Message-ID: <16917eli$9811060558@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: losgud Subject: <*> {losgud} NEW--On the Virtue of Having Your Ribs Crushed Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: see@iglou.com, end@iglou.com, note@iglou.com MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit Content-Type: text/plain; charset=iso-8859-1; name="RIBCRUSH.TXT" Content-Disposition: inline; filename="RIBCRUSH.TXT" 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: <3641F700.3A4D@hotnomail.com> TO THE REGULARS UP AT THE BAR: yea yea, I've been immersed in several longish unending pieces, & the real world is flogging away at my free time and blah blah blah. I submit these two short "Rib" & "Beach" stories purely as evidence that I am still breathing. Get them pushed off the desk. A little bit of ball&shout, which--save your dissin'-- will likely be quickly dismissed as of the "lesser losgud canon." Ehh, so what? Better than licking the carpet. Several full-fledged pieces soon to follow. ========================= The following work is pure fiction. All people, places & situations are complete fabrications of my imagination. Any resemblance is wrong. Content includes GRAPHIC SEX. If your laws state that you are too young to be reading this, grow up and change those laws. Until then, duh, go wild in your own head. ©1998 losgud. These words belong to me. Don't fuck with them. Write your own. NO for-profit use, reposting, archiving [other than a.s.s.m & Deja News] etc. Read, download, share with a friend. Consider unauthorized inclusion in a personal web site as an infringement of copyright. ========================= M/F Cons -B/+D-lite(a little wanky spanky) NOTE: Here's another quick romp. Apologies for the intro--but that's how this story suggested itself. Inspiration acknowledged. As always, enjoy! ON THE VIRTUE OF HAVING YOUR RIBS CRUSHED [snippet of a long-distance conversation] F: Because of your teasing, I send you a hug that is so-o hard, that it hurts you a bit. M: A rib-crushing hug does sound nice. F: It wasn't meant to be nice! And just now I would like to do that to you in person--and even harder. Oh, your poor ribs . . . M: And then what would you do to me to make it up to me? F: Because I have been so bad to you--that I have broken your ribs--I have to do anything you wish to make it up to you . . . Master, I obey your every word! Just tell me what you want me to do to for the evil deed I have done . . . M: Oh really? + + + Then you _have_ followed my directions. You await me, kneeling on the bed, your lovely ass poking up in invitation as your back slopes your head to the pillow. You wear nothing but the softest, silkiest, skimpiest panties you own. You try not to laugh at the sight of me walking into the room wearing nothing but about thirty feet of medical tape wrapped around my torso. I go and sit in a comfortable chair at the foot of the bed, my vision directly between--indeed directed there--by the splay of your legs, to the treasure concealed by a pouch of light fabric, the inspiring curvature of your ass above. You know what to do. Tentatively you slide a hand to that very spot, where your panties nearly disappear between your legs. You cup yourself, then let a finger slowly define the cleft of your womanly wonder, teasing the cloth up into the fold. You are to masturbate. I want to watch you play with yourself through your panties until you come. You could probably climax much more quickly by being allowed to slip your hand under the elastic, the touch of your fingers against the flesh of your cunt familiar and knowing. But I want your panties thoroughly soaked in the juices of your pleasure. When I eventually leave your place, I intend to take them with me, placing them under my pillow to ensure that my dreams be always sweet and fragrant and full of you. The thing is, you usually love yourself in the shower. You've told me as well that you don't think you could actually bring yourself off while under my gaze. Better change that tune fast! I'm a good sport; I give you a good couple minutes head-start. I have a watch to time the interval. After that, every thirty seconds you're still trying, I reach over and give your ass an open-palmed smack. I start off soft, then get harder--my hand _and_ my cock! Gradually you shift into a train of sounds: smack: quick grunt, long moan. Smack: quick grunt, long moan. You surrender yourself to the rhythm, knowing my hand is never going to more than redden your skin. After not that long but still all of a sudden you begin to give in to yourself. All your limbs start to tremble. Neither of us guess how close you are. All your sounds and movements state you're still