Message-ID: <14388eli$9808151835@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: Subject: New Story: A Shower for Two(M/F, rom, oral) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d MIME-Version: 1.0 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: A Shower for Two By Jacques du Bois ©1998 SEJDB Inc. The following story contains graphic descriptions of sex between males. The Characters and incidents portrayed and the names used are fictitious and any similarity to the names, characters, or history of any person or persons is entirely accidental and unintentional. If such material offends you, your city or violates any laws, or you are under the age of 18 don't read it! Comments and suggestions are welcome and appreciated! I wrote this story because of reader requests, and I am more than happy to take them. My email is sejdb@altern.org. No spam or flames will be accepted! Jacques du Bois A Shower for Two M/F, rom, oral Hank ran out of his office exactly at 5 o’clock sharp that night, leaped into his waiting red Jaguar convertible, violently turned the car then drove fearlessly into the rush hour traffic. He weaved in-between the cars, in and out nearly causing accidents again and again, navigating the city streets at 40 miles an hour on the way to the freeway. As soon as he hit the freeway, he cut across the first three lanes going over to the fast lane hitting 100 miles an hour in a few seconds. Hank’s long blonde brown hair fluttered in the wind behind him as he drove with one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the car door tapping along with “I Want to Rock & Roll All Night“ by KISS. It only took him 20 minutes to make the usual 45 minute ride, Hank smiled hoping he’d get home before 5:30. Cutting across three lanes of traffic again, he got to his exit pulling off the freeway. The red Jag screeched to a halt as Hank slammed on the brakes, the car seemed to pant because of the sudden stop. The light turned green with Hank pulling away, making a sharp right turn onto the main street in his quiet suburb. Hank paid more attention to the throbbing beat of his stereo, the drums seeming to be like a heart beating at the verge of orgasm, the guitars the moans of the woman and the bass the groans of the man. Hank was so enraptured by the music that he didn’t notice the red light he was quickly approaching along with a Volkswagen Bug that he was about to broadside. The driver frantically honked as Hank ran through the red light hitting the passenger’s side of the little car. The impact brought Hank back to reality, as the airbag hit him in the head he looked at the small digital clock in the dashboard. In greenish black figures, 5:30 mockingly flashed out at him. Hank sighed, hitting his head against the white air bag. “Mister? Are you all right?” Hank looked to the side, seeing a very attractive woman. “Should we call the police?” “No…no time for that! Let’s exchange information...” Hank slowly went to the glove box to pull out his insurance information, his face contorted in a grimace. He took in a long deep breath, looking around at the wonderful spring evening that he was in. “We should move our cars...are you sure you’re OK?” the woman looked Hank over, as she took him in from head to toe, apparently liking what she saw. “Did you see your pants?” “What about my pants?” Hank opened the car door, then looked down at his pants. The area around his crotch was soaking wet with white wine, as its biting odour began to envelop Hank. “It’s not what you think ma’am...” Hank’s face became crimson red, flushed with blood and heat as he handed the insurance papers to the woman. The woman giggled quietly, her green eyes sparkling brightly. “We should move our cars. Meet me over there.” She pointed to a vacant parking lot, that belonged to The Hot Cat Gentleman’s Club, seeming to smile too much. Hank sighed, rolling his eyes, waving at her with his left hand. The woman’s smile immediately disappeared, the hopeful light completely gone from her. Hank drove over to the lot, only then realizing the amount of damage inflicted on his car. The front end was completely destroyed as the woman’s truck ran into it and had totally crushed it. As the car slowly chugged along, there was a terrible grinding noise because the wheel base had fallen into itself. Hank cursed under his breath, as he noticed the time. Exactly 5:30, he was late again. As he parked the car and got out of the car, he began to shake, his face losing its colour and becoming pale white. The woman noticed this as she walked over to Hank, who leaned against the car door, his hands in front of him and his face on his chest as he looked at the cracked asphalt. “Are you OK? Do we need to call the police?” the woman stood behind him, her face wrinkled in worry for this stranger. “We still need to exchange information...” “Miss, I’m not OK...I’m late for dinner at home. And my marriage depended on it.” Hank banged his head against the top of the door, groaning like a starving dog. The woman came up to Hank smiling at him as he patted him on the shoulder. “It’ll be all right, I’ll take you home. We should call a tow truck for your car. What’s your name?” “Henry Walker, but my friends call me Hank.” Hank stood up and turned around to face the woman. First he was struck by her jade green eyes, and her auburn red hair, but mostly by her nearly translucent ivory white skin. She had a curvaceous body in general, large but perfect breasts for her frame, a small