Message-ID: <20907asstr$942214201@assm.asstr-mirror.org> From: MichaelD38@aol.com X-Original-Message-ID: <0.f3c030d0.2545f8b2@aol.com> X-Post-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 1999 14:17:22 EDT Subject: {ASSM} <*>{GALAGO} Animal Attraction (MichaelD) (MF, oral, vague bdsm) Date: Wed, 10 Nov 1999 01:10:01 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: assm-admin <1st attachment, "Attraction.txt" begin> IMPORTANT LEGAL INFORMATION If you have received this work in your e-mail box and do not know why, it is because your Internet service provider is forwarding posts from Usenet newsgroups to your account. It has *NOT* been e-mailed to you by the author. You must contact your ISP for help. This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons is unintentional and strictly coincidental. This work contains explicit descriptions of sexual activity, and anyone offended by such things should read no further. If reception of this work is illegal due to your age or other repressive local regulations, liability for downloading it is your problem, not mine. This work is intended solely for the quiet and private enjoyment of adults, and any other use is a violation of the copyright. This work is Copyright 1999 by MichaelD38@aol.com and is protected by United States and other international copyright law. Reposting and archiving is permitted, except where a fee of any sort is required or earned for access, provided this disclaimer and note remain attached to the story. All other rights, specifically rights of commercial use, are reserved. Commercial use here is defined to include posting on membership web sites, banner-funded web sites, and those protected by fee- based age validation methods (such as Adultcheck and Adultsights). However, exception is specifically made for web sites (such as DejaNews) that provide archiving and access to all Usenet posts in a particular group without editing or selection for content. No modifications may be made to this story (except those necessary for normal newsgroup dissemination) without express permission from the author. Any questions regarding use of this work can be directed to the address above. Failure to contact the author prior to use is presumptive evidence of bad faith and may expose you to significant criminal and civil liability. AUTHOR'S NOTE This story is my contribution to ASSM's coming out party. Though fictional, it's based a few things I have experienced. Intelligent comments and criticisms will receive appropriate responses. Flames and juvenile slobbering go straight to the recycling bin. All my stories, including this one, are available at Stories Online: www.storiesonline.net. ANIMAL ATTRACTION Copyright 1999 by MichaelD38@aol.com My uncle is a prominent psychiatrist, and he specializes in treating alcoholics. One of the things I've often heard him say is that it's not the tenth drink that gets you drunk, it's the first one. I don't think I really ever understood that aphorism until now. Alcohol isn't my problem, though. This girl I'm sitting here waiting for is. When she gets here, we're going to have sex, and it feels as much like an addiction as anything I've ever experienced. I'm sitting at a table outside one of the campus cafes. I've picked this spot for a very good reason. Nearby is a building, and in the basement there is a room I have the keys to. It's the office of student group I'm a part of. It's a Friday, and no one else will be there. I'm fooling myself, of course. It isn't really a room; it's only a locked cubicle, containing nothing but a sheet steel desk and a chair. But we're going to have sex there, even though there may be other people in the outer suite. I try to tell myself that I don't know why I'm taking such a risk, but I do. She was supposed to be here at 12:30, and it's 12:35 now. I'm reading a copy of the student paper, trying to pretend that I'm not in a lather of apprehension. But no one is paying attention to me anyway. Then I finally see her. She's walking up the sidewalk toward me. She sees me, tries to smile. I can tell she's as nervous as I am. This isn't the first time for us, nor will it be the last. Last week, she came over to my place wearing a thin white cotton dress and a purple bra and garter belt ensemble. No panties. And no pubic hair, either. I asked her shave it, and she did. When she got there, I had blindfolded and handcuffed her, and we had fucked like maniacs for nearly an hour. So much had gone on, but I kept thinking about the first moment I had touched her shaved labia, realizing she had no panties on, feeling that smooth flesh. I had never had a woman with a shaved pussy before. She sits down next to me. "Hi." "Hi." "How are you?" "Good. You?" "I don't know if this will work," I say. "If there's someone else there, we can just hang out." She nods. We both know it's bullshit. We will not separate this afternoon without having fucked somehow. I look her over for a moment, wondering why she has such a hold over me. She's not conventionally pretty, even if she's attractive in her own way. Her face displays the melange of her ancestry, Irish, Scottish, Hispanic, Filipino, probably a few other things. From one angle she looks like a homegirl, from another, an island girl. Her hair is long, dark brown like her eyes, but heavily streaked. She's not thin, either. Her body is as lush as anything I've ever experienced, big breasts, full buttocks. I think again about the last week, when I first took her breasts in my hands, how I had smacked her buttocks as she knelt in front of me. How she had told me afterward that she wanted me to hit her harder. "Do you want to go over there?" She nods, and we get up. For some reason, neither of us feels very happy about this. It's not attraction; it's mutual addiction. No one is in the office suite. I open the door to the cubicle, and she follows me in. I shut the door behind us, making sure it's locked. I take her in my arms, kissing her. She begins