Message-ID: <16086eli$9810050529@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: Andrew Roller Subject: FUCK DECENCY 405 Passions Playpen NND g2 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: roller666@earthlink.net 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: <3617B363.23F@earthlink.net> --------------------------------------------------------------- PROBLEMS? Please try viewing this with Netscape Navigator. --------------------------------------------------------------- Andrew Roller Presents FUCK DECENCY NAKED girls and more at: http://www.AlessandraSmile.com Issue No. 405 Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in Passion’s Playpen Chapter Eight The hostess came around to where John and Melinda and Kate were standing, talking with Rex and the young man whom Kate admired for having such fiery eyes. He introduced himself to her as Ken. Kate liked the fact that both her name and his began with the same letter. He seemed to want to stare at her bare pussy but he kept his eyes aloft, at the level of her eyes, though sometimes he did allow them to fall to the level of her breasts. Kate’s corset, which everyone now knew she wore, pushed her bosoms up high. Her nipples presented themselves to him through the thin fabric of her blouse. It was a blouse that a little girl might wear, frilled at the edges, with short sleeves that were too short, hugging her upper arms where they joined to her shoulders. It dipped in front, but modestly had a slim-ribboned bow tied between her uplifted breasts. Ken, clearly a little nervous at touching her in the presence of her master, as he talked to Rex, reached out and yanked on Kate’s blouse-bow and undid it. “Hey, those breasts are mine to torture,” John said to Ken. “Torture? I should want to defend them then,” Ken replied. His resolve to have her seemed to stiffen in the face of another male’s open resistance. The hostess, perhaps sensing the start of a dispute between two of her males, appeared before John with her wine bottle in hand. “It’s been awhile since I’ve been marked,” she said to John softly, meeting his darkening eyes with her own deep blue pair. To Kate they looked like pools in which anyone might be lost, male or female, and she felt again her desire to know this woman as she had not known any other. Perhaps it was simply the wine, for when the hostess had refilled John’s glass she turned to Kate, nudging Ken back, and told Kate to drink what was in her glass so she could add this new, different brand. Kate sipped her glass as quickly as she could. Ken’s eyes flashed at John and John’s flashed back. Sensing a battle still brewing, the hostess reached out and touched Kate’s pubic hair with her fingers. Kate started. Wine spilled down her chin and fell in drops onto her blouse. The hostess ran her fingers freely through Kate’s bush and then tugged on its springy hairs, invitingly, as if to ask Kate to follow her to bed. No one else saw, except John who was standing right next to her. Ken had turned away. The young male defeated by the older, vowing revenge. As Kate withstood the hostess’s exploration of her private hair, she passed her hand across to John to steady herself. As it happened her hand fell upon his crotch. And no wonder, it was sticking out quite markedly, offering an easy handhold for searching female fingers. Kate gripped it, only to keep her balance as the hostess’s fingertips explored her. But in gripping it she felt it rise, bulge more. John’s cock stiffened and she wondered absently if he was issuing pre-cum into his underpants. She felt her own dew moisten her cuntlips. The hostess wet her fingertips on Kate’s sex and then, after bathing in Kate’s excitement for a moment, withdrew. The hostess put her fingertips to Kate’s lips. “You are wet,” the hostess said to Kate. She made Kate taste herself and passed her fingers around Kate’s lips, glossing them with the dew from her cunt, a kind of natural lipstick. Jealously Kate watched as Ken was engaged by another female. She had a very short miniskirt and long black boots on. Her top was a midriff that showed her belly. She had seductively innocent pigtails, created by bows tied into her hair. Openly she offered her hand to Ken’s crotch. He let her massage his thing. The crowd was growing more physical in its admiration of one another. Hands that had heretofore remained quiet now whispered over breasts and delved between legs. The men became visibly uncomfortable in their pants as their cocks grew huge and had noplace to go. The females all sprouted nipples, those with thin blouses, while Kate guessed the others were just as excited but restrained by their bras. Men and women who had not known each other’s names an hour before now kissed, openly, in front of their wives or girlfriends or husbands. Kate watched as Ken’s fly was unzipped and the woman in the black boots drew him out to his full length. Nobody seemed to mind that his penis was on display. A jewel of precum at the tip of his rod, where he might have peed if he wished, issued forth. It grew heavy on the tip of his cockhead and drooled in a long drop to the floor. The woman in the boots smiled at Ken. She rubbed his shaft and invited him to cum in her hand if he wished. ‘You are young,’ her eyes seemed to say. ‘You have plenty and I know you can go all night. Don’t torment yourself with your abundance. Spurt it out if you wish to.’ Though she was no older than Ken the young woman in the boots seemed to have a taste for decadence far beyond what Ken was used to. His eyes expressed shock that she would take him this far this quickly, right in front of everyone, with the others still petting and kissing. The girl in the boots simply smiled reassuringly. Helpfully she cupped her other hand under his cockhead, while still rubbing his shaft. Ken tried to step back. He didn’t want to lose himself so quickly. “No!” the girl in the long black boots said sharply to him, as if he were a randy dog. Except she wanted his sperm. She did not have a desire to push him away, as a female might, finding a dog rubbing up against her leg. Instead, she wanted to see him satisfied. She clung to the root of his penis with her fingers, while still offering a cupping place for him to spurt with her other hand. Kate, still having her lips lightly rubbed by the hostess, one hand rubbing her mouth while the other sought between her legs, watched Ken and prayed he held on to himself. As she prayed she felt her own legs offer a new sprinkling of dew. And Ken, not knowing of her own offering, suddenly jetted his sperm into the hand of the girl wearing the boots. She frisked his stiff rod and accepted his liquid manhood into her palm. Ken looked down at himself. He was clearly embarrassed by his eruption but there was nothing he could do now. All was lost, or gained, for his face puffed with pleasure as he spurted himself into the girl’s hand. She rubbed him until he had no more to give. Then, as if to tease him, she lifted her cupped palm to her mouth and quietly licked at his profusion. Ken watched as she fed upon his seed. It made her mouth gooey and sticky. Her tongue became coated with what had been, just moments before, in his balls. Kate arched her hips forward. She offered her slit to the hostess’s questing hands, so inspired was she by Ken’s offering. She opened her mouth and sucked in one of the hostess’ fingers. “Mmmm, yes little sweet, are you excited?” the hostess asked Kate. She still didn’t know the woman’s name, yet she now had one of the woman’s fingers in both her pairs of lips. Kate tried to fuck herself on the inquiring finger at her dell. The hostess drew it back a little, teasingly, not letting Kate have it. She lifted her hand and pried Kate’s lips apart and withdrew her finger from Kate’s mouth. “I want marks like you have,” the hostess said to Kate. “Come.” She drew Kate along, crossing the room, with her bottom bulbing out of her tight-fitting dress. Wherever Kate went, John was sure to follow. He watched with admiration as the hostess led him and his slave. He had a choice of bottoms, one marked, one unmarked, and his penis stood up in his pants as best it could, snarled in his underpants but nonetheless presenting a clear picture of his manliness. There was a curtain and the hostess drew it open. Kate had thought it to be a curtain hiding a window. But instead it proved to be a small alcove, built into the wall, perhaps for the purpose of housing a television. There was no television there, however, but instead, on empty shelves where a T.V. and VCR and discplayer might have stood, there was an array of sex toys. Kate gasped as she saw fake penises displayed on a shelf. They were various sizes and they looked to her like missiles waiting to be put into silos. There was a pile of condoms, all unwrapped and waiting like coins. Some were red and some blue and some clear. Beside the pile of condoms was an assortment of bottles. One said ‘KY’ and another, ‘vaseline,’ and others had brand names on them. But all served one purpose: to lubricate inaccessible places so they could be more easily entered. “Help yourself, everybody,” the hostess invited. Several riding crops waited and the hostess selected one, a particularly thin one which Kate knew would leave sharp marks. She pressed it into Kate’s hand and looked at John. “I want her to beat me,” she said to John. “Right on my bottom. And I want you to watch, and play with yourself while she does it.” “You don’t want me to flog you?” John asked. “no,” the hostess replied, her voice so soft it was barely audible. She gulped. Then she continued, “You would be too gentle. She is inexperienced and she will make it hurt more.” “But your bottom is...” John said, passing his hand behind her and feeling what she was offering him. “No prettier than hers, and look how you marked her,” the hostess replied to John. “Yes, but she is new and must be trained,” John answered. “I was simply training her, so she can know what a man might do to her if she surrenders herself to someone who is truly a fiend for it, you know, someone she meets dancing by herself in a club. And I didn’t do her, Melinda did, and women are always harder on each other than even the worst of us men. Still, it wasn’t too bad, hmmm?” he glanced quickly at Kate. She lowered her eyes submissively, liking the attention her bottom was getting. It was the subject of conversation at an elegant party and she knew people could overhear his question to her as the guests crowded around to help themselves to the sex toys. “It hurt,” Kate pouted. “It still hurts... a little,” Kate continued. “Especially if I sit down.” She felt marvelously spoiled and her pussy was wet and she licked her lips and tasted herself. Bondage was strange, she thought. It made you feel yourself in new ways, especially in your private parts. She’d lain with boys before, but she’d never felt so aware of her bottom, her breasts. She longed to have teeth applied to her nipples and to be made to scream. She wanted to feel her belly invaded and she felt a need to have something inserted into her ass. Anything, it didn’t matter. She wanted to give herself up, to be taken and pried open and filled. She would be a receptacle, like the hand of the girl with the boots, except she would keep what was put into her, forced into her, and she would incubate it. NAKED AT THE NEWSSTAND by holy joe Club, December 1998, $5.99. Club Magazine, P.O. Box 133, Mount Morris, IL 61054. Review: My respect for this magazine continues