Message-ID: <6224eli$9712081905@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: MyFrThAl Subject: New: Mark Aster: Reflection ((FF),FM) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Content-transfer-encoding: 7bit Content-type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII 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: <5e1ba1d8.3488b72a@aol.com> I'm tired of warnings and disclaimers; you can make up your own this time! Site plug: this and sixty-odd other stories available at http://users.aol.com/myfrthal/ as usual. Soon to be on the new Authors of Erotica Webring... Cheers to all! .. Mark My Friends the Allens -- Reflection by Mark Aster "Something that happened today," said Julie lazily, lying back and letting Pat undo the buttons of her shirt. "What happened today?" Pat asked. She kissed her sister's collarbone, and opened the shirt just a bit, baring the inner slopes of Julie's small round breasts, a smooth pale triangle of her stomach. "I was driving back from Suburbia, in the car, and the windshield was fogging up. So I turned on the little fan that blows air onto the inside of the windshield." "Clever girl," said Pat, quietly, slipping two fingers in under Julie's shirt right about where one perfect pink nipple must be. I snorted slightly, sitting in my chair across the room. I'd come in from singing the twins to sleep to find the girls necking on the couch. I could have gone over and joined in, probably, but sometimes a man has to be grumpy. "And then the fog went away, except that there was this upsidedown triangle that was still foggy, on the windshield there." Pat's other hand rubbed softly down Julie's stomach, across the bare skin and the downy hair. Julie closed her eyes and wriggled slightly lower on the couch, her legs spread, the short cotton skirt riding up her thighs, the picture of innocent depravity. "Triangle..." murmured Pat, and bent her head down over her sister's chest. "I noticed that the triangle was pointing at my beret that was sitting on the dashboard, on that flat place at the bottom of the windshield. So I moved my beret, and mmmmm that feels nice and then the triangle went away." Pat was licking gently at Julie's left nipple, and stroking her stomach with one hand. "God, a day to remember, eh?" I said. Too loudly. Both girls looked up at me, with essentially identical expressions. Then they turned to each other again. "You know," said Julie, "I don't think I'm going to fuck men anymore. Men don't understand." Pat grinned at her, and kissed her lips, and their mouths opened and they did that for a long time. Then Pat turned half around to the side table, while Julie untucked her shirt from her skirt. "Here, Man," said Pat, tossing me what looked like a business card. I missed it, and had to get up from my chair to pick it up. "Go there," she said. There was an address, and on the back Pat's signature. Julie sank lower on the couch, and Pat kissed Julie's nipples, and Pat's hand began to slide up under Julie's skirt. Julie opened her eyes and looked at me for a second. "Bye!" she said. And her eyes were as infinite and happy as ever. So I went. Feeling a little ambiguous, maybe. Sure they were just kidding, of course. It was an anonymous brownstone somewhere in a good neighborhood. It looked sort of familiar somehow; anonymous things always look familiar, I guess. A woman answered the bell, a small dark woman with straight hair down around her shoulders. She smiled at me when I gave her the card. "An interesting case," she said, "a very interesting case." Her lips moved in a way that made me want to kiss them. She walked up a long staircase ahead of me. "Third door on the right," she said, and went off. The third door on the right opened when I knocked. The woman in the room was tall, and lush, and naked. She came into my arms, and I kissed her, and she rubbed her body against me. I pressed my hands into the soft globes of her buttocks, and my cock swelled against her stomach. I woke up, naked in the bed, to soft grey light coming in through the window. I got up and shook my head, stretched and yawned, looked at myself in the big full-length mirror opposite the door. I put my hand up to my breasts, stroked across from nipple to nipple a few times, appreciating the softness. For some reason the reflection was turning me on. I tweaked my left nipple between my fingers, felt warmth growing between my legs, my clit stirring. I smiled at myself, slipped my other hand down my stomach, and rubbed my pussy with the back of my hand. It was very nice. I was just sliding a finger up inside when the door opened. He was tall and solid-looking, not wide, wearing shorts and a sport shirt, barefoot. It was good that he was here, looking at me naked, my finger wet with my juices, my mouth open. He came into the room slowly and closed the door behind him. He walked to me, and I turned to face him. He reached out with one hand, took my left shoulder