Message-ID: <18664eli$9901212113@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: "Martina Lee" Subject: Tell me another one (4/17 from Oh, Susana) FM, FMM+ Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain 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: <19981228174041.7082.qmail@hotmail.com> This is the fourth chapter of my book of short stories, collectively entitled "Oh, Susana". I am posting all 17 chapters, including reposts of the four chapters submitted previously. Please feel free to comment. WARNING: This is adult entertainment only, dealing with sex and sexual subjects in explicit language and detail. If you are under age for that kind of thing, leave now. This story, and others in the Oh, Susana series, may be reposted on ASSM, and redirected to ASS, but may not be put to commercial use by anyone but myself. I am willing to discuss them on ASSD or you can email me at Oh, Susana! The erotic adventures of a South Seas sexpot by Martina Lee 4. Tell me another one For a virgin bride, Susana was astonishingly imaginative in her approach to love-making. From the start she was insatiable, not just for the physical act, but also for the mental sex to which Neil was addicted. Early on, he told her how he had once, in his late teens, "talked" a girl to orgasm without even touching her as they sat in his car in a beachside parking lot. Susana didn't believe him — until he did it to her at dinner one night, leaning across their table in a quiet corner booth at The Steakhouse, his voice barely rising above a whisper as he told her, in explicit terms and infinite detail, just what he was going to do with her when he got her home. The waitress, looming up with the sweets trolley at the crucial moment, was alarmed to find her gasping for breath and clutching at her breast, and incensed that Neil seemed unconcerned that his lovely young wife was having a heart attack. It was quite embarrassing. But Susana revenged herself on him a few days later, making him cream his jeans at the movies just before the lights came on. Neil taught her to masturbate, to explore her own mind and body in search of the combinations that would unlock the vaults of greatest pleasure. She learned quickly, then insisted that they do it together. She set their easy-chairs two metres apart in the living room and they sat facing each other, nude, the fingers of each substituting for the fingers, lips and genitalia of the other, and made mad, passionate love for an hour without ever touching. She was unrelentingly curious about Neil's past life, especially his sex life. She asked endless questions about it, and his unashamedly graphic reminiscences only heightened her ardor. There was, for example, the anonymous fuck — the unknown woman he wooed with his eyes for two hours at the Golden Dragon, without ever coming within speaking distance of her. As far as he was concerned, it was just a bit of mental titillation, a way of passing the time. But when the place was closing and he was getting into his car she came running down the stairs after him and got into the back. Not a word was spoken. He drove straight home and they screwed their way from living room to kitchen and finally to bed. The only time she ever spoke was to say she was leaving the country in the morning. She was gone when he woke up. He never saw her again, and he didn't even know her name. Then there was the bondage. He had discovered, he said, that many or perhaps even most women were turned on by the mere idea of being tied up and "used". So he had fixed a large eyebolt at each corner of his bed. Inevitably, whenever he brought a "new" woman home, she wanted to know what they were for. And almost as inevitably, having been shown the velvet ropes he kept in a bedside drawer, she wanted to try it out. On one occasion, after lashing down his latest conquest at her own insistence, he left her spread-eagled, naked and helpless on the bed, with both the bedroom and front doors wide open, while he went to the shop. When he got back 15 minutes later she was in such a state that she came the moment he touched her. Another female turn-on, he had found, was being semi-naked in public. One hot and crowded night in the Dragon he had suggested to the woman he was with that her knickers might be put to use as a sweat-rag. She went to the Ladies and took them off, then came back and mopped his face with them. He put them in his pocket. Then he took her out on the dance floor and whirled her around trying to get her pleated skirt to flip up. By the time the number ended she was trembling with excitement, and insisted that they leave. She was all over him even before he got the car started, and made him pull off the road at the first dark spot so they could lay the seats back and make whoopee. There was much more — a single episode with two girls in his bed at the same time, sex in a hotel swimming pool at one o'clock in the morning, the office churchmouse who found him working alone on a Saturday afternoon and went down on him under his desk, for starters. Susana soaked it all up, filed it away in her head for future reference, and set out to write a whole new volume of entries in his erotopaedia. It