Message-ID: <13196eli$9807201340@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: hawkrich@ix.netcom.com (Hawk Richards) Subject: {ASS) New Story: "Crazy Tomas" by Hawk Richards Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: hawkrich@ix.netcom.com 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: <35b2fb0c.1760806@nntp.ix.netcom.com> Disclaimer: Do not read this story unless you are of legal age, like reading erotica, and want to read about two people having sex. As always, this story is copyright to Hawk Richards. You may not redistribute this story without my permission. You definately cannot sell it for money. ************************************************************************* "Crazy Tomas" by Hawk Richards hawkrds@aol.com (c) 7/11/98 A middle-aged man, a bum most likely, sat on a bench, his appearance there seemed unclear. That section of town was always kept pretty clean. The police usually patrolled the upscale neighborhood quite diligently, arresting stray bums or telling them to move on to ‘other’ sections of town, where they were tolerated in a place -- which was, like all other ghettos, an eyesore. The man, disheveled in appearance, wore his shirt open and the bristles of salt and pepper-colored hair on his chest could be seen. He made queer faces as he watched the pedestrians pass before him, gesturing wildly with his hands and muttering nonsense. A perverse energy emanated from him, a crude, confused energy. A woman, shedding tears, ran past with her makeup running down her cheeks. The blackened streams of her sorrow clung to her face, scaring her beauty. Suddenly, the man’s face went blank as if he had figured out a simple answer to a complicated question. The one moment of calm meditation soon was lost as his hands started to shake, and his forehead wrinkled up as his face contorted into an angry scowl. He pondered a flower in the garden beside the bench, then looked up as the woman got farther and farther away. Quickly, his hand snapped out and plucked the flower from the garden. The man stood up, shook off the cold, and started walking after the young woman. A look of determination came over his face, and his pace sped up as he followed the young woman. In her condition, she didn’t seem to notice that she was being followed. When she stopped at the corner, she looked back and their eyes met. He stopped before he reached the corner, staring into her eyes. She turned away, and crossed the street. He quickly followed oblivious to the fact that she seemed nervous, which was evident in the way that she was half-walking and half-running away from him. This seemed to sadden the man, and he stopped his chase. He tucked the flower inside of his jacket pocket, and walked away in the opposite direction. He walked for several minutes, until the buildings started to look familiar. The run down neighborhoods that he was accustomed made him clutch for the flower. "Looking for a date?" asked a voice. He looked up into the cold icy eyes of a streetwalker. She looked tired with dark circles under her eyes. Perhaps, she was on something. He carefully studied her appearance, but couldn't tell for certain if she was a crack whore or just a regular working girl. "Yes," he answered. His head fell down as if he was a schoolboy ashamed of his admission. He reached inside of his jacket, which caused the woman to step back in caution. He handed her the flower, and her voice crackled: "What’s this?" "It’s for you," he said. "Flowers die," she replied. "You have any money?" "Yeah," he mumbled. The woman soon got her business sense back, giving him the rundown of prices. He just nodded as they walked towards her room, which was at a local hotel that rented by the hour. She obviously shared it with other women that worked the same street. A quick exchange of money and she turned toward the small window, making sure the blinds were shut. The room smelled like sex, but the man plunked himself down onto the bed anyway. "What’s your name?" he asked. "You can call me Scarlet. What’s yours, baby?" "Tomas." "Well, Tomas, what do you like?" she asked, slipping out of her skintight dress. Her large breasts seemed to overflow her lacy pink brassiere. The flesh was a natural dark tone of a non-caucasion, which meant she was probably of a mixed race. Tomas reached for her, burying his face in her cleavage. His thick, soft lips kissed the jiggling flesh as he released her breasts from their confinement. His hands grasped the sensitive mounds, and his tongue ran around the silver dollar-sized pinkness that topped them. Soon, her nipples hardened into two pebble-like nubbins that he nibbled, bit and sucked upon. Scarlet mewed in what seemed a genuine response to his actions. Her hand slid down the front of his shirt, through the wiry hairs of his chest, until she pinched his nipples. The whole time she was "oohing" and "ahhing" at his attentions like a real pro. She slid down onto her knees in front of him, and unzipped his pants. His hardness was evident as her fingers trailed over his tented trousers. She reached inside, then pulled out his angry-red cock. It didn’t take her long to start her oral ministrations. Her mouth sank down over his prick, making the whole thing disappear. She didn’t gag once as his pubic hair tickled her nose, even when she touched bottom. Slowly, she bobbed up and down. "Do you like that lover?" she asked, after she had wet his cock several times with her mouth. Spittle hung from her lower lip, and he pulled her face back down to his crotch, grabbing the back of her head, his hands entwined in her long curly, black hair. When it became too much to bear, he gestured for her to get on top of him. Scarlet climbed up onto the bed, and straddled him. Her sex was glistening wet as she splayed her lips with one hand, guiding his cock into her tight entrance. He bucked up into her as she gyrated her hips. His mouth glued itself onto her right breast, sucking on her nipple as if it was his last meal. With a furious pace, she hunched her hips up and down, gyrated her hips in a variety of rhythms, and gasped with pleasure as he grunted obscenely. The look on his face told her that he was ready, so she rode him, until he started spurting deep within her. Her body became rigid and she her body trembled slightly as she came. It didn’t seem to be a mind blowing orgasm for her, but it was something that didn’t happen that often, or at least it seemed because of her surprised expression. "You seemed to enjoy yourself," Tomas whispered. "I always enjoy myself," she said, blatantly trying to cover up what she seemed to think was a weakness. Before leaving, he noticed that she had placed the flower in a glass of water, he smiled, and went on his way into the night. (c) Hawk Richards (hawkrds@aol.com) For more stories by Hawk, check out http://members.aol.com/hawkrds __ Hawk Richards hawkrds@aol.com members.aol.com/hawkrds -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----