Message-ID: <13184eli$9807192135@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: bitbard@newsguy.com (BitBard) Subject: (fwd) {HAWKEYE} Seasons 6: The Real World (6/7) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: bitbard@newsguy.com 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: <35b78e8f.25569387@smtp.newsguy.com> On Sun, 19 Jul 1998 14:20:38 GMT, in alt.sex.stories doogiewoodburner@my-dejanews.com wrote: Note: I am not the author of this work. He used an anon.penet.fi address, which has since been shut down. I am posting this whole archive by request of an earlier message. Personally, I believe this to be the best series i've ever seen on alt.sex.stories. Please, Enjoy! ------------------------------------------------------------------------- This story is part of a series that I've entitled 'Seasons'. The series as it stands so far: 1. Hazy Shade of Winter 2. Summertime Blues 3. Season of the Witch 4. April Showers 5. The Cruelest Month 6. The Real World 7. A Time to Cast Away Stones Email is always appreciated. In fact, it provides a large part of my incentive to write. :-) Hawkeye _______________________________________________________________________ Do me a favor, and only redistribute this with the following notices attached. Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance between the characters herein, and any real people living or dead, is purely because I draw from many sources, real and imaginary. Chew on that. (c) 1993 Pure Blue Enterprises. All rights reserved. Explicit permission granted for electronic re-distribution, without changes. [v1.0] The Real World (part 6 of 'Seasons') by Hawkeye I wasn't really surprised when Lisa didn't come back to school in the fall. I hardly felt like coming back myself, even though it it was my senior year. College felt like just another meaningless task that needed finishing, and I found it wearying to be surrounded by people when I would rather have just had the company of my memories. I wanted to leave as soon as possible. Despite that, I really tried to get back into the rhythm of school life. I stayed with the movie crew, and after being on it for so long, I was practically the Grand Old Man of it. Having started college a little later than was usual, I was 2 or 3 years older than most of the other people there. It gave me a semi-exalted position among them, but it also made me feel less a part of things. That was fine with me, though. I was already distancing myself from that life, and those times. +++ I lasted out the Fall semester, and squeaked by with decent grades. That was despite a lot of partying and carrying on, which turned me into a real slacker. I dated a couple of girls who looked passably like Lisa, but of course nothing happened. I tried to tell myself that I was just naturally attracted to that look in women, but it was always me that broke it off after a couple of dates, when I found out that they didn't act like her. I nursed a lot of hangovers, too, and I was pretty rude company sometimes. Some of my friends stopped hanging around with me. I went home for Christmas break, and wondered if I would bother to go back. +++ I did go back, and despite my behavior, I even finished the semester. I hadn't put much thought into my "future", though. If you had asked me about it, I would have laughed at you, waved my beer drunkenly in your face, and said, "Here's to the future, and all that it may bring!" And then I would have laughed again, because I was drunk and didn't know what the fuck I was talking about. In May, I got kind of a shock. I had graduated, and they expected me to leave. Well, that sure threw a monkey wrench in my plans. Meaning, I didn't have any plans, and now I was forced to make some. I had to find an apartment in town, and I got myself a job working for one of the engineering companies that flourished around the university. Working wasn't half bad, I decided. Having a real schedule sort of restrained the worst excesses of my recent "lifestyle". Plus I was getting a new start, with people who were more of my current mindset. College life had started to seem utterly alien to me in the last year. I felt like now, maybe I might get somewhere with my life. +++ The company I worked for was tiny, which meant that it was de rigeur for everyone to play on the company softball team. Now, I can't throw underhand worth a damn. I can't usually catch anything except the most outrageously easy pop fly. I'm not built for speed. But sometimes -- when I get my head down, and really use The Force -- sometimes, I can hit a wicked, screaming homer right out of the field. That's what happened one Tuesday night, in the middle of July. I got one of my blind-luck power hits, and won the game for us. Everyone on the team, plus all our cheering section -- friends, wives, kids etc, were there to meet me as I rounded home. I was an instant hero, on a team that hadn't won a game since early last season. We went back to Jerry's house to celebrate. Jerry was the company general manager, and had a big, beautiful 2-story in the suburbs, with a large plot of land and a huge inground swimming pool. He and his wife were an easy going 50-ish couple, who didn't mind having a crowd of young lions roaring in their backyard all night. We were reliving the highlights of the game for the 80th time, and I was thanking my lucky spirits that everyone had completely forgotten about that missed grounder, when all of a sudden I realized that I was being watched. It was a funny, peripheral sort of feeling. I knew that someone was looking at me, although I wasn't sure how I'd noticed it. It wasn't like we'd made direct eye contact or anything. In fact, I didn't even see who it was. So I looked around, real slowly, like I was checking out what a nice backyard Jerry owned. I spotted her then. She was a pleasing, rather than eye-catching, brunette. Medium height, and with a slender but nicely curvacious build. I especially liked her dark eyes, and the jet black curls of her hair, which fell down onto her shoulders. They gave her a kind of exotic look. Anyway, she had on a wide brimmed straw hat, although the sun was down almost on the horizon by then, and she was watching me from just under the edge of it. Feeling cocky in my new position as Softball Super Hero, I smiled broadly at her. She looked down at the lemonade pitcher that she was pouring herself a drink from, clearly implying that it held her interest far more than I did. I wasn't buying it. I broke off from the avid discussion of whether we were now officially a championship contender, and made my way nonchalantly over to the food and drink table. "Is that the lemonade you've