Message-ID: <11448eli$9805201517@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: "E.Z. Riter" Subject: {EZ}MyInhert19 Mouse Play (MC M+F+) 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: <19980520035527.8842.qmail@hotmail.com> The attached work of fiction is intended to be entertainment for adults in locations in which it is legal. If it is illegal in your location, DO NOT read. This is a copyrighted work. Reposting or any other use strictly prohibited without the express, written permission of the copyright holder, except may by posted as part of a review or posted to free-access, noncommercial archive sights. Copyright 1998 by E. Z. Riter. Email address: ezriter@hotmail.com This is a mind control, multi person romance with a planned thirty plus chapters. Please! Give me your comments. MY INHERITANCE Chapter 19 Mouse Play After leaving Mary and Andy in Denver shopping, I headed for Vail. I drove the new Suburban into my driveway about two in the afternoon on December 23. For the first time in six months, I did not have one of my wonderful kittens with me. Suddenly, my tiredness and that well fucked feeling left me. Horny as a billy goat, I headed out into the bright, sunshiny day. I guess the old saying is right. When the kittens are away, the mouse will play. Christmas week in Vail is wild. Every bed in the area is sold, primarily to families there for the holidays. I walked through the town, talking to people, the spirit of the holidays growing in me with each step. I stopped at a restaurant for a cup of hot cocoa to go. When the cocoa was gone, I went to my favorite bar which is a hang out for the Vail singles, those young people who work in the town to care for the tourists. I pushed my way into it. Molly was behind the bar. She was a "lifer" as the full time, permanent, residents of Vail call themselves. "Hi, Davy. What can I get you?" she asked, shoving the peanuts in front of me. Molly is about six feet tall and weights probably one sixty. She is all muscle because every available moment she spends skiing, hiking or in the gym. Still. "Give me a Coors, Molly. Say, do you prefer sirloin or tube steak?" "Davy, that is a lousy pick up line. Why don't you just ask me if I want to fuck?" "Well, Molly, do you . . . " "No!" She sat the beer in front of me and went to the other end of the bar. Shot down with ease. I let my eyes pan the room as I sipped. For some reason, I looked at the woman sitting next to me after I looked at the whole room. About thirty, she had a wry expression on a very pretty face framed by brown hair. Her best feature was big chocolate eyes. "Was that a pick up line?" she asked. "Yes. Really worked, didn't it?" "The bartender is right. It is a lousy line. You should try something else." "Like what? I mean, a guy can always use help with these things." "It depends on the woman." "What works on you?" "The direct approach. Something like 'come back to my place for a while'." "Want to come back to my place for a while?" "No, thanks. I am waiting for my husband." "Nuts." She tried not to giggle at my disappointment. I took another gulp of beer, dropped some money on the bar and left. As I walked out the door, I felt a hand on my arm. "You give up too easily. You will never get laid that way," big chocolate eyes said to me. She walked about ten paces behind me because she did not want anyone to see us together. I went into my house, leaving the door open behind me. In a moment, she was inside. She stood against the front door, unzipped her parka and let it drop to the floor. She was wearing a tight wool sweater which revealed a nice torso. I kissed her hard, pressing her against the door. She had nice lips and responded enthusiastically. "Now, do me! No foreplay. Come on," she snapped, her hands busily trying to undress me. I aim to please. In a flash, we were naked. She pulled me to the floor on top of her, the piled clothes our bed. Her ankles locked at the base of my spine as I rammed into her, finding her sloshing wet and hot as a pistol. I almost told her to be quiet, but there was no need for that. She was silent except for the rhythmic breathing, like a steam locomotive, uh, uh, uh, uh, matching the rhythm of my thrusts. She was slick with sweat, her hair plastered against her, arms locked around my shoulders, when I felt her breathing change and her legs tighten around me. "Yes," she whispered. It was the loudest sound she made, but then sound volume and sexually intensity never went hand in hand. I restrained myself, not wishing to cum right then. She commented about my dry ejaculation but let it drop as I carried her into the bedroom. I expected her to resist when I placed her face down on the stack of pillows, her ass up in the air. She heard the metal rip as I opened the condom. When I