Message-ID: <14670eli$9808222300@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: john_dark@anon.nymserver.com Subject: {JB}JDR"Lunch Date"( MF rom )[1/1] Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Note: This message was posted by a secure email service. Please report MISUSE OR ABUSE of this automated secure email service to . Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <6rlo8h$d5a$1@sparky.wolfe.net> JOHN DARK REPOST The following story is posted for the entertainment of adults. If you are below the age of eighteen or are otherwise forbidden to read electronic erotic fiction in your locality, please delete this message now. The story codes in the subject line are intended to inform readers of possible areas that some might find distasteful, but neither the poster nor the author make any guarantee. You should be aware that the story might raise other matters that you find distasteful. You read at your own risk. The enjoyment of these reposts can be increased by reading the "Coming Attractions," which includes the titles to be reposted in the next week. These stories have not been written by the person posting them. Many of those e-mail addresses below the author's byline still work. If you liked the story, either drop the author a line at that e-mail address or post a comment to alt.sex.stories.d. Please don't post it to alt.sex.stories itself. Posting the comment with a Cc: to the author would be the best way to encourage them to continue entertaining you. The copyright of this story belongs to the author, and the fact of this posting should not be construed as limiting or releasing these rights in any way. In most cases, the author will have further notices of copyright below. If you keep the story, *PLEASE* keep the copyright disclaimer as well. ===================== 1) This work is copyright by the author. You may download and keep one copy for your personal use as long as the author's byline and e-mail address and this paragraph remain on the copy. Any posting on a website or to a newsgroup requires the previous permission of the author. ===================== Lunch Date by JB jms5b@virginia.edu She stood before the mirror, anxious, wondering if she should go through with what she had planned so impulsively. It had come up a couple of weeks ago in one of their mild discussions after sex. You know the kind: "What would you like me to do differently?" "You do everything just fine." "No, really." "Really, everything's great." "But isn't there *anything* you'd like to try?" And on, and on, sometimes coming out with fantasies and sometimes not. He'd finally owned up to it: casually, no pressure, he said he'd always wanted to see her pussy shaved. Her immediate reaction was to shake her head. She seldom wore makeup and never high heels: wasn't natural the best way to go? He agreed, of course, but she kept thinking about it long after he had forgotten he ever mentioned it. Now she stood, his electric beard clipper in her hand, looking at herself in the mirror and wondering if she should go ahead. She examined her body critically. Long, strong legs, her best feature in her opinion. Breasts good, that mole on her shoulder, an appendectomy scar... pretty normal. Maybe a surprise would do him good. A smile touched her lips. Maybe it would do them both good. She flipped on the clippers, hesitated one moment more, then began. A few careful minutes later, curly hair was on the floor and nothing was left between her legs but stubble. She was surprised to find her heart beating faster and her breath coming quickly as she turned on the shower to complete the job; despite the vibrating motion of the clippers, she had had to be so careful not to nick herself anywhere... important, that she had not thought that she was aroused. But now, as she spread shaving cream over her pussy for the first time, she wondered. Carefully she drew the razor over the remaining stubble, wondering if she was supposed to go against the grain of the soft hair or with it. Razor rash was the last thing she wanted, she thought, and giggled out loud. Bit by bit, with the warm water beating down on her, she began to be aware that she *was* aroused. Part of her rapid heartbeat was from nervousness -- would he like it? would she? -- but part was from the beginnings of horniness. Again and again she caressed herself, seeking out the little niches of stubble left on her mound. It was so smooth, so slick! She let her fingers slip between her labia, rubbing lazily past her clit -- oops, there's another patch, she thought, and drew the razor past again. There was menthol or something in the shaving cream, and it was producing a not unpleasant heat on her tender, naked skin. She rubbed her whole hand over the area and shivered. There, she was done. She turned towards the water to wash off the shaving cream, and felt each part of the spray separately on her newly exposed skin. She rinsed herself off, and suddenly realized that the