Message-ID: <23630asstr$955451415@assm.asstr-mirror.org> From: "Steven Armstrong" X-Original-Message-ID: Mime-Version: 1.0 X-Sent-Mail: on Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Language: en Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Subject: {ASSM} THE LINDA TALES (Part 1/2 of Chapter 2/6) Date: Tue, 11 Apr 2000 07:10:15 -0400 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: dennyw, gill-bates, IceAltar Hello, fellow global literature lovers! Be warned: This story is a work of fiction that contains descriptions of explicit sexual acts between humans. If this type of content offends you, or you are under the age of 18, do not read it. It is posted for the entertainment of adults. If you are below the age of eighteen or are otherwise forbidden to read electronic erotic fiction in your locality, please delete this message now. The story codes in the subject line are intended to inform readers of possible areas that some might find yukky, but the author makes no guarantees. You should be aware that the story might raise other matters that you find distasteful. Ecco: You read at your own risk. Disclaimer: All the standard rules apply. If you are offended by explicit descriptions of sex or the human body, if it is illegal to possess such materials at your location, if you are under-age by law in your location, or if somebody else thinks you might feel too.... - stop right now and remove this text from your computer. This is purely a work of fiction, with all characters and actions described by me coming straight out of my imagination. As a work of fiction, it does not condone or condemn any of the activities or actions described, nor does it relate to any type of real events in my life, or known to me in the lives of any of my friends or relatives. Unfortunately. You have been properly warned. I give permission for anyone to share or archive this story. The story have been written by the person posting them. If you liked the story, drop the author a line at the e-mail address below. ******************************************************** THE LINDA TALES (Part 1/2 of Chapter 2/6) THE WINDING ROAD AROUND THE BEND, AND THE FIRST WOMAN WAITING THERE (M/f/F) What are your standards for what constitutes truly stunning love- making? I can tell you flat out that that first hour with Linda went far beyond anything I had done before. Or dreamed of. Not only the carnal acts in themselves, even though they were very very satisfying indeed. But there was also a certain quality to them, an edge. That girl was just so innocent, and still so intoxicatingly sexy! And we had some sort of contact. Linda! I could not get her out of my mind. Her birth certificate might have said 14, but her mind was far older. And while her body was very fresh, it was so mature anyway. But that number hypnotised me. I mean, cheating on Christina was bad enough, but Jesus, with a 14 your-old? Making love might have been OK to us, but it certainly was not OK to society. Her parents, her teachers, her friends would want to crucify me. Even my friends would lend a hand! My memory also kept bugging me about when we got back to school. In the would-be ball room, the preparations were still in full swing even though many people had in fact gone home. Nobody seemed to have missed us much, except this hag with suspiscious eyes, a councellor lady something. (In another setting, I certainly would not have named that pudding for a hag!) And then we had to finish the work; back to the nooks, bending and stretching with (for me at least) protesting muscles. We were very professional now; Linda almost prissy, she was definitely in control of her bumping now. There wasn4t any. Still it felt like being on stage, I was glad to be done by 7 o4clock. When I left, Linda was quite indifferent; a casual Bye. But the hag came up to me and said something about her (the hag lady herself) surely being there go great me when I came back for my gear, Thank you, Mr Armstrong! Now what the hell what that supposed to mean? Cold feet I said, and cold feet I meant. GOD! For the next days I was torn by mixed feelings: burning shame, lust for seeing Linda again, fright of getting exposed... I even fretted over that school dance. Had any of those snotty squirts laid hands on hear? One of the teachers? Did she scorch her pussy hair with the football team? (I mean, it wasn't called "ball" for nothing.) This was getting sick! I could hardly eat or sleep. Christina began to look funny at me, seemingly not at all appreciating that little paunch shrinking. Christmas and all. One day between Christmas and New Year, Linda called my office. She was in a good mood, laughing and joking about people behaving silly at the ball and the success of the new sound system. Her voice sent thrills up my spine. Then she asked me if she could help me to re- assemble the equipment? Maybe right now? I made lame excuses, and said I had arranged to come in on the evening next day (which was true) and do it alone. She soon finished the call. I felt like a complete coward! The next day, must have been the 30th, there was this e-mail in my mailbox. Just an empty letter, with two files attached. I couldn4t recognise the address; just a common anonymous mail-service. I clicked up one of the files, and my imaging programme started. I nearly had a heart attack! On the picture there was Linda, sitting alone on a park bench! She was wearing a smug little happy smile, roses on her cheeks, a neat white blouse, a lightblue skirt, white