stomach, shapely hips and long wonderful legs. She wore a one piece grey business dress that had a v neck and ended a few inches above her knees. Hank noticed the worry and concern in her face, as her face contorted in a frown making her eyes look all the more green, her lips all the more pouty and red, and her breasts all the more large. “Hank, my name is Gillian DuPont. Although I wish that we hadn’t met by accident, I’m glad we met.” She smiled offering her hand to Hank. He took her hand, shaking it weakly, since he was considering the impending end of his marriage. “We should leave your car here, a tow truck can get it. We need to take you to your wife, right?” Gillian began to walk back to her nearly undamaged truck, waving to Hank to come with her. Hank looked at the car, then looked at the small digital clock on the dashboard. It read 5:45, it mocked him as the colon that divided the hours and minutes blinked on and on oblivious to his suffering. “I’ll be just a minute Gillian, I need to lock my car up.” Hank pulled the cover up, raised the windows and locked the doors. Suddenly he heard a low rumble behind him, and as he turned around he noticed Gillian in her gigantic truck. She slowly drove beside Hank, looking down at him from two feet above him smiling as if she were an angel. “It’s nearly 6…don’t you need to get going?” Hank noticed that look in her eyes, a slight spark that became more and more pronounced. It was a hint of compassion or more likely passion. “I’ve called a tow truck, they’ll be here in a moment. I know that we need to get you home to your wife...” Gillian unlocked the door, a welcoming smile on her perfect oval face. “Thanks Gillian, I owe you for this...” Hank ran over to the other side of the gigantic truck. Jumping onto the wheel well, he opened the door and got in. Gillian smiled as he got in, examining Hank as if he were a piece of meat for sale at a supermarket. Hank was a fine piece of meat, except for the unfortunate fact he was married. He must have been at least 6 feet tall, if not 6’2”. Long blondish brown hair fell down to the small of his back in a pony tail held together by a black hair tie, as his baby blue eyes full of worry and fear looked directly at Gillian. In general his body was well toned, but not over burdened with muscles, his pecs bulged out of his white dress shirt, begging Gillian to tear it off. He was perfect, so very perfect, but he was married. Gillian closed her eyes while taking in a deep breath, gripping the wheel tightly making her knuckles turn white from lack of blood. “Where’s home?” “34532 Browning Avenue. Can you get there in a few minutes?” Hank looked at her, wheezing in panic. “I’ll do my best to get there. What’s so important that you get there now?” Gillian turned into traffic, just as the Reliable Tow Truck came to get the crippled Jag and take it home. Hank followed the truck to his beloved car, unable to take his eyes off it. “My wife cooked my favourite dinner....Beef Wellington with peas, and potato. We’ve been having some fights and I thought that we might be able to work things out...” Hank sighed as he sped away from his car, to face a fate worse than death. “I hoped that we could stay together. But I’m always late...I’m always late...” Hank began to shake, as he looked down at his wine stained pants, realizing it looked as if he wet or came on himself. He moaned, shaking his head in anguish. “Hank...I’m sure that you’re wife will understand, you got in a accident, didn’t you? That’s a valid reason for being late...” Gillian stopped at a signal, looked over to Hank, and patted him on the shoulder. “Everything will be all right, don’t you worry.” “Make a left at the next street.” Hank sighed as he neared the finely manicured lawns Browning Avenue. “Then make another left, and my place is the one on the far right...” Speaking in nearly a whisper, Hank put his face in his hands still wheezing. “I want to help you Hank...how can I help you?” Gillian began to drive slowly, lurching along at 5 MPH looking right at Hank. “Is there anything more I can do for you?” Tears stained his face as he took his face out of his hands, turning to look directly at Gillian. “Just get me home. Don’t worry about me, and give me your insurance...” “Let’s not worry about that now, it’ll be more important later.” Gillian stopped her truck in front of the largest mansion in the whole area. The building was an imitation of an 18th century Georgian country house, with a circular drive way in front of the house. A large metal mailbox sat in a base built of brick, saying on the side “The Walkers”. “Nice place. Want to invite me to dinner sometime?” Gillian stopped smiling at Hank. Hank only glared at her, took out his wallet, gave her a card and jumped out of the door as fast as he could go. He landed on the street, slammed the truck door shut, and ran to down the long concrete pathway that lead from the sidewalk to the front door. Gillian sighed, backing up and going back the way she came. Hank was cute, but he was one fucked up guy, she thought. I don’t know why his wife puts up with him, I know I wouldn’t. Gillian laughed, putting the card to her lips thinking of her lover Patrice. Patrice was so wonderful, so lovely, and she couldn’t conceive of a life without her. Gillian put the card down her shirt driving home thinking all the way of Patrice and of her home cooked meal followed by a wild night of sex. Nearly tripping on the steps in front of the front door, Hank ran to the front door