Message-ID: <14504eli$9808181806@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: gemboy@hotmail.com (Gem*Boy) Subject: ASHLEY (MF, rom) 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: (A copy of this message has also been posted to the following newsgroups: alt.sex.stories) ASHLEY (MF, rom) by Art Montage ---------------- As Ashley stepped into the room, she could smell the roast. The aroma filled the room and already she felt relaxed. The smell of dinner being cooked for her was appealing and it reminded her of holidays when, as a child; she remembered the house bustling and food being prepared for the family. Grant let his eyes swallow her up. He was a bit nervous, but things were going well. Ashley had to work late and had agreed to let him come into her house to cook dinner. He had gotten off work three hours before and had started preparing dinner shortly after that. The whole experience tweaked his voyeur instincts. Though everything was quite innocent, the fact that he had been in her house when she wasn't there gave him a weird sense f power. It wasn't as though he was seeing -- or even looking for -- things that were private and intimate to Ashley, it was just titillating to be in the home of a woman he adored. Being able to room the house made him feel a bit like a peeper. At first he had consoled himself, telling himself he was just excited about being able to please Ashley by preparing dinner. Of course, it seemed like everything he came across reminded him how sexy Ashley was and how he desired her. First he found a large bottle of virgin olive oil in the cupboard. Though innocent enough, he thought of how he would love to rub the oil on her chest and grind his cock against her breasts as she licked the tip. Of course when he used her bathroom, one of her bras was hanging over the tub. And he could resist but to look in her room, where he saw her camera perched on a tripod next to the bed. For most of the time that he was there, he was in a state of arousal. This was accented by the coffee he had been drinking. 'Wired to the gills' he thought. Ashley had just come from her office. Ashley now saw her clothes as an uniform, but Grant always found glamour in the outfits she needed to wear for the 'dress code.' "Smells good," Ashley said, walking toward Grant. They embraced and kissed. When they parted, she nodded at the bottle of wine on the table and said, "Pour me a glass of that, while I change." Next to the wine, was also the olive oil that Grant had used when he fried some vegetables. "I assume you mean the wine," Grant teased. With a licentious smile Ashley retorted, "For now," and left the room. When she returned she no longer was wearing the formal clothes she had on and the stress of the workday seemed to had been shed as well. Instead, she had on an oversized man's dress shirt. Grant had often thought to ask whose shirt it was originally, but refrained. His curiosity never out-weighted the sheer ardor he felt when she wore it, so he never asked. She wore the shirt around the house, mostly unbuttoned, with her lace bra nearly fully visible. The bottom of the shirt fell to her mid-thigh, right where her garter attached to her nylons. He knew she wore the shirt for comfort and pure adulterated sex-appeal. Completing the ensemble was always a pair of heels. She loved her heels, or was it she knew men loved her in her heels? Either way, she had several pairs and she made the best of them. Often not taking them off until well into an evening of passion. "My my my," he said as she sat at the kitchen table, taking a sip from the glass of wine. "Let me say it again, my my my." Smiling both gazed for a moment. Playfully she stuck her finger the glass he had put some olive oil and used her finger to draw an 'x' on her chest. Salaciously she licked the finger. Grant's mind was in over-drive, had she read his mind. Ashley knew how to play out a situation, just as she knew how well composed picture told a better story than words. Through the rest of the dinner, she let only her image excite Grant. There were no more references to the olive oil, in fact she set the glass of it on the stove when she got the matches to light the candles Grant had on the table. Almost as if they were in an argument, the spoke little during dinner. There were a few compliments from Ashley; a question or two from Grant about her work (which she preferred to not thing about); and a lot of smiles, frozen glances and giggles. After they had eaten, they cleared the table together. They cleaned up the plates for the dishwasher and gently kissed a few times. Kisses that, to the causal observer, gave no hint of the passion ahead. With the dishwasher started, they adjourn to 'Ashley's bedroom.' Whenever Grant said, 'Ashley's bedroom,' it was as if he was refer to a shrine, which in many senses he was. In the bedroom, Grant removed Ashley's shirt and they kissed. A kiss in which they swallowed the desire that flowed between them. Gently pushing Grant back she said, "get undressed....and the nasty blanket is in the closet." The 'nasty blanket' was actually an old blanket that Grant and Ashley had often used for sexual adventure. From sex on the living room floor, to outdoor trysts. Half of the time it was used to protect them from the soil and the other to protect from soiling furniture and carpets. They often joked that if the nasty blanket wanted it could blackmail them for several transgressions that were undoubtedly illegal in a couple states. Naked and erect he spread the blanket over the bed. He laid on the blanket, awaiting the arrival of his princess of kink. When Ashley had returned she no long wore her bra and as Grant marveled at her breasts he nearly did not notice the wine glass of olive oil. She climbed onto the bed, straddling Grant. Without her shirt on, he realized she had not been wearing underwear. Her naked sex rubbed against his cock. Carefully she took the oil and poured it on his chest, around his nipples and down to his navel. With her free hand she kept the oil from running off him, occasionally rubbing it into his chest. When the glass was empty she laid it to the side and pressed her breasts against his chests. Slipping and sliding against each other they kissed and rolled on the blanket, until Grant was on top of Ashley. Grant moved his body forward, until his cock was rubbing against Ashley's belly slithering in the oil. Grant moaned and Ashley purred. Rocking he pelvis Grant's thrusts were inching his cock to Ashley's breasts. This dilly-dallying of excitement was leading Grant to an orgasm, as well as Ashley's lips. He propped himself up as he pumped against her chest. Ashley had wedged her hand between Grant's cock and belly and was pushing his erection against her chest. Every third or fourth stroke he would plunge up to her lips and her tongue would dart out, flicking the head of his penis. Ashley sensed how close he was to coming. "Is my baby gonna cum?" She said in a low seductive tone. "Give me your pearly necklace." Grant pulled his hips back, away from Ashley's mouth, to where his balls were resting against he belly. With her belly, she could feel his balls pump. Like a school girl, she felt herself start to squeal as sperm spurted onto her breasts. As his orgasm pumped onto Ashley's chest, Grant arched his back and kissed her. Balancing with his left hand, he moved his right hand to her chest and mixed his sperm with the olive oil. He kneaded his cum into her breasts and nipples. As he did so, se pushed her hips up against him. With his oily, cum-soaked fingers he reached back to Ashley's clit. He began to finger her to her first of many orgasms. He realized tonight was one of those nights the 'nasty blanket' would learn a few more stories. -- /\ // {{ _ \\ ____/ | \\ {______| || || i will take you |\\_____________ || for a ride ||\\_cannondale__\\ | \\// \\ mailto:gemboy@hotmail.com ||\ (/ // \\ /||\\ __ || \ -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----