socks over sandals. The only thing odd was her hiking the skirt up to reveal those long shapely brown legs, and that perfect god-given fat little black- haired cunt! The contrast to her innocence was startling. I literally gasped. What on earth was this? The next picture file was even more shocking. It was Linda allright (though I wasn4t sure at first). Lying on a bed, naked, shining with sweat, her hair soaked from top to bottom, the sheets in a mess and as wet. She had the right middle finger in her cunt but the hand was blurry from motion. The left hand pinched her left nipple, pulling it out in that familiar way. Her eye-lids were half closed, eyes glazed. Her features were heavy, laboured, serious; totally gone. The whole little girl looked puffed up and flushed and swollen. Not only her erogenous zones, which where positively sissling. Somehow I got an impression of her being alone. In fact, she looked as if entering the fourth hour of freaking out on herself on a real fly-ride Ritaline and hash high. Who took the picture? I was pondering the pictures that whole day, trying to make some sense out of the whole affairs. A lot of questions. Who had held the camera? Was that really Linda in the frames, those two contrasting images of apparent innocense and utmost lust? For whatever purpose? And (most alarming) who had sent them to me? Was it Linda? But I had not given her my phone number, much less the e-mail. I was getting very paranoid and even thought it might have been that councillor cutie, trying to implicate me in some weird trap game. - Which of course held no logic at all. Then there was the enormous erotic effect. Nothing I had ever seen in pictures or movies, nothing but holding the real thing (that is a live and hot woman), had made me as bone-hard as those pictures of Linda. Both of them were, in its own way, sexuality boiled down to the core. Together they were lethal! Evening came, after all that coffee and cigarettes. I had to return to Linda's school. A delayed recovery would only further throw suspicions on me, and besides, I needed my gear for a gig next day. The people renting the stuff would get mighty pissed if they missed out the music on their New Years Eve party! So I went there, feeling as if only propelled by about a million butterflies in my stomach. It was a real anti-climax. No Linda, no hag, nobody, but a bored junior janitor anxious to get back home to his tart likely, but not extremely willing to lend me a hand. So my work took its while. Must have been around 8 when I finally closed the back doors of the van, and entered the cabin. In the other seat, there was Linda. I yelped. "Linda, what the fuck!?" "Hello Steve", she said calmly, just sitting there with her hands clasped in her knee. "You trying to scare the shit out of me?" I got a little rude there, I admit. The events since I first met this little darling one had finally pushed me to the limit. I was not even sure if I ever wanted to see her again. Despite everything (and I have told you what everything meant). "Steve, you have to help me", Linda whispered. Helpless like. "Are you in trouble?" My heart began to melt. "Yes. And so are you!" Her face a little tilted, giving her eyes a new slant. Sad, but trusting. "Are you talking of those pictures?" I demanded. But she would not admit to this. She knew nothing of any pictures. "Do you remember Ms Appleton? The councillor at school?" she asked. "Don4t I! I4ve been waiting all of Christmas for her to start some trouble. She knew, I can tell you. She knew exactly what we had been up to... well maybe not exactly." I chuckled. She smiled for the first time, but her eyes where still grave. I looked back deep into those black wells. That was dangerous. And then she took my hand. "I4m afraid you are right. She does know it all, basically. Though of course not exactly how you ate me, you animal! Or how un-ladylike I behaved in turn." This with a naughty twist on her lips. The magic began to work on me again. I couldn4t help but laugh. "So what is happening?" "She phoned. At home, can you believe it? She said she wanted to discuss about my actions before the ball. That means us! What else? She wants me to come around to her place tonight, 'for a talk', as she put it". "So can4t you tell her some fib? Or apologise, or whatever it takes. Just make her forget it?" "I think there is only one way. We have to seduce her". She looked more like a cat than ever. Extremely dignified. "Whaaatt!!!" "Steve, there is just no other way. She seemed so determined. And if I go down, you go down. You know the score. Or my age, rather." "Well I didn4t at first. But I sure do now. Are you threatening me?" I said curtly. "Never! I love you! But she is! But if we can implicate her... If we fuck her, we4re safe!" Her voiced trailed off. "But Linda..." "There is this girl at school, Marion, who once hinted that Appleton made a pass on her... I just don4t know. It might be true. Many people get into these school positions just to meet young people; you know where they are in power? All I can tell is, when I spent an hour with her last semester, going over my syllabus, she kept crossing and un-crossing her legs about once a minute. And I can swear she gave her cunt a little extra rub each time. She4s a horny bitch! Her tits stuck out so bad. She kept poking at them with her pencil. Thought I didn4t see it. At least, I think." "But even so..." "I think she4s somehow jealous. That bitch! I4m gonna give her more than she asked for, and with a