to find a yellow piece of paper along the crease between the two doors. He tore it down from there reading, still wheezing as he became dizzy. Henry, You are late! I’ve had more than enough of this shit. It is 5:45 and you stood me up. I’ll be going out with some friends of mine. Your dinner is in the garbage, and I’ll be staying over at Mary’s tonight. You’ll be hearing from my lawyer on Monday. Regards, The soon to be former Mrs. Lydia Walker Hank read the note once, and he read it once more to be sure it said what it did. He feel to his knees, threw the note down, hitting the steps with his fist. Can’t she understand, will she understand? Hank stood up, threw the door open ran into the marble entrance room screaming as loud as he could “Lydia! Where are you?” Nothing, he heard nothing. Hank turned around to slam the door behind him, but as he threw the door closed he lost his balance, falling on the floor in a heap. He began to laugh, after all, wasn’t all this funny? “Isn’t it funny world? My car is totaled, I lose my wife, and I can’t slam a door anymore. I’m dead...I’m just dead...” Hank took in another deep breath, noticing how badly he smelled. He could only think to call it a mixture of sweat, white zin, Drakkar Noir and chocolate. Laughing, he threw all of his clothes off in the entrance hall, throwing them on a bust of Ovid sitting on a Doric column directly to the right of the door. The smell was a little better, but it was still a very bad stench. “What a night you have ahead of you Hank...a shower, dinner alone and a nice cheery chat with Don Steele, about my divorce. I just love this...” Only his shoes and socks remained, sitting down against the cold marble on his ass, he took them off throwing them into the reception hall directly ahead. A moment later, there was a terrible smash then the sound of glass breaking. Hank got up from the floor to go see what broke. Straight ahead was the reception hall, all ceiling to floor mahogany and oak. On a large old oak table sat pictures of both his family and Lydia, except for in the middle where their wedding picture had been. It was now on the floor, having fallen on the one spot under the table where the ancient Persian rug didn’t cover, covering the picture in broken glass. Hank laughed again, thinking of what that really meant. Shrugging it off, he walked to the left, the way to the bathroom. The bathroom door was shut, but there was steam coming from the room and the water seemed to be on in the shower. Hank groaned, why was Jack here taking a shower now? He opened the door and gasped in surprise. “Hank!” Lydia was in the shower, with the door wide open shocked to see him. “Lydia! I thought that you’d gone!” Hank got shut the door closed, walking over to the shower and climbing into it. “I couldn’t...I had a phone call from some woman named Gillian, she said that you’d been in an accident.” Lydia smiled at Hank, wrapping her wet naked arms around him. They embraced and kissed, the hot water coming down on the both of them. Lydia pulled back, smiling at Hank “I had you going there, although your dinner is in the trash....” “Lydia, you did. I’m sorry that I didn’t get home in time for dinner. I was on time before the accident.” Hank put his head on Lydia’s chest, kissing her heart. “What can I do to make it up for you?” Lydia thought for a moment, smiling playfully at Hank. Hank smiled back, looking at his love, his woman his mistress, and he knew what she wanted. Hank got on the porcelain floor of the tub, bowing before his woman. She had flawless, long blonde hair, steel blue eyes, absolutely perfect proportions, large beautiful breasts, curvy hips and beautiful legs. Her face was round, finely chiseled with beautiful soft lips, fine ears a small delicate nose and a rosy complexion. Hank fell to her small, absolutely delicate and perfect feet, kissing them and kowtowing to her. “Hank, you know what you have to do to make this up to me. Don’t you?” She patted him on the shoulder, her touch sending shivers through the both of them as the water hit them. Hank began to lick Lydia’s feet, the sensations of his tongue and the water falling down all over her body made her moan in delight. Slowly, Hank sucked on each toe on both feet, his hands moving from the floor to her ankles then moving up her thighs to her butt. As his hands moved slowly up, Hank licked up one of her smooth, hairless legs, as his hands began to move to her clit, now exploding in anticipation. Hank worked his way up her right leg, finally reaching her thighs making Lydia melt in more ways than one. He had been licking up the front of her legs, but he began to lick the inner thigh with an instant change in Lydia. It became more and more difficult for her to breathe, as she began to pant, flexing all her muscles to heighten the effect. Hank finally reached the end of the thigh and the beginning of the pelvis gently licking there slowly and teasingly. His hands began to move again from their place on her butt, to the front seeming attracted to her hardening breasts. Gently, he began to kneed the bottom of her breasts as Lydia moaned. Finally, what seemed to be after hours of inattention, Hank began to lick Lydia’s exploding pubis. First, he began to lick at her clit as his hands moved to her nipples. Slowly, as the water fell down upon his head he sucked slowly at her clit, taking it all in his mouth. Lydia backed up against the wall and she put her ! -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----