was her idea, on a star-bright but moonless night soon after they were married, to make love in the nude on the front lawn, with only the straggly croton hedge shielding them from the road. When he climaxed, she had to clap both hands tightly over his mouth for fear that his cries would attract the attention of people at the bus stop barely a half-dozen metres away. It was her idea, coming home from the movies, to "park up" by the seawall and recreate for him the frantic kiss-and-fumble let-your-fingers-do-the-talking car sex of his youth. After about half an hour of grapple-and-grope she had a better idea. She halted the handjob and packed him back in his pants, sat up and peeled off all her clothes, then pulled the seatback release and lay back, her naked brown body gleaming in the moonlight. "Now," she said. "Drive." She made him tour the city for an hour and a half, refusing to cover herself even when they were caught at a red light and a bus pulled up alongside. It was her idea, on a wet day, to have lunch in the car in the middle of the university's main parking lot. When they'd finished their sandwiches she slipped out of her knickers and offered herself for dessert. Then, on the drive back to work, with the tyres hissing on the wet road and the windscreen wipers beating a copulatory cadence, she laid her head in his lap and returned the favor. Like masturbation, these and other similar episodes stretched the limits of her self-awareness and taught her that her mind was the most sensitive, and most important, of all her erogenous zones. They also helped to keep Neil in an almost constant state of arousal. He encouraged her to fantasise, and to share her fantasies with him. When they went out dancing he enjoyed watching her hone her seductive skills by flirting with other men. Later, in bed, she would tell him how this guy or that had felt on the dance floor, precisely how he had tried to chat her up and, in great detail, what she would have done with him if circumstances permitted. Then, occasionally, they would act out the fantasy with Neil in the role of her unsuspecting victim. It irked her, however, that she had no true stories of her own with which to regale him. She made the most she could of Alipate, the good-looking youth who had trapped her in his flat a few months before she met Neil and badgered her into jerking him off. Neil enjoyed hearing about that, but it was a poor adventure at best and she wished she could offer him more in return for his own outrageous tales. About a year and a half into their marriage, her wish was granted. For some months Susana had been having a regular weekly night out "with the girls". She and two or three girlfriends would meet for dinner, then head off to a nightclub for a few drinks and some serious dancing. Occasionally they would accept an invitation to a party, and sometimes she didn't get home until close to dawn. Neil didn't seem to mind, although he invariably sat up and waited for her, and she was able to bring home a string of imaginary lovers to tease him with when she dragged him off to bed. One night at the Tropicana she and her friends Milika and June found themselves the centre of attention of an entire visiting Australian soccer team. They danced and danced, and were overwhelmed with the kind of courtesy that was hard to come by in a Pacific Islands nightclub. All the guys were perfect gentlemen. They were under manager's orders to be back at their hotel by midnight, but they made it clear they would be partying on in Room 323 when the manager sacked out, and why didn't the girls come and join them later? Susana said they might, and at one o'clock when the Tropicana closed they talked it over and decided to take up the offer. All more than a little tipsy, they sneaked giggling past the hotel reception desk and had a bit of trouble finding the room. But eventually they were standing in front of the right door and could hear music playing behind it. Susana knocked, then had to knock louder. The door opened, the music poured out into the corridor, and there was the goalkeeper, wearing only his underpants. In the room behind him Susana could see several of his team-mates in a similar state of undress. "Hello," said the goalkeeper. "We didn't think you were coming." He stepped back against the wall and made a courtly bow. "Come on in," he said. Susana looked at her friends, shrugged, and walked past him into the room. June and Milika followed. It was actually a suite, the connecting door to the adjoining room was open, and the whole touring squad was there. A couple of them were wearing laplaps, two or three were still dressed much as they had been at the nightclub, but most of them were no more covered-up than the goalkeeper — and at least one was clad in nothing more than a jockstrap, a garment Susana had never seen before. The goalkeeper, playing the attentive host, shooed two of his team-mates out of the armchairs beside the low table and called for another from the next room. As the girls settled into the chairs the tall striker loomed over them. "What will you have to drink?" he said. "We have beer, beer, and beer." They settled for beer. There were no glasses, but