in an easy grip, pulled me closer to him, my nipples against the fabric of his shirt. I could smell him. "We can do it slowly if you like," he said, "or fast. Or first fast then slow. Or fast again and again, many times." My skin felt cold, my nipples clenched into stiff little fists, but my stomach and thighs were warm, hot, liquid. Kiss me now, I thought at him, kiss me hard, on the mouth. He did. He tasted of yeast and honey, his tongue was smooth and muscular as it slipped into my mouth and along my teeth. His arms were around me, holding me up, pulling my naked body against him. I opened my legs, pressed my pussy against his leg, rubbing myself across him like a cat in heat. I moaned, I must have moaned. I was on the bed, on my back, my legs apart, panting. "God, you are beautiful," he said to me, and I knew it was true, I was beautiful, and he was going to have me there on the bed, and I was going to come and come until I screamed, and I was going to make him come inside of me. He took off his shirt. Looking me in the face he took off his shorts, and his penis pointed out from a patch of thick dark hair. I watched his thighs as he stepped to the bed; there was a small black mole at the top of his right leg, and I wanted to kiss it and tongue it and run my fingers over the shaft of his cock. He lay on top of me, kissing my mouth and stroking my sides with his hands. He slid his penis between my legs and rocked his hips, and the hot hard length of it slipped back and forth over my pussy, and I opened up and my honey coated his shaft. He raised himself up, took one of my nipples between his fingers, rolled it back and forth. My back arched and my mind went away. He whispered to me. His cock pulsed, just outside my opening. "Do you want me to take you from behind? Do you want me in your anus? Do you want me in your mouth? I would like to be in your mouth." I wanted him in my mouth, his hardness inside me, his cock far up in my cunt, coming and coming. "Yes," I managed to say, "yes, I want that." He smiled, and he put his head to my chest, and his mouth suckled on my breasts, and his hands spread my thighs apart. His mouth moved down, and my muscles spasmed. He was lying back on the bed, and I lay between his legs, my lips on his cock, and he groaned and grunted as I licked and sucked the throbbing hardness. I kissed the mole on his thigh while my fingers traced the veins of his staff. I squeezed him with my hands, made a circle with my fingers at the base of his shaft, cradled his balls in my other hand, took the smooth head between my lips, and he cried out and his legs stiffened. "Christ Jesus," almost shouting, "AHH!" But I kept him from coming, because I wanted him to fuck me. He pulled my face to his, kissed me long and greedy on the mouth, then turned me onto my stomach and pulled my hips up toward him. I felt his wet cock against my ass, then his fingers on my pussy, opening me, and then oh God then his cock sliding inside me. He was fucking me finally he was in me and it was like I was a virgin the in and out opening me and my body turning to water. Fucking me in long slow strokes and his hands pulling my hips. My body rocked back and forth, I pushed myself up on my elbows so I could push back against him better, drive him further into me, and he groaned and my breasts rubbed against the tangled sheets and he fucked me and fucked me and I came in a long impossible contraction of my cunt and my stomach and my mind. And while I was still coming he pulled out of me, and turned me over, and spread my legs again, and he lay on me and put it into me again, and I screamed and he gasped into my ear, and he kissed my face, and he called me Angel and Dona and Love until he came. Then we curled up together, with my head on his chest, breathing in the sweet sweaty warmth of him, my hand on his quiet soft penis, and we fell asleep, with his fingers stroking my hair. I woke sometime later, in the dark, as she got back into the bed. "Call of nature, love," she whispered, kneeling naked beside me to turn back the sheet. I reached out one hand, found her heavy warm breast, cupped it in my hand. She sighed. My other hand found her thigh, caressed the dark mole by her vulva, pressed up into the fur between her legs. Her hand brushed by my stomach, curled around my cock. "Fuck me again," she whispered, "my beautiful one." Her tits swung against my face as we fucked in the dark, and I licked them and squeezed them with my hands. When I got home, Pat came into my arms easily, and kissed me soundly and erotically, pressing her lovely body against me. A child laughed somewhere behind her. "Have a nice time?" she asked. "Yeah," I said. "Y'all still not fucking men?" "Heck," she smiled, "that's much too much fun to give up for good." And she looked into my eyes. "Don't you think?" My Friends the Allens -- Reflection by Mark Aster -- +--------------' 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> /