid between the sheets beside me. I woke up just enough to put one hand on her hip, and drifted back to sleep with the warm smoothness of her skin under my palm. In the morning, I opened my eyes to find myself looking into hers, warm and sleepy and freshly-awakened. We smiled, and I kissed her lightly on the mouth, her lips soft and innocent and yielding. "Good morning," she whispered, and she kissed me back, eyes closing lazily, and she touched my chest and moved her fingers warmly over my body. I touched her side and stroked the taut swell of her stomach, where her pregnancy was just beginning to show. She pressed her body against my hand softly, and her fingers circled the base of my cock. "So what do you think of Mike?" she asked, as my penis swelled in her hand. Mike is annoying. She says she "doesn't take part in male culture", but she calls herself by a man's name. She wears her hair in a buzz-cut as a statement of individuality, but then she wears a floppy leather hat over it almost all the time. She says erotic pictures of naked women are exploitative, but she has an erotic picture of a naked woman tattooed on her stomach. She is fascinating, but because I'm a man she'll never let me touch her. "I don't think she likes me," I said ruefully. "That's mostly because of this," answered Pat, giving my cock a long affectionate squeeze. She kissed my shoulder. I said nothing for awhile, just lay there with my hand resting on her belly, her fingers stroking my skin. "Is that fair?" I asked eventually, and gasped as her hand squeezed me again. "If life were fair," she said, sliding one long sexy leg over me, "Mike wouldn't have nearly as much to be angry about." And then she swung her hips up over mine, and her hand guided the head of my cock between her labia, and her mouth covered my lips. I slid my hands down her back and cupped her ass, and her tongue played over my teeth as I slowly penetrated her, the warm bulge of her stomach pressing into me. As my penis moved deeper into her body, she gasped and purred, and I felt the wetness of her pussy flowing around me. Cool morning air drifted in through the open window and over our bodies. We fucked for a long time. Pat came once very quickly, her eyes wide and her mouth open, her hips bucking and her cunt sucking up and down my unyielding staff. Then she lay her head on my chest, my cock still deep inside her, and kissed my skin with her soft lips. I circled my hips slowly and caressed her sides, and she moaned. I took my time, moving in and out of her at a slow relentless pace, letting the tension build. "Make me come," she whispered, teasing, in my ear, "make me come again." Eventually we did, my cock swelling and throbbing inside her, the head plunging deep and the shaft stroking her tender clit, her head back, eyes closed, long incredulous moans coming from her lovely throat. Her second orgasm was long and intense, and the beauty of her body and the contractions of her cunt brought me over the edge, and I groaned and gasped and filled her pussy with the hot whiteness of my cum. She collapsed onto me with one final moan, scream, of delight. We lay, not speaking, and felt the air drying the wetness on our skin. "Aw!" came an ironic voice from the doorway, "How cozy! How safe! How very acceptable!" Pat raised her head, looked at me, and rolled her eyes. "Scuse me," she muttered, and got up. In the doorway stood Mike, with a robe covering her wide hips, small round breasts, amazing tattoos. And of course with her hat on her head. Pat strode across the room, naked and fragrant. She stopped very close to Mike, and put out a hand. She took Mike's chin in her fingers, and squeezed, so that Mike's mouth crumpled up. Mike's eyes widened. The day before, watching Pat and Mike talking, fucking, I'd gotten the impression that Mike was taller than Pat. But just then she wasn't. Pat's other hand came up, caressed Mike's forehead, and moved slowly and possessively down her face. "Dear Mike", Pat said, "dear, dear Mike." Her fingers fondly dented the skin of Mike's cheek, "I am not a secret Lesbian who fucks men just for shelter. I am ME, and I love fucking him, and I love fucking you, because that's ME, and that's the way my mind and my body and my heart are put together." Pat's fingers touched Mike's mouth, opening her lips. "Okay?" And before Mike could answer, Pat lowered her hands and kissed her, hard and open and beautifully, on her crumpled mouth, and put her arms around her. After a moment, Mike's arms came up and wrapped around Pat's naked back, and Mike's body curved into Pat's embrace. The kiss finished, and Mike stepped back. "Yeah," she said, her eyes narrow and appraising, "yeah, sure." Her mouth curved, "You've done a hell of a lot of growing up since college, haven'tcha?" "Yep," said Pat. And she tilted her head at me. "Let's all go get some breakfast." That afternoon Mike and I went for a walk in the Park. It was a lovely June day, and Pat had thrown us out. We bought ice cream from a vendor on the green, and walked over to the picnic tables. Mike was wearing loose combat shorts and a sleaveless t-shirt; I tried not to admire her too obviously. She licked around the edge of her cone; her tongue was long and sharp. "She's