Message-ID: <11001eli$9805072332@qz.little-neck.ny.us> From: hrichard@bellatlantic.net (Hawk Richards) Subject: (ASS) "Second Chances" by Hawk Richards Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Mime-Version: 1.0 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: <3552206b.2400485@news6.bellatlantic.net> Disclaimer: Nobody under 18 years old should read this. Plus, you may never sell this story or make money off it by posting it on a page that uses Adult Check or other adult verification systems. You are allowed one personal copy, but you must not delete the headers, discliamer or change any information. Note: This story has been revised since I first posted it. But, the story is still the same. Second Chances Copyright Hawk Richards Originally posted: 7/97 Reposted: 5/7/98 (~4500 words) "Second Chances" (c) Hawk Richards Violet's cold, blue-gray eyes penetrated the night as she nestled on an isolated beach. After a while, her face lost its pale pallor and she started to release her catatonic stare. Life came back to her eyes, but now there was an intense coldness instead of the warmth that had been once there. Slowly, she stood, running her hands over the material of her blouse, smearing it with blood. Violet took it off -- allowing the night to catch a glimpse of her ivory breasts -- her nipples hardening at the chill of the night air. Allowing the wind to caress her soft skin as she stepped back into the house, she took care not to leave any more evidence behind. She reached into the closet to get a shirt where rows of expensive suits and clothes hung. She put on a silk shirt and buttoned it up. It hung like she was wearing a dress, barely showing her ample breasts because her lover had never been a small man. She took one last look at the him as he lay on the bed. His belly rose above the pool of blood that encircled him, and he looked like a beached whale, swimming in a pool of his own warm blood. She turned in disgust as she fled out the door. She got into her lover's car, started it up and drove towards the airport. As Violet sat in the airport waiting for her flight home, she thought about her situation. She had to get away because she was in a lot of trouble. She had arrived in sunny California, like a lot of others went to LA, to make it as an actress. She spent three years in New York City as an unemployed actress until she met him. He said that he could make her a star. Robert had sent her a ticket after they spent a night together in New York. He made her a star; she became a coke dependent actress of B horror flicks, a literal scream queen. The jaded actress spent what little money she made, until he took her under his wing. He fashioned her into a slave. Slowly she fell into the role, until she believed there was no other way out. After a while, he became dark and cruel, using her like a towel and abusing her. Violet felt she had no other way out because he was too powerful; he was killing her. She sat on the plane with her face towards the window. The rain coated the glass and gave it a murky luster of black night, which meant she had to squint to see anything, but she couldn't see any thing but the night. The man sitting next to her smiled, he was good looking and nice. Violet just nodded hello and looked back out at the night. Her blue eyes reflecting in the mirror. The businessman tried small talk, but she just nodded and kept to herself. He gave up. Violet got off the plane and walked through the terminal and then past the luggage returns. She only carried a small carry on bag; hence, there was no need to stop at the luggage return. She could buy whatever she needed out of the money she had liberated from Robert. He always had cash, plenty of it. She had always assumed it was because of his seedy business. She had found 100,000 dollars in his safe that she knew the combination from watching him. She had taken it before he had found out she planned to leave that night, but he couldn't take her betrayal. He'd gone berserk with rage that took form in a deranged lust. He was always a little perverted - especially with his tendency for bondage, tying her up, and other disgusting acts. He coaxed her into it slowly, starting out gently with fake handcuffs that she could get out of easily. She rather liked the dominant way he treated her at first. She didn't have to think, whereas he did the thinking for her. Then, he gradually had complete control of both her mind and body. However, the human soul is resilient than most people believe, and Violet grew stronger. She had to get away for he was killing her; he was taking her over. She didn't know where he stopped and she started. He was outrageously jealous and refused her to work. Then he refused her to leave the house, except to parade her around at parties. She stepped into a cab. She still had a place to go. Her parents still lived in their small apartment back home where she grew up. She was finally going home. She didn't