Message-ID: <22049asstr$946523400@assm.asstr-mirror.org> From: grumbles@juno.com Subject: {ASSM} {Y2K} The Y2K Bet {grumbles} (MF stroke) X-Original-Message-ID: <19991229.193957.-251713.2.Grumbles@juno.com> MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-Juno-Att: 0 X-Juno-RefParts: 0 Date: Wed, 29 Dec 1999 22:10:00 -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: kelly, dennyw This work is Copyright grumbles@juno.com, all rights reserved. Don't repost or cut this up, unless I get a bunch of money. This is porn. It's vile, evil, and despicable. It will rot your brain, ruin your eyes, destroy your marriage, and send you straight to hell. That goes double for anyone who is a minor. If you're in a police state somewhere that this is illegal, go ahead and read it, you probably need it. Then again, don't come sobbing to me when the secret police beat your ass. Don't leave this out where your kids can see it, or if you do expect grandkids pretty soon. :) The Y2K Bet (MF cons stroke) by grumbles (grumbles@juno.com) 12/27/99 "You're full of shit, James," the red headed computer programmer sighed wearily, "You really ought to take some time out and learn something. All that Art Bell drivel is rotting your brain. I told you already Y2K is just a bunch of hype. Give it up!" For the fifth time this month, Tricia was arguing with her neighbor from across the hall. James wasn't always an idiot, he just obsessed about the little shit. Trish had been making big bucks fixing the minor glitches in software for hysterical business owners with old systems. If James were to take the word of anyone, why not hers? "How do you know, Trish? I mean what if something does happen, and civilization collapses, you won't be prepared!" James rattled on his usual litany of plagues, terrors, and computer malfunctions which made that Pharaoh guy's problems look like a head cold. It was a shame too, he was a pretty normal looking guy. He just read too many conspiracy magazines, or something similar. She looked him over subtly while he waved his arms and capered around; he looked rather handsome. Well, if you overlook the crazed terror his eyes always got when he went on about the end of the world. He had a swimmer's body, trim and lithe, and she knew how strong he was. She still remembered when he playfully picked her up in one arm and effortlessly carried her down the stairs. She felt herself getting a little warmer actually, his proximity and strength had been very arousing. She was startled out of her reverie when he touched her arm, leaning in to emphasize his point. "Is that a risk you're willing to take, to be totally unprepared for the end of the world?" He shook his head in a disapproving manner, her obvious reluctance to join in the mob's frenzy frustrated him to no end. She laughed, hoping he wouldn't notice how red her face had become at his touch. She said flippantly, "I think that it IS a risk I'm willing to take, I do after all have a little information on my side. I'm not a gambling girl, but I know nothing's going to happen." "You really want to bet on that though," said James with surprise, "After all if you're right then you haven't won anything, and if I'm right you'll be begging me for food and fresh water!" She really wanted to shut him up, the argument had never gone anywhere yet, and wouldn't until it was all over. Her eyes lit up with an idea, sometimes James was more helpful than he could imagine! "If you're so sure, then yes! Let's bet," Trish said with a sadistic undertone to her voice. After all, the phrase 'never bet on a sure thing' was meant for gentlemen, not for her. "If I win, you have to get me into that exclusive health club you go to. I know the waiting list takes months but I want to be working out right after my resolutions are finished!" She finished with a flair; it was something he could get her with only a little trouble, but she'd rather force it out of him than ask him. "Wait a second, it's all well and good for you to talk about what you get when you win," James sputtered, "But what do I get if I win? After all, civilization will collapse and it's not like you can write me a check!" Trish grinned slightly, nobody said he wasn't a bright boy. "All right then James, I tell you what. I don't have time to quibble with you now, you give it some thought tonight and call me tomorrow and let me know, okay?" With a schoolgirl flounce she turned and marched her petite form back to the door of her apartment. As she closed the door behind her, she heard James call out one last time. "You've got a bet, hon!" 12/28/99 Trish lay back on the cushy red couch in her apartment, an easy 15 minutes away from her latest job, with a Fortune 500 company needing Y2K programming muscle at the last minute. Her apartment was modest, but suited her just fine. A computer in both rooms, neatly networked and decked in scented candles. It didn't have too much expensive furniture, but she didn't throw tea parties either. Rolling her neck around to get the kinks out, she listened to her messages. Fast forwarding through a few Christmas thanks and one from her mother she'd have to go back to, she found the one she hoped for. "Heeey Trish, this is James! I came up with just the thing, but I want to tell you about it. I'll call back at six to talk to ya!" She deleted the message and looked across the room at the luminous clock numerals. Ten minutes left, she could do that. While she waited she caught up on e-mail, puttering around cleaning up the last bits of mess from her Christmas alone. Right on time, the phone rang. "Hey James," she said in as relaxed a tone as she could manage. "Okay Trish, you're SURE you want to bet on this," he asked in a surprisingly nervous voice. Maybe what she asked for was too difficult