real fond of you," Mike said, perching on the edge of a table and looking off across the green. "I love her," I said. One corner of her mouth twisted upwards, but she didn't say anything. "You?" I asked. "Did once." Her voice was low, and a little rough. She seemed to be watching something off in the distance. She smiled. "She's something, i'n't she?" "Yeah." She turned suddenly and looked at me, a drip of ice cream overflowing the cone and rolling down her hand. She took a deep breath. "Look, I don't know if I'm going to like you, 'cause you're a hetboy, and you knocked up my friend." The light caught her eyes, and her nostrils flared slightly. "But maybe we can stand each other. The Strumpet had an idea..." "Strumpet" is Mike's nickname for Pat's younger sister, Julie. Julie has GOOD ideas. That evening after dinner, Mike and Julie went out to a movie, and I took Pat back to the bedroom and slowly stripped her. She stood smiling as I undid her buttons and slipped off her clothes. I touched her breasts lightly and kissed her mouth, but when she reached for my zipper, I turned her around, lay her down on her front on the bed. I slipped a pillow under her hips to take the pressure off her womb, and gave her a long slow backrub. She purred. Her body was warm and firm under my hands, and her muscles gradually relaxed. Eventually, she was a happy puddle of woman, her face pressed into the pillows, her eyes closed. I slid off of her and switched off the lights. She opened one eye. "Boink?" she murmured. I ruffled her hair gently, "Sleep," I suggested. "Okey," she said, and soon she was snoring quietly. I pulled a sheet up over her glorious ass, and settled down to wait. After full darkness, I heard low sounds from the livingroom, and the soft meep of the microwave. Julie came in quietly and put the warm little jar of scented oil down on the nighttable. She touched my cheek and went out again. I slipped out of my clothes, and dipped two fingers into the jar. The smell filled my head, reminded me of another night, flesh on flesh, ragged breathing. My cock began to stiffen, and I ran my fingers over it, coating it with the smooth slippery cream. Then I pulled the covers gently down Pat's long naked legs, and taking another fingerful from the jar I gently spread her buttocks. I coated the crack of her ass, gently stroking the cream into her skin, around the puckered flower of her anus. "Mmmmmmm," she hummed sleepily, "mmmm, Your Highness, this is so sudden!" She bent slightly at the hips, pressing the hot skin of her ass against my fingers and opening herself wider. I knelt behind her and slid my slippery cock, now quite hard, up and down in the oiled crack of her ass, enjoying the heat of her skin. She wriggled her bottom, and I rose up, pointing myself downward, and pressing against her asshole. The tip of my cock slid into her, but met resistance. I nuzzled gently at her, and she sighed deeply, and her muscles relaxed, and I slipped slowly into her, the double ring of muscle caressing and squeezing me as my cock entered her anus. Then I was in her to the hilt, my hips against her buttocks; her muscles clenched and relaxed, squeezing the tears from my cock and making me gasp. Pat's mouth was open, her breathing deep and slow. Then Mike, naked, walked softly to the bed. I wrapped my hands around Pat's hips and turned her onto her side, my cock still in the grip of her ass. Mike lay in front of her, and kissed her face, and softly kneaded her breasts. Pat gasped, and moaned, and laughed, helplessly happy sounds, and the muscles of her anus began to twitch rhythmically around me. I pulled out of her an inch, and slowly pressed back in; Mike pulled Pat's upper leg over her, and slipped one hand between Pat's thighs, stroking her pussy as she kissed her mouth, and my cock filled her ass. Pat began to come, her body shuddering and arching between us. As she came, her asshole clenched and relaxed, clenched and relaxed around my cock, in sharp twitches that sent waves of pleasure through my body. We were merciless. We kept Pat's body pinned between us, writhing, trapped in orgasm, my penis moving more insistently in and out of her from behind, Mike's mouth kissing her big warm breasts and sucking her nipples; I felt Mike's fingers slipping into her soft honeyed cunt, deep caresses pressing and stroking through the tissues of Pat's body, the growing heaviness of her womb near my cock. The contractions of her anus became longer and more intense. A final long string of orgasms took her, and Mike held her face and kissed her gasping mouth as her body bucked between us, and with a long groan I came in her ass, my semen spurting into her as her muscles spasmed and she screamed. My cock slipped limply from between Pat's cheeks, pushed out by the muscles of her anus, and Pat collapsed, still gasping and shuddering and laughing, her face hidden in the pillows, her arms limp and unmoving on Mike's naked body, her breathing quick and deep and sated. Something white floated before my face in the dimness. Mike's hand. I reached out and shook it; her grip was strong and warm. My Friends the Allens -- Friction by Mark Aster The End -- +--------------' 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> /