well- climbing your peak. Twenty-five seconds. You mark another rise in your ascent--twenty-eight--but then the small spike you drive strikes lava. And you are spurted high and hot into a space you've rarely known. But it's too late to stop my hand. I watch helplessly as it swings to, a final swat on your swollen bottom, you too lost to sing a remand as you sink to the sand, drilling through layers of pleasure. That was an undeserved spank. Though your limbs are all but collapsed, I insist on tugging the twist of your panties all the way free down past your feet. Then I lean forward to make amends. Quietly I croon and caress the reddened flesh of your ass. I kiss you, gently. The curves of your most secret parts. My tongue and nose guide me down deeper into your treasures. This isn't the moistness of simple lust. I spread your swollen lips with my fingers, nestling my lower lip around the stiff tip of your clit, my tongue darting inside your well- exposed cunt--your cunt that is greedy to bring me pleasure. The same way my cock truly desires nothing more than to pleasure you repeatedly. These sentiments possess the very purity of love. But such things don't stop me from licking you to the very edge, then stopping. My only touch is a light brushing of my fingertips, like feathers across the delicate skin of your inner thighs. You whimper lightly, and then I resume. After the third or fourth "pause", you whine at my cruelty, my continuing tease, but then I surprise you greatly. Suddenly my returning tongue is instead the head of my cock. Once that pushes past your gates, I slide the rest inside, my cock nestling up into your very depths. You give an unending gasp as I penetrate you, then shatter in a minor but significant orgasm. Which I feel deep down in your shivering core. Then I began to fuck you, slowly and in earnest. Steadily I help you build up again, our flesh slapping together, the sounds the vocabulary of love. I want nothing but to ride you to heaven and back, then take you back there again and again. But I know I'm much too excited to endure all that. Indeed, as your vagina begins to ripple and squeeze my shaft, I can feel how the wildness of the moment makes it all but impossible. Right as you clench down hard, my cock swells all the more. You give a guttural squeal and I a harsh shout, and then we detonate in unison, the spasms reaching your very toes as I pump my sperm deep inside you. We both collapse, twisting to a tangle on the bed as our limbs turn to jelly. I come to rest on my back, with you snuggled up beside me, tossing a leg over mine, claiming me as yours. As we kiss away all our transgressions, my hand moves lovingly across the landscape of you, cupping the full weight of your breast, twirling the stiff nub of your nipple, sliding up the slope from your torso to your hip. I feel the wetness of your cunt pressed to my thigh, the slow flow of our juices leaking out against me. You purr in perfect satisfaction, your tongue lapping against mine. I could lie here for the ages like this, entwined, drifting slowly into a luscious sleep. But all these sensations serve to stir me again. You give a little giggle as you feel me stiffen against you. "Oh, my ribs are aching. Especially that one poking up way down there. Though it doesn't seem at all broken. Maybe you should kiss it and make it feel better." You laugh, a finger swirling lightly around the engorged head. Then you slide down the length of my body, leaving a trail of contented sighs. You taste yourself as you slip me into your mouth. You may be doing your master's bidding, but you are the master of what you are doing, holding me completely in your control. Up and down, slow and fast, stop and start. You play me like an instrument, exacting from my moans and groans the purest of tones. Finally--_finally!_--you stop to whisper, "Come in my mouth, baby. I want to taste you all night long." You resume sucking me, a renewed frenzy, and I obey almost within an instant. I am delirious as I explode, screaming and nearly fainting as you drain me dry. I am wordless, heart still pounding, as you wind your way back up, rolling me onto my side so you can nestle into a spoon behind me. You shift a bit, then your arm snakes under mine. As your hand reaches up from my chest, I feel something very soft brush my cheek. You place your panties on the pillow next to my face. I smell the generous aroma of your love as we sink into sleep. "Sweet dreams," you murmur. ========================= Like? Yes? No? Comments welcome. losgud@hotmail.com ========================= I am archived at DejaNews under "Author" name: LUSHGOD@HOTNOMAIL.COM -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----