to grow. At one time I regarded the Club family of magazines (Club, Club Confidential, and Club International) as little more than trash. The magazines showed men with their dicks hanging out and women, not always attractive, having sex. Then I noticed that I was liking Club Confidential, and usually buying it. After that I noticed I was starting to buy Club International too. Club itself remained boring, until recently, when it too started to improve. This issue of Club is the best yet. It has many great pictorials. First, little Nikki, who is a blonde, shows off her bare bottom and sucks her thumb. Then little Nicole, who is a brunette, sits on the potty, plays with yogurt, and pokes herself with a banana. In addition, there is a breathtaking pictorial titled, “my girlfriend wants to fuck you...” It features a blonde, lying on her belly, on a bed, masturbating herself as a brunette lies atop her. Behind them both is a man, who has his choice of snatch! Someone reading this review might say, “What a bunch of smut!” But, having looked at quite a few men’s magazines in my life, I can tell you that most are not this creative. They just basically show some girl, posing naked. It takes quite a lot of thought and good camera-work to make pictorials like the ones in this issue of Club! And there are still more pictorials, besides the ones I’ve listed. Janine squirts herself with a sperm-filled ketchup bottle. Two blondes undress each other and play on a bed, both wearing frilly white socks. There is a report on anal sex, in which a woman writes: “One minute she was down between my legs licking my clit and pussy, the next she was licking his cock as it pistoned in and out of my ass and told me what a nasty little slut I was. She never strayed too far from my asshole for too long, though; that girl just loves to see me get my butthole plugged! I love seeing her take it, too, and you can bet that she took it and then some that night.” (The page numbers are few and far between in Club, in case you’re wondering why I’m not listing them!) Although Club, Club Confidential, and Club International are distributed at all the newsstands, you rarely see them anymore. They sell out very quickly. You will need to subscribe to these magazines if you want to be sure to get all, or even some, of these issues. Playboy still tries to be a “literary” magazine. Penthouse is rather like a tabloid with too many photos. Hustler has interesting cartoons and articles about sex in America. But if you need to jack off, turn to the Club family of magazines! Through the Looking Glass by Linda Rose He spoke on the phone with a sexual tone, it was subtle at first, then it escalated to an incredible climax that I thought I would burst! Through the power of suggestion he spoke in a whispering, hypnotic, voice, in which I let him by my own free will and choice. As he broke through to the very core of my subconscious, I transformed from Madonna to Whore with my legs spread and on my haunches. My breath became short and fast, as I finally broke all of my sexual inhibitions at last. I tried to stifle the raging fire, but there was an insatiable need to feed my sexual desire. I felt damned to eternal sin, as I resisted the battle from within. My mind said no, my body said yes, a conflict of interest at its best. As I slid my fingers into the unknown, he persuaded me with his voice on the phone. He spoke of wild, lascivious, fantasies and instructed me on what to do. I followed his orders, gliding down ever so slowly to my private quarters. I spread my legs wide and my body pulsated when I felt the moist, softness inside. I felt more and more content the deeper I went. The further I got the harder it was to stop. The longer I knelt, the better it felt. My legs stiffened, my muscles contracted, and all of my ligaments seemed to have reacted. As I was about to learn, I was getting closer to the point of no return. I arched my back and writhed and wriggled in sexual delight, cumming from the mirror image that was in front of my sight. (Though this poem might make a good song, it shows clearly what’s wrong, with trying to rhyme, within every line. - h.j.) AND IN THE END... “Montel Williams... asked a sexually adventuresome teenage bride, ‘What is it about pain that makes you feel good?’ ‘I can’t explain,’ she replied, adding rhetorically, ‘Why do you like chocolate pudding?’” TIME, March 11, 1996, pg. 65. -------------------------- Fuck Decency! ------------------------ -Back issues (and stories): type http://www.dejanews.com/ into your browser’s “Location” window. Press your “return” key. Click on “Power Search” in the middle of the screen. Find the box labelled “Main Archive”. Change “Main Archive” to “Complete Archive”. Next, do you see a blank box labelled “Power Search” ? Type in: roller666@earthlink.net in the blank box on the screen that has “Power Search” written next to it. Click on “find” (the button to the right of the box). -Other providers: Usenet Newsgroup: alt.sex.stories.moderated Or via the Web: http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/ -When visiting Barnes and Noble, ask for: Jock Sturges’ Radiant Identities and David Hamilton’s The Age of Innocence. Support art! -Also by David Hamilton: A Place in the Sun, and Twenty Five Years of an Artist Need a book? http://www.amazon.com - NAKED girls, under 18! Plus scholarly books. Publishing for over a decade, it’s http://www.AlessandraSmile.com - JOIN NAMBLA! Web: http://www.nambla.org -Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is copyright 1998 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. Work by others copyright 1998 by the respective copyright holder. -END OF 405 EMISSION -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----