for him. Well it was too late now. "Of course, did you come to your senses and realize I was right all along yet, hon?" "No, but once we make the bet, no matter who wins, we'll go through with it right? No backing out?" "Absolutely, I wouldn't back out. What do you want if you're right already, spit it out!" He paused for a moment. Trish took the time to slide over to the computer and open up a web browser. "I want you to sleep with me." "Sure, sure. It's a bet, not like you'll win anyway." "Trish, did you hear what I said? If I win, I want you to," he faltered momentarily, "to have sex with me." Trish did a double take. That's what I get for not paying attention I suppose, she thought to herself. "Wow, James, I never knew you felt that way about me. I'm flattered, really, but I don't know about that. That's a pretty personal thing to ask, don't you think?" "Hey now Trish, what did we say about backing out? I realize that the bet isn't even, so I'll up the ante. If you win, I'll get you into the club and I'll pay for your personal trainer for the first four months. You *did* agree after all," he pointed out almost petulantly. Well, what was there to lose? It's not like she'd have to actually go through with it, it was just the principle of the thing. Trish shrugged her shoulders. It wouldn't be so bad if he took it wrong, after all. "Alright damn it, alright. You've got a deal." He seemed startled, she had to repeat herself. "Well wow, okay," his voice found its old bravado, "I'll see you at nine then, my place?" With a click, he was gone. She sat staring at her computer screen unseeing for a few moments. Her mind wandering, she imagined what might happen if she did happen to lose. Fumbling around in the dark, finding a flashlight, James smiling confidently in the half darkness, coming for her to claim his winnings. The ringing of the phone interrupted her. She jumped, suddenly realizing her robe was half open. She calmed her breathing and answered. It was her mother calling with typical motherly conversation, but Trish noticed with a blush just how arousing her momentary fantasy had been. She rolled her thighs and hips gently, feeling the cool air on the moistness of her exposed panties. That night as she lay in bed awake, she saw in her mind's eye James' warm, possessive smile. When she did sleep, her dreams were vivid. 12/31/99 It hadn't been difficult to get the night off; Trish just tripled her hourly rate for the evening and the supervisor decided he'd make do with the staff on salary. With an afternoon off, she'd fought the mall and dodged the crazy drivers drinking a little early. Looking over the rewards of her shopping trip, she thought it was well worth the money. She stood in front of the full length mirror in her bedroom. Spaghetti straps held up a short red dress, altered so that it fit her waist and hips snugly. She ran her hands over her breasts and trailed down her side, turning to smooth the velvet material over her rounded ass. Slit up well past mid thigh on the side, the hem stopped well short of her knees. Glad I'm wearing the high-rise bikini, she thought to herself bemused, or it wouldn't be too hard to guess what color her panties were. Thinking again, she decided differently. Wobbling slightly in her red heels, she slipped the lacy silk over her hips and past her stockings. Stopping momentarily to resnap her garters, she stepped out of them altogether. She ran her hand over her hips and crotch, feeling the cool air and soft fabric against her warm lips. Feeling delightfully naughty, she turned out the lights and walked out the door. Even though she was a few minutes early, James opened the door immediately. His apartment was warm, the yellow flickering light from many candles filled the room. "I see you're prepared, James," Trish said with a chuckle, "but how will you know if the world ends?" She looked around the apartment; it really was a nice place. Candles graced every horizontal surface except his coffee table, which was set with fine silver and dishes of something that looked very complicated. "I thought we'd watch the ball drop actually, the shows should be something. I hope you don't mind I made some dinner," James said as he played host. He was dressed very nicely, a form fitting button up shirt that looked silk and a pair of pants that showed off his ass to great effect. He looked very polished, handsome. He put on the TV to a local channel that had Times Square on, and sat down to eat. The dinner was delicious, some French dish she couldn't try to pronounce. They sat and talked for a while, watching the muted capering of various artists and party goers on the TV. The clock read one minute to eleven, the count down beamed live from the East coast where they were inches from the crisis moment. The partying got rough, very rough, and the police around the stage were working hard just to protect themselves. The count down began, and Trish decided to be a bit early. With a shout of "Happy New Year" she leaned over and kissed him on the lips, with perhaps a little more passion than she intended. Their lips wrestled gently, and she slipped her tongue in his mouth. Her breasts pressed against him; she could feel her pulse in her chest and throat. One of his hands moved up to stroke her side as the other stroked the back of her neck gently. She pulled back and leaned against his side a little. The countdown was just reaching ten. "A little early are we," asked James, short of breath though he was. Trish just smiled, watching the ball get closer and closer. The crowd victoriously shouted and cheered as the guy with the mike announced the dawning of the new millennium. His words were barely out of his mouth when the TV picture abruptly disappeared. Silence descended on