got there?" "Yes. Would you like some?" She looked me in the eye this time, as if she was daring me to just go ahead and _try_ a line on her. "So, I don't think you work with us...?" I knew she didn't. There were only about 30 people with the company all told, and I knew them all by face. "No, I'm a friend of Hank's." Hank, Hank... Damn. This was the trouble with being the new guy, I hadn't learned all the names yet. I wondered how old Hank was, and just how friendly their friendship got. My mental groping for facts must have manifested itself on my face, most likely as a look resembling constipation. She said, "I'm Hank's liaison at West Line trucking. He invites me to the games." Now I remembered which face in the crowd was "Hank". Hank was the handsome -- and unattached -- young guy who ran our shipping department. Hank was also gay. "Thanks," I said. She looked puzzled. "For what?" "For throwing me a rope. About Hank. Most people would have just let me drown." I grinned. She laughed then. She had a really nice laugh -- warm, and not at all self conscious. I decided right then and there that she was going to be the next great love of my life. All I needed to do was convince her of it. Of course, first I had to find out her name. +++ Well, it turned out that her name was Jennifer. That was 'Jen' to her friends, which I quickly became one of. Our "romance" was pretty quick to get going -- neither of us was a kid, and we didn't feel like we had to spend forever protesting the purity of our motives. As close as I can recall, the decisive line was, "You know, I'd really like sleep with you." I can't recall which one of us said it. Not long after, she invited me to move into her apartment, and I did. It was a spacious, well kept place in a good part of town, which she was renting for an unbelievably low price. Well, unbelievable until you found out that her father was the landlord. We were pretty happy there. She had her peculiarities, and I had mine, but we found out quickly how to avoid stepping on each other's toes. I wondered if this was how people ended up getting married. +++ Our softball team got eliminated in the first round of the championship series that year, and we threw a big celebration at Jerry's. Not because we lost, but because we had made it that far. We shot off firecrackers, and set up a stereo on his back patio, and danced the night away. About 11 pm, Jen and I were sort of buzzed from the champagne and the good beer Jerry had provided. We were making out on the living room couch while the party continued outside. People going in and out of the house pretended not to notice us as they walked past the arched entrance to the living room. That was good, because I had Jen's blouse unbuttoned almost to the waist. I was frustrated, because I couldn't undo her bra as long as her blouse was still tucked in. And I really, *really* wanted to undo her bra. In fact, it seemed like about the most important thing in the whole world. I was rubbing her breasts with my free hand -- the one that wasn't holding her balanced in my lap -- and feeling her hard nipples through the cloth was making me a little bit frantic. I pinched her nipples, with a tender roughness, and she whimpered and squirmed in my lap. I groaned as her body rubbed up against my already straining cock. She noticed that, and paused in the middle of our kiss. She pulled her mouth from mine, and deliberately wiggled her hips, moving her bottom enticingly against me. I sucked in my breath, hard. My cock was pinned between her body and mine, and it was like being masturbated by her. She laid her lips against mine again, and began to move her bottom deliberately in my lap. The heat of my arousal climbed steadily, as the warm weight of her body moved rhythmically against my groin. Soon I was breathing heavily, sucking desperately on her tongue, and thrusting myself against her. The springs in the couch started to make a rusty "squeak-a squeak-a squeak-a" that I was sure would alert the whole neighborhood. But the loud rock music continued unabated outside, and no one had come into the kitchen for several minutes. I was panting, and my face was running with sweat as I ground my cock against Jen's bottom. I put a hand between her legs, and began to knead her flesh through material of her jeans, seeking to pull her up to the same height of arousal as myself. Jen was gasping between our kisses, and we were almost rocking the old couch off of its legs. I was pushing rapidly towards the hot peak of orgasm, when the back door banged. Jen and I immediately stopped our movements. We stared wide eyed at each other and sat absolutely still, nerves stretched taut and straining to hear. Someone walked into the kitchen, momentarily blotting out the hall light as they passed. I was poised on the desperate brink of orgasm, and felt that if I didn't come, I would just die right there on the couch. I had been holding my breath, and I suddenly needed air. Still staring into Jen's eyes, I breathed in cautiously. She glanced at the empty hallway, smiled, and moved her hips in a little circular movement. I gasped, and came in violent spurts, in my pants. Jen continued to rock her hips against me, as I pumped out my seed in wrenching spasms, the orgasm setting my mind ablaze with a hot white light. Jen kept up the steady kneading action of her hips, as I slowly drifted down from that ecstatic height. I let out a long, slow breath, and laid my head on Jen's shoulder, the sweat from my forehead dampening her blouse. She said, "Hey." I looked up at her, feeling so light headed that I was almost sure I was going to pass out. "Hey," she repeated. She was grinning. "You were supposed to save that for me." It took me a second to get it. Then I threw my head back in a fit of helpless chuckling laughter, totally oblivious to any possibility of embarrassment. Jen started laughing too, her sense of humor piqued by my own abandonment. "Are you two having fun in there?" It was Jerry's wife, Camilla. "Yeah, Cam, we are!" Jen shouted in an almost-steady voice. Then she started laughing again, as she buttoned her blouse. When we stood up to leave, I remembered that I needed to make a stop in the bathroom first. After that, we took our leave from the party. Jerry said, "You kids have a good night, now." I had a feeling we would. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----== Posted via Deja News, The Leader in Internet Discussion ==----- http://www.dejanews.com/rg_mkgrp.xp Create Your Own Free Member Forum ==================================================== http://www.newsguy.com/files/Authors/BitBard/www -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----