have the courage to see them right away, so she decided to go to a local all night diner for some coffee. Violet had left her parents on uneasy terms. She wanted to start out fresh. Besides, she could sure use some coffee. *** Sam was a little man with a face scarred with stress. The misty drizzle dodged his umbrella and dribbled down the fissures of worry across his forehead to the ravines of his crow's feet, which circled his pathetic brown eyes. His eyes held misfortune in their brown murky depths. While his hairline rapidly progressed to nothing, a few lone wisps of gray clung to his head in determined anxiety swaying with the air of lone soldiers left after an enemy onslaught. His face was gaunt with sorrow due to loneliness. His nose projected forth arrogantly with self-pity. Sam was by no means an Adonis, yet in his fantasies he was the blond, blue-eyed hero of all. He slouched when he stood up, which made him seem even smaller in comparison to the huge monoliths that graced the city's horizon, hideously blocking out the sun. In his small blue sedan, he was just one of the average. He had thought of buying a sportscar once, but He never did. Nobody noticed Sam because of his ordinary nature. He always carried a suitcase that held his business papers. There was nothing too important for him to carry to and from work, yet it helped him feel more important to carry the ratty old leather suitcase. Every once and a while, he looked up from his daze to watch the crowds filling the street as he strode to his workplace. He watched them carefully with an intense gaze that bore deeply into their souls. He liked watching people, just as he always had in the park, as a child, watching the other kids play instead of joining in their games. However, he spent most of his time day dreaming about what he wasn't. He wasn't the wealthy, established businessman or anything else other than Sam the Accountant. He didn't even like his job. He never liked numbers. He just picked the vocation because it was stable. He boarded the elevator to his floor where his boring and seemingly meaningless job lay waiting. It was all that he had, though. There were no friends, wife or significant other to come home to at night. He cherished his dreams, yet he could not hold onto them. They always slipped away because of the lack of bravery it took to make them reality. And, that always made them bitter reminders of what could have been. He thought silently to himself: "If only I only had the balls to make them real." At work, he spent his day doing tedious busy work; paperwork was his life. Oh, how he hated paperwork. He just shuffled papers until lunch, when he would go down to the corner deli for a sandwich. He wouldn't eat it there. It felt too awkward eating alone. It was as if he felt eating was too private a function to share with strangers. Then, when he finished lunch he would go back to his paperwork. He didn't notice anymore, but he was cut off from the world for he really spoke to no one other than a meek "Hello" or "Good-bye". The most he talked during the day was to the lady at the deli where he ordered his sandwich. She was beautiful with dark brown hair, which came down to her shoulder, caressed her pale smooth skin on her face, when the wind blew. Her eyes were full of life. Her smile invited him to smile back, yet when he did, he thought he looked like a dork. However, he couldn't help it. It was the only thing that got him through the rest of the day. After work, he would always go straight to the parking garage and then home, for the city scarred him at night. He would go back to his humble abode and watch TV or read. He loved to read. Those were the dreams that didn't slip away. They were always there for him. However, that night was different because his boss had given him only one day to fix a botched up account for the next day. By the time he left the building, he was really late. Almost immediately after leaving the parking garage, Sam felt the car, start to sputter. The engine grinded and bucked under his influence. He knew very little about cars; in fact, he knew nothing. He instinctively decided to find a mechanic or a garage. The only problem was he didn't know where to look. He never strayed from his usual routine, which was the interstate on and off ramps. He didn't live in the city and never had wanted to live there. He took a left towards a main street, looking desperately for a gas station. He took another left, which took him into a part of town he had never seen before. It was desolate, dark and just plain scared the crap out of him. He knew his car was going to die and thought angrily, "It would be here of all places! The damn car must have a grudge against me." After hitting the ATM machine for money about an hour or so later, he noticed the diner. He had been walking for an eternity. He needed a telephone and a cup of coffee. He walked up to the diner. It was not the kind of place he