the apartment, not even the heater was working. "Shit," Trish almost shouted, "What the fuck?" James put his arm around her, more to calm her than out of predatory instinct. She took a few deep breaths. The candles kept the room flickering in a warm rosy light. They sat for a moment, listening to the silence and shouts of dismay from the neighbors. Trish felt his hand gently stroking her shoulder, letting her know in an almost brotherly way that he was still here for her. After a few minutes, Trish got up the courage to speak. "James do you remember the bet we made?," she asked with a quivering voice. When he mumbled his attention, she continued, "I guess you did win after all. So, well, do you think we should just..." "Trish, I know what we said," interrupted James, "But if you're uncomfortable with this or if you have changed your mind then we can forget the..." She turned back towards him and silenced him with a kiss, caressing his neck and chest with her nails. After the initial surprise, he melted into her arms, stroking her back feebly as he lay beneath her. She took his hand, and placed it on the thin material covering her breast. Taking the hint, he began to knead with his hand, stroking the exposed top with his fingertips and rubbing his palms in little circles over the nipple. She moaned into his mouth as the warmth ran through, sucking his tongue fiercely. His hand moved down her side, cupping her ass and lightly drawing the fabric over her bare skin. Trish spread her legs slightly, allowing him access to her thighs. Moving to his neck, Trish began to lick and suck gently behind his ear. His strong hand kneaded the flesh of her bare thigh above her stocking, tickling the skin at the hem of her skirt. She moaned again, plaintively, pushing her hips forward against his hand. James ran his hand over the smooth flesh of her thigh, stroking slowly towards the heat he felt radiating from her sex. When his fingers found the bare moist lips and light fur of her mound, his cock twitched in his pants. She gasped in his ear, legs stiffening as he lightly brushed his fingers between her lips and the length of her slit. He settled into a steady rhythm, stroking the outer and inner lips ever so lightly with his fingertips. Her hands flew to his belt, caressing his now erect penis through the material before unbuckling and unzipping. Her slim warm hand wrapped around his shaft and stroked gently, circling the head and teasing the little opening at the top. He started to slide down the couch, leaning towards her sex. She stopped him with a hand on his chest, forcing him to lay back. He caught her eye curiously, his hips unconsciously thrusting every so slightly up at the cold air. She lifted her knee over him and straddled him, leaning against him and pressing her tongue deeply into his mouth. The head of his penis rubbed gently at the top of her slit, tickling the trim hair of her soft mons and grazing her inner lips. She reached beneath herself and grabbed his already wet shaft. She groaned as she felt him enter her, pressing herself down over him as she slowly pulled him deep inside her. She felt the bone above his penis finally pressing against her clit. Nestled against him with her hips lewdly spread around his, Trish watched her watery shadow on the wall. Her shadow's arms slipped the straps of the dress off its shoulders, and her skin felt hot to the touch as she ran her hands over her chest and breasts, pushing the skirt to her waist. James leaned forward, his hot lips closed around her breast. His teeth found her hard nipple and she gasped. She squirmed her hips, rubbing her clit against his pubic bone and feeling his penis throb inside her. She started to buck, her vaginal muscles clenching and stretching in time with her thrusting hips. She felt filled, his hands caressing her warm back and cupping her bare ass, riding him for her own pleasure. She looked down, noticing with amusement how lewd her splayed lips looked around his penis; the flimsy skirt had ridden up her hips and only hung gently over her ass. She leaned into him, feeling her excitement rise as he started to thrust up against her. She could feel his urgent need, and his breath was coming in gasps. She began to grind herself against him, feeling his strokes deeper and deeper as she moaned into his ear. She shivered, the warmth spreading from her vagina and nipples cascaded over her in waves, crashing through her and exploding in the back of her head. She flung herself down on his rippling penis and clung to him as the waves of pleasure made her whole body tremble. She clenched her muscles around him, feeling his climax as he grunted over her shoulder. His hands grabbed her ass roughly, pushing her down on his lap as he came. She felt him pulsing inside, the image of his semen spraying deep inside her caused her whole body to tremble, a mini orgasm fluttered through her in the wake of the first. They lay together for several minutes, catching their breath. Rolling off of him, she felt their joined fluids running down her thighs and pooling on the couch against her ass. She ran a hand over his sweat soaked shirt, murmuring appreciatively into his ear. Resting her head on his shoulder, she checked her watch. Twenty minutes, on the nose. The heater sputtered and came to life, followed quickly by the bluish light from the TV. Shouts of joy and revelry came from other apartments, and stereos began blasting party music once more. James looked at her wild-eyed and confused, but she shushed him with a finger. "Right on time!" *********************************************************** -- If you enjoyed this work, take a moment to email the author. Your comments are their only payment. 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