what the hell. Susana took a pull at her bottle, then accepted the striker's invitation to dance and got to her feet. Milika and June were soon up alongside her, each with a semi-naked man as partner. They danced, drank, danced some more, drank some more. There was some low cheering from the adjoining room, and Susana went to investigate. She had to push past several hard bodies standing in the doorway. Two of the guys had stripped completely and were standing facing each other in the middle of the room, masturbating. From the encouraging noises being made by the audience, it was some kind of contest. Susana watched in wonderment until one of them ejaculated and was proclaimed the winner, then pushed her way back to her chair in the other room, picked up her bottle and took another swig. She looked around, found that everything was slightly out of focus, and shook her head to clear it. Milika was in one of the other armchairs, deep in conversation with a guy who was sitting on the floor beside her. June was dancing with a jockstrap, who kept leaning over and whispering in her ear. Suddenly she stopped, pulled her dress off over her head and threw it on the table, then unsnapped her bra and stood stripped to her white bikini briefs. Someone cheered and June laughed, a little hysterically Susana thought, then started dancing again. Her partner peeled off his jockstrap and stood rampantly naked in front of her, obviously daring her to do the same. June shook her head, came back to the table and had another drink. Behind her, three more guys stripped off their last remaining garments. When she turned back, the four of them formed a semi-circle which closed around her as she stepped into it. There was more cheering, and June laughed again as she danced around the circle from one guy to the next, rubbing against them and touching and fondling their rapidly developing erections. Someone else walked up to Susana, slipped out of his jockettes and invited her to join the fun. She smiled sweetly at him and declined his kind offer, then craned her head around him to see what all the noise was about. June was on the bed with a naked man on either side of her, her hands busily pumping their pricks. A third guy knelt on the end of the bed and fitted himself between her feet. Susana had another drink, watched with a kind of detached interest until June's right-hand man came in a paroxysm of groaning and hip-twitching, to a fresh round of clapping and cheering, and the foot-fucker shot his load all over her legs. As the first-comer rolled off the bed, another took his place. Susana tapped Milika on the shoulder, rolled her eyes towards the connecting door, and the pair of them got up and walked into the other room. The guys in there were sitting on the floor playing cards. Susana and Milika joined them, shared a succession of bottles as they were passed from mouth to mouth around the circle, and made small talk. Every so often there was a spate of groaning and clapping from the other room, and a minute or so later another happy tourist staggered through the door, dripping with sweat and looking for a place to rest. As time went on, some of them went back for seconds. At about 4am Susana decided it was time to go home. Silence had fallen over the adjoining room and, after checking that Milika also wanted to go, she got up to tell June. There were two guys asleep on the bed and another breathing heavily in one of the armchairs. There was no sign of June. Susana tested the door to the bathroom, slid it open. There was a man sitting on the toilet. June was on her knees in front of him, her head in his crotch, and the goalkeeper was on HIS knees behind her, his hands grasping her hips and his taut white buttocks beating out a bossa-nova rhythm. Susana coughed politely. The goalkeeper didn't break stroke, but June lifted her head and looked around. Her eyes were glazed, her lips red and puffy. "We're ready to go home," said Susana. "Oh," said June. She thought for a moment, then: "Alright. I'll see you later." She grinned, and turned back to carry on the great oral tradition of her ancient people. Susana slid the door shut and went back to collect Milika. They thanked their hosts for a lovely evening, and left. It was several days before Susana plucked up the courage to tell Neil all about it. They had just finished a marathon session of love-making, but the story re-inspired him and they started all over again. Later, he told her it was not so much the thought of June's endeavours that turned him on, as the fact that Susana had been there to see it. He never questioned her fidelity, never suggested that she may have been more than a passive observer. Somehow, it confirmed the trust he placed in her, and knowing that made her love him all the more. She retold the story dozens of times in the next few years, and it never failed to have the desired effect on him. On both of them, in fact. There was no need to embellish it. The mere re-telling, even years later, was enough to put them both into a frenzy of lust. Susana had her story at last, and it was one which could not be topped. Until Peter. -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----