to shake in her excitement and arousal, panting for breath. She seems almost frightened by this. I can't tell--at least from her face-- whether she's turned on or scared. Or both. I grope at her body, manhandling her breasts. She's wearing a tight, button-front black sweater, short-sleeved. I push it up over her tits, seeing the red satin bra she has on. I sit on the edge of the desk, and she's standing in front of me, pressing against me. I pull her tits out of her bra and start to abuse her dark brown nipples. She's gasping for breath now, shuddering. I bend to suck on them for a minute or two, and I bite them lightly as I do it. It hurts her. She wants it to. I unbutton her jeans, pulling them down a little. I reach into her panties, feeling the short stubble of her pubic hair. She hasn't shaved since last week, and I know why, though I don't want to think about it now. I find her sex. She's dripping wet, soaking her panties, and I force my middle finger inside her. She moans, holding my shoulders, trying to remain standing as I start to masturbate her. I don't know what we're going to do now. As I look at this desk, feeling it hard under my butt, I think that actual intercourse may not work here. I massage her clit vigorously for several minutes, wanting to get her off no matter what happens. I'm not sure I'm able to do it. She gets so turned on so fast that I can never tell when she's coming. Finally I withdraw from her, stepping back to the chair, sitting down. I don't need to say anything. She knows what's next. She helps me get my jeans down, and soon my bare butt is perched on the edge of the chair. She kneels on the hard linoleum floor, takes my penis in her hand, and leans forward. I remember the first time she did this last week. Although we knew each other well online, we had met perhaps twice before that. Surreal, was what it was. This woman I hardly knew in person had dropped to her knees and started sucking me off when I told her to. I'm erect now, inside her mouth. I wasn't before. I was too tense. But now she's bobbing slowly and steadily over my hard- on, up and down, up and down. Her arms are draped over my thighs. I lean back, putting my hands in her hair. Her technique is very basic, nothing but slow bobbing, but I'm getting more and more turned on. It's like she's jerking me off with her mouth. Suddenly I hear noises outside the cubicle. Someone is coming into the suite. We both freeze, and she leans back. Slowly I realize that they're going into another office. I look down at her. She's smiling. She thinks this is funny. She extends her tongue and runs up the underside of my cock. Then she's sucking me off again as I listen to the people in the outer suite. I can't let her stop. I don't want her to. I take hold of her head a moment. I speak as softly as I can. "Do you want to take me all the way?" She nods. But I know--I can tell from the look on her face-- that it doesn't matter to her what she wants. She'll do it because she knows I want her to. So she does. Back she goes, up and down, bobbing slowly, lips and tongue tight around my cock. Her mouth is incredibly wet, yet the friction is more than I can stand. I can feel it coming now. She's going to get me off. No other woman I've ever had has been able to do this, make me come with just her mouth, without using her hands at all. But it's going to happen. I try to hold myself off. I squeeze the muscles at the base of my cock, trying to stop it. It's not working. I feel the orgasm building in my groin, boiling, spinning, all that sweet pain building until I can't stand it any longer. My hand turns into a fist in her hair. The first shot of come is very small, it's really leaking out past my internal grip. But she senses it immediately. The next is a cannon shot, and somehow she gulps it down at once. Each ejaculation goes right down her throat, and she keeps sucking until it's completely over. Then she leans back. She doesn't really look at me. I stand up and pull up my pants. I'm not sure what to do now. What we have, despite the sex, is not intimate, at least not in person. A hug, a kiss, at this point seems out of place however much I feel like I should do it. So we just rearrange our clothes and leave. We pass a water fountain on the way out. I expect her to take a drink of water, something to wash out her mouth, but she doesn't. I wonder why. When we emerge from the building, back into the campus with its students milling around, I get a sense of the surreal again. I've just had a very good blow job not far from all these people, and only one other person on earth knows it. "Will you sit with me while I smoke a cigarette?" I nod. We sit down. She doesn't offer me one because she knows I don't smoke. I wonder if she's using the cigarette to clear the taste of my semen from her mouth. We don't really say anything of substance. We talk briefly about some of the people we know on AOL. I wonder, not for the first time, how we can open ourselves so completely online, yet in person, we hardly talk at all. I think about my sperm in her stomach. I can't help myself. I need to get home. I can't be gone much longer than this. "You should clean up before you go back. You might smell like me." I nod. I want to do something to acknowledge what we've just done, but the most I can make myself do is rub her shoulder quickly. I can see the pain in her eyes, just below the surface. Addiction. I hope she understands, but I'm not sure she does. I go home to my girlfriend. She goes home to her boyfriend. We'll meet again next week and say just as little to each other as we're rutting like wild animals. THE END <1st attachment end> Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. The post was sent as an email attachment and has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software. -- If you enjoyed this work, take a moment to email the author. Your comments are their only payment. 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