slippery feeling on her skin was not from the shaving cream after all -- that had all washed away -- but from her own juices. She was as wet as if she had just had a mind-shattering orgasm. She turned off the water, and as she carefully dried herself off, she felt the slipperiness of her pussy again. Stll naked, she walked back out to the mirror and examined the results. A moment's panic washed through her mind -- had he wanted her to do this because he wanted her to look like a little girl? But her mind was instantly reassured as she looked at her body. This was a woman's body, nothing like a ten-year-old prepubescent body. Her flaring hips, her full breasts, all served to accent the pink, inviting mound of her pussy, and when she reached up to touch one of her nipples, she was not surprised to find it hard and aching. She could just see the tip of her hard clit from between the folds of her pussy, and as she brushed her hand over the smooth surface of it, she moaned. She couldn't help it. She dressed quickly -- her husband was coming home for lunch and she wanted to surprise him completely. She slipped on a blouse that was a little sheer, under which she normally would wear her prettiest camisole, and a long black skirt with nothing on at all. Another glance in the mirror showed her nipples, still hard, through the front of her blouse, but no other hints. At that moment, he came through the door, smiling cheerfully. "Hey, baby, what's for lunch?" "I ordered out," she answered equally cheerfully, thinking to herself, If you only knew what was for your lunch... She came down the stairs. His mouth dropped open as he saw the sheerness of her blouse. "Oh...my...God," he said, in rapt parody of a Valley Girl. "What is all this? And what do you have on under that skirt?" "A big strong man like yourself should be able to find that out without my help," she said primly, and he came over and put his arms around her and kissed her firmly. "You smell really good," he said, when they had both caught their breaths, but he said it vaguely, his hand cupping her breast, his thumb rubbing over the nipple in the way he had that could nearly make her come all by itself. In her already-aroused state, it felt like there was a direct connection between her nipple and her clit, and as he rubbed that hard nipple, her clit ached to be touched as well. She pressed more firmly against him, feeling how hard he was against her, enjoying his indrawn breath as she rolled her hips to massage his cock inside his jeans. "Mmmmm," he said, even less coherently. But she had plans. She didn't want to miss one moment of her big surprise. She led him over to the couch and sat him down. He reached for her, and she lifted her skirt just far enough to straddle him. He began to unbutton her blouse, but she took one of his busy hands in her own and gently led it under the skirt. His eyes widened, and against her thigh she felt his cock leap in his pants as he felt her nakedness. "Oh my God," he said. "You didn't... you did?" She nodded, nervous now, but suddenly his whole hand was cupping her pussy (her thighs were wet from her own dripping juice) and the heel of his hand was against her clit, and he was carrying her and she was riding him and when she came she cried out so loudly she thought someone might call the police. She told him so, grinning, and he nodded, not even hearing her. "You are so damn sexy, oh my God," he said, and lifted her skirt and moved her aside onto the couch. He knelt between her legs and spent a moment gazing at her pussy, swollen and soft and naked. Then, as she knew he would, he descended on her with his mouth, licking each part of her, caressing her with his tongue, making wide sweeps from her vagina around her clit and back again. It wasn't long before she was ready to come again, trembling and breathing in gasps, but he stopped. Removing his pants, he looked at her again, and as he entered her, so smooth, so easy, so good, he said, seriously, fighting for control, "You are beautiful." Sex had always been good with him, even from the first time when they had both been scared out of their minds, but his time it was phenomenal, it was gorgeous, she cried out again as she came, harder than the first time, bucking against him and feeling her pussy tighten around him in the waves and ripples she knew he loved. Then he cried out as well, and she held him to her as she felt the spasms of his aching cock as he came in what felt like pints inside of her. They stayed like that for a moment, panting, holding each other on the couch, smelling the good smell they made together. He kissed her, long and tenderly, and smiled that smile that had turned on a small glowing sun in her gut from the first time she had ever seen him, a smile to make any girl's thighs loosen a little. When the guy from the Chinese takeout rang, they ignored him. ===================== Lunch Date by JB -30- -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----