Message-ID: <24166asstr$958543836@assm.asstr-mirror.org> From: "Malinov" MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1 X-Original-Message-ID: <3921A670.15732.A6B5C44@localhost> Priority: normal Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit X-MIME-Autoconverted: from Quoted-printable to 8bit by sara.asstr-mirror.org id UAA25683 Subject: {ASSM} On the Horns by Lord Malinov Date: Wed, 17 May 2000 02:10:36 -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: Lambchop, gill-bates On the Horns by Lord Malinov ~~~ The funny thing is that I met Tracy a long time before Alan did. She worked in my department at Falco a few years back, for about five months, starting in the summer. I didn't know her that well, but I certainly noticed her. She was the prettiest girl in the office. I was just getting serious with Elaine when Tracy started working. In fact, Tracy made me nervous. She was really pretty and she always smiled at me. I probably didn't handle it very well, when Tracy worked with me. She'd try to make small talk and I'd panic. She'd smile and I'd look away. I was just afraid. I had been so certain that I wanted to be with Elaine. I knew that flirting with Tracy would cause me in trouble. Maybe it would have been better if I'd given the thing I was building with Elaine a good shake. Maybe it would have fallen apart then, and I'd have saved us both some grief in the long run. Maybe we would have been more realistic and fixed whatever went wrong a long time ago. But that's water under the bridge. Maybe I'd be with Tracy now, maybe I could have pulled off her panties last night. Maybe she'd love me. Even though I was running away from her with my tail between my legs, I was sad when Tracy quit. I had to struggle to resist her temptation, but it was better than not being tempted. She would wear skirts that always made me stare at her lean legs, wishing the hem would creep a little higher. She could make even a simple blouse look provocative. Some of her shirts would dare me to sneak glances down the front. Others would just hug her boobs tight, leading me to imagine how they might look when she pulled the shirt off. Sometimes a gap would spread between buttons, exposing the lace of her pretty white brassiere. Then she would smile and say hello. I'd blush and scamper away. But she quit in the fall and I forgot all about her. Elaine and I were engaged the next summer, and we set the wedding for a year later, which would have been the Saturday after next. My lease ran out in June and I suggested we move in together, give the marriage a trial run. Elaine refused to even consider it. Alan was a friend of Paul's and he needed a roommate, so we took this place in Frisco. The rent's a little high, but the amenities are nice. He's been a decent roommate. Alan plays a dozen sports on as many teams, and so with the parties after the games, he wasn't home much at all. I liked that. Elaine spent lots of time at our place. Then one Tuesday night, I came home late from work. I dropped my briefcase by the door and went into the kitchen to fix a drink. I thought Alan was playing basketball or hockey that night. I heard a soft moan and peeked around the corner. Alan was kissing a girl on the sofa. Only the timing was surprising. When Alan was home, it was usually to kiss a girl. I retreated into the kitchen. "Hey, Brian," Alan said a moment later. "Yo," I answered. "Do you know Tracy?" he asked. "I don't think so, " I said and then walked into the front room to find Tracy smiling beside my big roommate. "Oh," was all I could add. "Hey, Brian," Tracy said. Her skirt had crept up high, exposing the silky sheen of pretty white panties between her lean thighs. My life has been a mess ever since that night. Alan brought girls home to kiss fairly regularly, but in the nine months we'd been living together, it was rarely the same girl twice. Tracy broke that pattern. Three, four nights a week, Tracy would be there. Saturday afternoon gave way to all weekend. Elaine met Tracy, once or twice, right at the beginning. I don't think she paid any attention to her, no more than she usually paid to any of Alan's "bimbos" as she bluntly called them. She didn't like Alan. Elaine had other things on her mind by that time. She was deciding to call off the wedding. It was a big deal. Not so much because it was hard to break up with me, but because her parents had already spent a fair amount of money in arranging the nuptial ceremonies. They fought. I gave up quickly. Elaine always made decisions seriously. When she did change her mind, I knew that was for good. A part of me was glad. I don't think I ever really wanted to be married. Not to Elaine, anyway. It just seemed like the thing to do. When we broke up, I felt lost but not really sad. I didn't know what to do next. I wasn't ready to meet other girls. I just stayed home. Slowly but surely, Tracy became a part of our household. I'd wake up and go to the kitchen. She'd be eating cereal at the table in a t-shirt and panties. Her hair would have a tangled knot in the back and her nipples would rise and fall under the cotton. We'd talk. I think she found me a pleasant change from Alan in that regard. He's not much of a talker. I'm not afraid of her anymore. She doesn't seem interested in me. Anyway, I've been thinking about her more and more. I look forward to talking to her, especially when Alan isn't around, if only for a few minutes. I'm always hoping for glimpses of her body and I've been rewarded. She's so casual, so immodest, so relaxed. Elaine was never relaxed about being naked. Of course, Tracy is Alan's girlfriend. I'm pretty sure he'd get violent if he thought I was after her. I was keeping my cool pretty well. Last night, I came home at like six and crashed. I hadn't slept much the night before last, working on this project, and then we ended up having to crank all day yesterday. I finally came home and just fell into bed. When I woke up, it was maybe one in the morning. I went into the hallway and heard Tracy giggling. There's a mirror by the front door, and I can see Tracy in the glass, dancing. I could see the back of Alan's head above the sofa. He reached over and started unbuttoning her shirt. Tracy laughed and then helped unfasten the buttons. She danced a little while in her bra and black skirt. Finally, she reached behind her back and unclasped the bra. I'd had hints, brief peeks, but her boobs were unbelievably beautiful, luscious and creamy, sensual and perfect. Large dark circles formed her nipples, and with each bounce of her dance the circle closed, tightening and pressing outward. A slight tan delineated the mounds from her chest, even in the dimly lit room. I wanted to kiss them. Tracy squeezed them in both hands and gave a low moan that made me ache inside. Alan said something I didn't hear. Tracy turned to wave her backside at him. Reaching to the side for a zipper, she shed the dark skirt, revealing a white triange of sheer cloth hardly covering her bottom. She moved gently, hypnotically, rhythmically swaying her ass. The elastic started to descend the wide curve. Alan reached over and Tracy bent as the panties slid down her long legs. My cock grew rigid in my hand. Tracy knelt down and sucked on his. I leaned back against the wall. Her head bobbed over his lap. He placed his hand on the back of her head and groaned. I bit my lip and stroked myself silently, slowly. I thought for a moment about kneeling behind her, pushing my cock inside her. My arousal grew uncontrollable. I kept myself from coming. All at once, they rose and headed for the bedroom. I dashed back into my room, carefully closing the door. I laid down on my bed. Soon the creaking of bedsprings started, fast and furious. Her moans tore through my heart. I have to leave. I must get away. Jerry has a cabin. I'll go live there. This can't go on. She isn't mine. It isn't fair. I knew her first. ~~~ On the Horns by Lord Malinov Power belongs to those who dare . . . Sapere Aude Power belongs to those who dare . . . Sapere aude -- 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. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+