Message-ID: <13386eli$9807252007@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: Subject: New: Mark Aster: Nightmare (MF, bond, cons?) 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: <86287435.35ba3348@aol.com> I wrote this a little while back, but (as maybe someone somewhere noticed) I haven't been doing the Online Erotic Author Thing much lately, and hadn't gotten around to posting it. So here it is! Not exactly my usual: no Allens, not first person. Does have the traditional people-fucking theme, though. Feedback welcome as usual! More stories can be found at http://users.aol.com/myfrthal/ .. Mark Nightmare by Mark Aster = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Graphic descriptions of nudity, bondage, sex. Enormous mature adults only. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = She comes in from outside, takes off her coat. Hangs it in the closet. She is wearing a long dark skirt, a ruffled blouse, high boots. But without meeting his eyes, standing there in the living room, she starts taking off her clothes. He licks his lips and looks at her. She is tall, but not as tall as he is. Under the blouse, her bra holds her breasts. They move with her breathing. Picking up her skirt, she bends over and he can see down between them, down into her bra between her breasts. He feels himself coming erect inside his pants. She tosses her skirt over a chair, and her bra, and her panties. She stands there in the living room naked. Her skin is smooth and taut, but he sees goosebumps on her arms. The flesh of her belly, below her breasts, makes a small round hill. The hair between her legs is dark. "You have to promise me," she says, taking the harness from the closet. "What?" he says, swallowing and moving inside his clothes. "Promise me that, between moonrise and dawn, no matter what I say or what I do, or how hard I beg, you won't untie me or loosen the straps." He promises. Her nipples are stiff and she is breathing heavily. She lies down on the couch, and he ties the harness around her. The top goes around her back, over her shoulders, across her breasts, pulling them in against her body, leaving the nipples exposed. Other straps hold her elbows to her sides, her wrists crossed over her stomach. The leather is black and supple. Straps go around her ankles, secure her calves to the couch, pulling her legs up and apart. Her labia are exposed, swollen, rough. "Does it have to be like this?" he asks. "It's just right," she says, straining against her bonds, "just right." He sees her thighs tense and relax. "Don't you like having my pussy open? My cunt gaping? Don't you like my breasts?" "Should I close the window?" he asks. "It wouldn't help," she says, "the moon is rising." He turns off the light. They breathe silently in the dark as the moon rises. The silver glow brightens, and their eyes get used to the dimness. He can hear her breath coming faster, rougher. The couch creaks. "God," she moans, "oh god..." Her chest heaves, and he can see the straps pressing deeply into her flesh. "No," she says, "no it's just too hard, I can't --" and she throws back her head and gasps, "I can't do it. Untie me now and we'll try again later." He chews on his lips and doesn't say anything. "Come on, you bastard," she growls, "untie the fucking straps!" She sees he's not going to, and moans again, louder, and strains against the leather. "Oh, please," she grunts, "oh jesus god..." And for awhile her sounds have no words, just gasps and grunts in the moonlight. He presses his hand down between his legs, adjusts himself in his pants, presses his hand against his hardness. "Alright, then," she sighs, relaxed for the moment, "alright then you can fuck me," and she moves her hips in the small circle that the straps allow her, "you can drop your pants and lie on me and fuck me, I really want you to." And she makes liquid lascivious sounds with her mouth. He sighs. "I can't take advantage --" And she curses him and writhes in her bonds. He thinks he can smell her, smell the hot salty sweat under her arms, the slickness between her thighs. "Dickless, scumwad, fucker, oh god oh please, please if you won't fuck me at least kiss my breasts, suck on -- suck on my nipples, SQUEEZE me" and she is panting and groaning again. He takes a breath and goes over to her, puts his head down to her chest and licks her with his tongue. Her nipples are hard and swollen, and she screams and laughs when he takes one in his mouth and sucks. "YES YES YESS!" she shouts, and his mouth is full of her and he puts his hands around her breasts, over the straps, and licks and kisses and sucks and the leather presses deeper into her flesh and he groans. Then he feels himself straightening up, unbuckling his belt, freeing his cock out into the cool air and then plunging it into the hot center of her and she screams louder and he kisses her mouth hard and pulls out and pushes in and as he fucks her she pushes her tongue into his mouth and grunts like an animal. At first he holds his weight up off of her, but then her cunt squeezing at him sucking at his cock and her tongue in his mouth are too much and he falls onto her, into her, his hips pistoning driving into her deeper and deeper and he comes in a long stream of ecstacy coming lying on her in the straps, biting and sucking on her lips, his cock up inside her well and truly fucked. He feels her skin under him slick with sweat, and his ears are ringing from her screams. She is still writhing, moving under him, cursing at him, "no no oh fuck no not done yet, oh oh OH" so when his penis slides limp out of her he moves down, sucking her nipples again, kissing her bound hands, her belly, burying his nose in the dense dark hair of her mons, and then his face in the wet open darkness of her cunt. He licks her labia, takes each one in his mouth and presses it between his lips, strokes it with his tongue. He opens his mouth wide and engulfs her vulva, runs his tongue up to her clit, brings up his hand and slips two fingers into her. She screams again, laughs, groans, writhes, and as he thrums his tongue over her clit over and over she comes, and her muscles squeeze his fingers, and he tastes her juice and his own cum, and she gunts and shouts and pants, and he falls asleep there, between her legs, his torso on the couch and his knees on the floor, his head cradled between her thigh and her belly. The dawn wakes them up, stiff and sticky. She looks down at him, there between her legs, and she smiles gratefully, waiting for him to untie her. He kisses her lightly, his mouth on hers, and he kisses her again. And they know that he's going to untie her soon, soon, any minute. But first he kisses her again, and she presses her tongue between his lips, and his penis swells between her legs. And he pushes it into her again, and she groans and rocks her hips in their straps. Soon, they are thinking as they fuck in the yellow light, soon he will untie her. Very soon. Nightmare by Mark Aster The End -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----