slipped between her legs, she held her ass open for me. I could tell when I entered her dark passage, I was not the first to reside there. Her ass was delightful as her pussy had been. She again willingly acceded when I took her mouth. When she went into the bathroom, I saw her look at the pictures of Mary, Andy and Lisa on my dresser top, then look at me. But, she did not comment. She took a quick shower. As she was dressing, I asked, "Are you from Dallas?" "Yes. How did you know?" "Do you have two kids?" She blanched, frightened for the first time. "Do I know you?" she asked. "No. Two kids?" "Yes. How did you know?" "Lucky guess." No need to tell her what Uncle Bert had said. But, he had been right. Find a married woman from Dallas with two kids. They are the best fucks. She certainly was that. After she left, I cleaned up, showered, dressed and headed back into the crisp Vail air. I trolled at the bars for about an hour. Why I picked the one I did when so many others were available, I will never know. Her name was Barbara she said, although I would guess that was a pseudonym. We hurried towards my place with less conversation than was necessary to be polite. She walked stiffly into the bedroom, face set as if going to her execution. She stood looking at the big bed for a moment. "May I use the bathroom?" "Certainly." She stopped at the dresser, eyeing the pictures of my three ladies. "Who are they?" "My girlfriends. They live with me except they are out of town tonight." She gave me a look which would melt lead. "Men," she muttered under her breath. The bathroom door slammed behind her. She was about five three, a little plump with soft, white thighs which looked and felt like they had never seen the sun or a stair master. She did not want foreplay or conversation. As she so quaintly said, "Just shut up and fuck me!" Her pussy was dry but a lubricated condom over my rigidity slipped into her easily. There was a harsh hurriedness about the fuck, a need driven by something else other than sex. She put her heels on the bed, thrusting up to meet me, with a passionless intensity. There was no sweat, no lubrication. I doubt if she was even aroused. I do not think she came. I know I did not, but I was programmed that way. Finally, I just stopped. When I rolled over, she began dressing. I did not stop her. I really was not interested in pursuing any more with her. "Want to tell me what is going on," I said. "None of your business," she snapped. I knew something was wrong but I could not pry it out of her. It occurred to me then, Uncle Bert's potion could wipe put problems as easily as it could wipe out inhibitions. I watched as she finished dressing with her back to me. When I walked her to the door, she said nothing and did not look at me. "Goodbye, Barbara," I said as I opened it. "Goodbye, Sam," she replied. She got the name right. It was the one I had given her. I was bummed out by Barbara. I cleaned up again, showered again and headed out. I ate at my favorite restaurant, consuming some fine red wine in the process. I started walking the streets to pick up my spirits and digest my food. In about thirty minutes, I heard a voice. "Davy. What are you doing?" "Just walking, Tink." "Where are Mary and Andy?" "Denver. Want to join me?" She was beside me now. I did not know her real name. We all called her Tink, as in Tinker Bell. She was less than five feet tall and probably weighed less than ninety pounds. She had very short blonde hair and a funny upturned nose over a huge mouth. Not beautiful or even pretty, she was cute. She was also all muscle and a marvelous, fast, downhill skier who was a joy to watch. I took a chance. "Tink, do you prefer sirloin or tube steak?" She looked up and grinned, the moonlight bouncing off her white teeth almost blinding me. "That is a lousy pick up line, Davy. If you mean do I want dinner, the answer is no. Do you mean to I want to get laid, the answer is yes." Fucking Tink was like fucking a Tasmanian devil. You know, the cartoon kind. Wild action, grunting noises and a lot of panting at the end. That women was a wonderful athlete, but she was so muscular her looks were less than ideal, with breasts nothing more than bumps with nipples. In bed though, she was sweating and squealing with a pussy so tight it was like fucking a keyhole. She snuggled up against me after the second time, as we fell asleep together. I felt the bed move, but I had not heard them come in. "Honey, I'm home," Andy whispered in my ear. She pressed her front to my back, spooning me, her breasts hot diamonds. I felt Mary stroke my arm from across Tink. I closed my eyes and went back to sleep. To be continued . . . Please! Give me your comments. Email address: ezriter@hotmail.com -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----