was used to going, although he never ate out much anyway. The Florescent lights looked warm. He walked in and had a seat at the counter. He asked for a cup of coffee. "You O.K., honey? You look like Hell," the waitress asked as she stared at Sam. He just smiled and said, "I'm a little beat down by life, but I think I'll survive." The experience had taken a lot out of him, and he didn't have time for worry or anxiety. Besides, he'd never see her again or any of the other patrons. A couple seats down sat Violet as she sipped at her coffee. For some reason unknown to her, she smiled. He smiled. Looking into her eyes, he felt the warmth. She gazed down at her coffee coyly. He smiled even more. She looked up at his small worn body, yet her eyes landed upon his gentle stare. He smiled easily. "Hello?" she cooed without a thought towards her newfound need for companionship. "Hi?" said Sam. "Cold isn't it?" asked Violet. "Yes, too cold!" said Sam. It was funny but it seemed she was talking about something more than the weather. "I've just come from --" she hesitated before she had revealed too much of herself. "From where?" Sam asked gently. "California...." she answered. "Wow, it sure is warm there. Why come here?" he asked "I needed to get back home." she answered. "Don't we all!" he mocked himself. "What do you mean?" she asked. "Well, you see it's like this --" he recounted his situation, and they talked for a couple of hours about life, love and the weather. He never looked at his watch or let go of the warm blue grasp of her loving eyes that seemed so innocent and giving. They gave his heart warmth. It wasn't until he chanced a glance down did the thought of how beautiful she was suddenly hit him. Without thought, he commented. It was nothing crude. He felt like he could open up to her. She responded with a smile. She blushed. It was around 10 o'clock that the late crowd started to arrive. She suddenly realized that she should start getting ready for her reunion with her parents. She mentioned it to Sam. He nodded, and his eyes filled with sadness for he didn't know what to do next. He didn't' know what to say. She let him off the hook by asking for his telephone number. She hugged him good-bye, he felt her soft breasts against his frail frame. Even if she didn't call, he felt like he could die a happy man. After she left, he paid the waitress and got up to leave. He walked over to the phone and called for a taxi. It was going to be a good day. *** Sam slicked his sparse hairs down with some spit, trimmed his nose hairs, shaved his graying stubble, and winked in the bathroom mirror. For a moment, he felt like he could run faster than a speeding bullet, leap the tallest building and get the girl. His silent revelry ended when the situation finally struck him. He wasn't a hero, a Don Juan, or a Casanova. He swiped his clammy hands on his trousers, stepping into the bedroom. The tidy homestead had a hard edge and was completely void of any female touch. He thought he heard the door ring, which sent his fizzled thoughts running because she was over an hour early! Trying to calm himself down, Sam approached the door. Violet scanned the hall and her warm blue eyes penetrated the silence, as she waited for door to open. She thought, "Perhaps, he isn't home yet?" She started to leave when an exasperated looking man opened the door. She could tell he was nervous and a small part of her chuckled inside. Thoughts swarmed her mind: "He looks so cute, unlike all the other men I have met, fallen for and awoken up next to in the morning." Violet caught her thoughts, she knew that she was getting ahead of herself. She had just met this man yesterday. He could still be like the rest of mankind, heartless. A part of her dismissed that he was like all the rest. Pulling himself together for a moment, Sam spoke in a quivering attempt at gallantry: "Why don't you step inside. You're a bit early, any trouble finding the place?" He had rehearsed everything he was going to say all day long, except for the early part and he started to get a bit more confidence. "Nope, all went smoothly." She checked her watch and noticed she was an hour early. It was her idea to drop by for a visit, since she didn't want anybody to know where she was staying. "Good," he said while he took her coat. He stood in the Living Room not sure of what to do next. He noticed her sultry eyes searching the apartment. Her lips curled into a smile as she said, "You have a lovely apartment." "Uh, thank you." He started to mention he had inherited the apartment after his mother had died, but he quickly dismissed the thought. The last thing he needed for his image was to be cast a Mother's boy or at least had been one. In fact, he had lived with his Mother after his Father had left, but most of her things his sister had taken even before the body got cold. There was hardly a trace of his previous life. He liked it that way. Violet felt the silence creep into