vengeance at that!" The intensity of her emotions struck out like a bolt from a thunder cloud. "But I can4t let you get through that just to get me off the hook. Linda, think about it!" "I have. I did all night. And actually I think it will be fun. I will fuck her. And love it. " Her eyes sparkled. "Let4s do it together." And then she explained what she had in mind. I was spellbound. And I wanted desperately to fuck her again; not later, now! But there was no time. When we went to my office to unload the stuff, we both looked sadly at the couch. Then she looked up at me, and licked her lips. And laughed. I felt almost sorry for Ms Councillor Bitch Appleton. Was she going to get a mouthful! Or vice versa. When we finally rang the bell at Ms Appleton's house, the area seemed very quiet. No cars moving about, but of course the Christmas decorations were everywhere. The light was warm and reddish from her windows. She opened the door. Ms Appleton. About 35 years of age. Blondish, her hair cut page-style. A very nice body indeed. She was dressed in a black and yellow work-out spandex. The spandex streching over her breasts, over a nice ass (she looked like a sexy hornet). A threat against all of the things in my life? There was no sign of this as she greeted us. "Linda? So you finally arrived! And Mr Armstrong with you!" she called out. "Come in!" Linda said: "Yes hello! We thought it best to come here both of us. As I explained, it would be much better than me coming by myself." I was surprised, but anyway, to ease the conversation (anything to get Ms Appleton in a better mood) I said friendly: "But do call me Steve." "Yes of course. Come in Linda and Steve! I4m Eve. " "I guess that since it is somewhat late, we better get on with it. Please follow me." Eve led us up a stair, into a comfortably furnished sitting room, with couches and sofas before a TV-screen. She sat down on one of the couches. "Is this a good place?" "Ms Appleton... Eve?" "...That4s allright..." "Steve and me have discussed this situation. As you know, we are together know, so we came here together to get the best results for you." "OK? Yes?" Linda had told me to play it by ear. But she seemed very confident indeed on her own. What the fuck was she hinting at now? "So we decided to do the whole thing together. For me to learn as well. I hope you don4t mind?" Eve said: "No-no, I am sure that is for the best..." Linda: "And anyway, originally this method was developed for two performers. In old India, you know? But it works as well with one really trained person..." (Me: ???) "...so if you please, lie down on that broad couch. On the back." Eve did. All the length of that beautiful body contained in spandex wrapping. On that couch. On the back. Linda continued: "Now, as part of my training, Steve has told me to be in command. Does that bother you?" "No, not at all. Command away," Eve said in a slight voice, and smiled. "Well then, first you have to relax. Really relax. Let all of your muscles rest deeply, deeply and thoroughly." I saw Eve ease back on the couch, closing her eyes. The lump in my throat wasn4t getting any smaller. There was no animosity whatsoever in Eve. Not not me, not to Linda? What was happening here? "Now, as the first step, we are going to make you aware of your body. Or rather making the body aware of itself. By relaxing it. The whole of it. The whole of you. If it makes you feel bad, tell us immediately. We are here only to please you. To help you." "I will", Eve said, with a small tremble. "The tensions you have felt lately may be situated in certain body parts, other areas than where your hurt is manifest. Therefore, we will use the prescribed scheme, the ordered route, and then finally end up taking those tensions away..." Linda droned on amiably. "Yeees..." Eve sounded sleepy, her eyes still closed. Linda nodded to me, a clear direction. I was to take the upper half. She was going down. Time for me to do something. I sat down behind Eve. "Lift up a little dear. Lean back in my lap" I said. She responded without comment, her head leaning trustfully on my chest. I would have full reach of her body down to her cunt. Linda sat down facing me and Eve, straddling the couch by Eve's feet, then lifting her legs and placing them over her own thighs. Facing Eve4s face. Facing Eve4s cunt! "Uhhuh", Eve emitted a little grunt, clearly feeling a little awkward now, her face reddening. The pussy made a great bulge between her wide open legs; her every fold was clearly visible to the both of us, the outline of an expanding clitoris. Eve cleared her throat nervously again, and I think it was only about now she fully realised what position she had actually put herself in. So to speak. "Now we start" whispered Linda. Ms Appleton was left to our mercy. - End of Part 2 a - (To Be Continued...) Send comments to: steve.armstrong@england.com "The Linda Tales" is my first try at creating recreational erotic literature. Please give me feedback, be it good or bad, on e-mail. Give your first name and age, as an indicator how to better judge your comments. Welcome are also comments on language. (A rather eclectic use of terms and idiomas from different parts of the world.) Your efforts may help to improve the continuation of this series, if it comes along. Thanks, and hopefully, enjoy! Steve Armstrong __________________________________________________________________ Get your own free England E-mail address at http://www.england.com -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+