Message-ID: <21718asstr$944791801@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: "Erin Halfelven (Joyce Melton)" Subject: {ASSM} Repost Story: Christmas, Adam by Morgan Preece Reply-To: Joyce@qnez.com X-Original-Message-ID: <8o905s02183d9codb5kbjlsnqh47523hrm@4ax.com> MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Lines: 85 NNTP-Posting-Date: Thu, 09 Dec 1999 14:06:28 PST Date: Thu, 9 Dec 1999 21:10:01 -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: apuleius, newsman, kelly More stories like this one are available for free at www.NaughtyWords.com. This story is intended for the entertainment of adults only. If you are not old enough to view sexually explicit material in your locale or are offended by such material please stop reading immediately. Email may be addressed to the author at morganpreece@anon.nymserver.com. Copyright (C) 1998, 1999 by Morgan Preece. All rights reserved. ###################### Christmas, Adam by Morgan Preece I found it lying on some ferns near the river. At first it baffled me, so strange it seemed. Mostly it was smooth and a color not unlike some rocks I have seen, though oddly shaped. I made my way closer. "Is it a pile of stones?" I asked. No one answered. Then I noticed that what had seemed a random arrangement of pieces were all connected. It had branches and fronds grew from it, mostly on one end but also near the middle where two of its branches separated. And beautiful flowers decorated the ends of two of its shortest branches. I knelt beside it. "Is it a flowering tree?" I asked. No one answered. Leaning over it to try to smell the blossoms, I saw that what I had taken for fronds seemed more like fur and that a sound came from it. It sounded like a breeze playing among the trees or an animal breathing softly. Close up, it smelled sweet, but not like flowers, more like the deer that eat sweet clover in the mornings. And what I had taken for flowers were clearly paps. "Is it a sleeping doe?" I asked. No one answered. I was alone. Certain now that it was an animal, I reached to touch it. Its smooth skin felt warm under my fingertips. What I knew now to be its eyes fluttered and it seemed about to awaken. I let my fingers trail down its forelimb to where its paw seemed to bear digits remarkably like my own fingers. Smaller and more delicate but definitely like my own. I asked no question and heard no answers. I trailed the fingers of one hand across its chest, its breasts rose and fell softy with its breathing. I gently touched one of the mounds tipped with the flowerlike darkness of different colored skin. I felt the center of the colored part of its breast change and move with my touch. With my other hand, I parted the soft fur that grew between its legs and probed for what I hoped to find. It was a female. She was a female. She, a female animal unlike any I had ever seen, she resembled nothing in the world so much as myself. I am not unique, I thought. I reached for the fur that grew between my own legs, for the maleness that marked me as like half of all the animals I had ever seen and unlike the other half. The half she was like. Her eyes were open and I knew she was looking at me. Looking at me holding myself, my male part as it grew stiff in my hand. Looking at me as I covered one of her breasts with my other hand, her eyes gazing into mine. Her breath quickening as she lifted one hand and placed it over my flesh. "We are alone, we two," she said. Her voice seemed like mine but higher, lighter, somehow sweeter. She moved her hand only slightly against my flesh and I felt my own breath quicken. She opened her legs and used her other hand to open her femaleness to me. Open to my maleness. I entered her and it was good, very good to be alone, we two. ################################################ More Stories like this one are available for free at www.NaughtyWords.com. Copyright 1998, 1999 by Morgan Preece. All rights reserved. Email comments to morganpreece@anon.nymserver.com. -- Read any NaughtyWords lately? -- If you enjoyed this work, take a moment to email the author. Your comments are their only payment. 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