her mind and felt bad about making the poor man nervous. She could tell he wasn't used to the dating thing. Her curling smile grew as she decided she was going to have some fun tonight. She approached Sam slowly trying to get closer to him. Sam felt the electricity of her aura surrounding her. He felt a wonderful warmth spread through him as she placed her hand on his shoulder. "What's cooking it smells fabulous." She said. "Oh, ...dinner." He had hardly noticed anything but the sweet smell of Violet. All of his senses seemed to be on overdrive. "Whatever you're cooking smells just wonderful. Do you cook a lot, Sam?" She asked. "Well, yes, but mostly for myself." He replied taking a dish out of the oven. "That's a shame." "What is?" "That such wonderful things can't be shared." As he set the steaming dish down onto the countertop, he looked into her eyes. Normally, he would look away, yet there was something compelling him to stare into her sea blue eyes. She started chuckling daintily. Sam awakened from his open staring. He looked away shyly, and Violet touched his hand. "You're not much of a Casanova, huh?" "No..." "I like that." He looked back into her eyes as she stepped forward, embracing him in a soft hug. Sam felt the softness of her body press into his, and he felt a rise in temperature. Not sure where to put his hands, Sam placed them on her firm buttocks. Violet caressed his back enticingly and knew if anything were to happen, she would have to initiate. Even though the food smelled wonderful, Violet was hungry for something else. Once the decision to seduce the kind man was made, she upped the play to a kiss. She thought to herself, "This is getting quite interesting." The kiss lasted for several minutes. Sam was first unsure of himself and how fast he should go; yet, he explored her mouth. Her tongue invited him to dance. Breaking the kiss with a moan of approval, Violet pulled playfully on his lower lip and let it go with a plop. She looked into his eyes and she saw behind the frightened little boy eyes was arousal. Violet felt something pressing against her thigh and knew it was his excitement. Too caught up in the moment of seduction, she planted a kiss on his cheek, nose and mouth. Sam stood in awe as he received a playful feline lick of her tongue on his chin. His hands squeezed her buttocks involuntarily. Their firm weighty flesh parted in his hands as he groped her firmly, which caused a squeal of delight from Violet. "That's a good boy." She said in a sultry whisper. Violet, engrossed by the comparison of his boy like innocence and middle-aged appearance, unbuttoned his shirt slowly as she kissed his neck. Stepping back away from him, she placed his hand on her breast. Sam felt lightheaded when he could feel the stiff nipple underneath the soft sweater material. He cupped his hand, ventured further and softly groped the soft breast. Its squishy firmness was a delight to explore, fascinating him so much that he didn't realize the path of her hand as it dropped lower down his chest to his stomach. An unexpected shiver ran through his body as her hand rubbed across his imprisoned shaft. With eyes of pure lust, she rubbed her hand to his zipper. The low cut sweater invited his hand to travel to the soft flesh of her breastbone. His shaking hand swept gently to her neck, then her face. Instinct overtook his thoughts, he stepped closer feeling his zipper release the pressure on his hardened flesh. Two mouths found each other in a kiss. The passion burned in her blue eyes as she parted her lips to encompass his mouth in lust. Sam, unsure of what was possibly better than kissing the beautiful woman in his arms, moaned in protest at her ceasing the penetrating kiss. He soon realized what had never had happened to him before, except in his dreams, was going to happen. She knelt on her knees and kissed the cloth of his underwear between the open zipper of his trousers. She could smell his scent strongly as she held his thick penis in her hand. The pulsing creature bobbed violently on her lips. She parted her lips and sucked gently at the engorged head of his cock. Violet heard heavy breathing above her and proceeded to tease him. Soft flickering licks of her tongue danced up and down his shaft. She tasted the bitter pre-cum in her mouth as she took all of him into her mouth. Violet knew it wouldn't take much to make him come soon, yet couldn't resist rubbing his balls when his trousers and underwear were pulled down. Again, she took his whole penis into her mouth, the head prodded at her throat and she could feel the tickle of pubic hair against her nose. Choking slightly, causing an excess of saliva to drool down his shaft, she pulled back. Not sure, if his legs would support him much longer, Sam braced himself on the counter. He desperately tried to hold back the surging power of an orgasm. Although no words had been spoken for several minutes, Sam blurted out in a hoarse gasp, "I think...I am going to..." "Come...," she mumbled briefly in between licks. His orgasm shot torrents of pearly white semen into her mouth. She swallowed as much as she could, but several strands of semen clung to her chin. Sam stumbled backwards and tripped over his trousers. He fell to the cold linoleum floor gasping for air. Violet started laughing, once she knew he was all right. He chuckled slightly as his embarrassment dwindled. She crawled over to him and helped him up. She kissed his cheek softly, whispering, "The night has just started." She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand smearing the last of the excess semen off. "What was for dinner by the way?" she asked, when she noticed the dish of delicious smelling food. Dinner went smoothly, which gave him an increase in his self-confidence. The electricity between them seemed natural to them both. Every time he thought of her hint of what was to come later, he started to eat with vigor. She eased information out of him easily with bright blue eyes and a sexy smile. He told her about his late mother and family and she listened with intensity. She kept the conversation about his life. Every time it turned towards her she curiously said, "Well, my life is a mess and not worth mentioning." He just left it at that and didn't push. Somehow, he knew that she would tell him when she it was the right time. Every once in awhile he pinched himself in order to make sure he was not dreaming again. After dinner, she asked, "Excuse me, but I didn't get a tour of your wonderful apartment yet." "Oh...I am sorry." "Well, where is the bedroom?" she teased. "Uh..." He pointed. "Oh, what a beautiful bed." she cooed. "Bathroom?" "Through that door," he gestured as his heart pounded. "Let me clean up a bit," she said still sipping at her wine. Tossing her purse onto the bed, she handed her glass to him, sauntered towards the bathroom, then turned and slightly winked at him. He felt his penis jump in his pants. Unsure if he should get undressed, lay on the bed, or just stand there, he decided to just wait. After a few minutes, he heard the door open and Violet appeared wearing nothing. Sam gulped in air and stared at the gorgeous beauty before him. Her arms crossed in front of her chest, but instead of hiding anything, she looked like a model presenting herself to him. "You simply must remove those clothes, Sam." she whispered. In a flash, he started fumbling with his pants. Soon they fell to the floor and allowed her to see his tented underwear. He looked at her laying on the bed waiting for him and soon found himself naked. His flesh tingled in heat of desire. He walked to the edge of the bed like a schoolboy. She surveyed his middle-aged body with lustful eyes and licked her lips. She thought silently to herself, "He isn't a body builder that's for sure, but he looks so cute." She pulled him onto the bed like a predator. He lay next to her rigid and breathing heavily. Whispering in his ear, she said, "I want this. Do you?" He didn't have to answer. They kissed like two long lost lovers, when she pushed him down onto his back and straddled him. She felt his penis pressing into the crease of her ass. Her essence was strong and made Sam start to shake as he smelled sex in the air. "I want you to do something for me," she said. "Anything --" he replied. "Alright, but I hope you know what you're getting into." "Anything...," he repeated gulping in air. She produced two silk scarves from her purse on the nightstand and clicked them around his wrists. He didn't object as they bit into his flesh as she tied them. "Are you ok?" she asked. "Yes," he moaned. She gyrated her hips so that his penis slipped up and down her mossy ass crack. She arched her hips and reached back to guide him into her. Sam felt the warm silkiness of her cunt around his cock. He became one with her. She rubbed her breasts on his chest as she slowly milked his cock with her warm sheath. She sat upright with his penis fully in her, and reached to her purse, which was close behind her. A glint of metal caught his eye. He saw the knife she held in her hand travel up his stomach. The sharp blade caressed his skin. A look of wonder filled his eyes and he became perhaps a bit frightened. The blade traveled higher to his armpits and then she reached out kissing him. "You're different aren't you?" she asked. "I'll never hurt you," he replied. Her body writhed up and down on his cock. Suddenly, she cut the silk bonds free. Semen burst into her with such a force that she could feel it pulsing into her with each blast. She threw the knife into the corner as an orgasm wracked her body. She lay on top of him and embraced him. Slowly, his penis shrank inside of her as she kissed him softly. "Second Chances" by Hawk Richards. Copyright (c) 1997 __ Hawk Richards HawkRds@aol.com Hawk's Storyboard (Recently updated) http://members.aol.com/HawkRds -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us |