Message-ID: <25434asstr$964260601@assm.asstr-mirror.org> From: "seanfarragher" X-Original-Message-ID: MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-Priority: 3 (Normal) X-MSMail-Priority: Normal Importance: Normal X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V5.50.4133.2400 Subject: {ASSM} From TxM6 Angela Again MFM Date: Sat, 22 Jul 2000 06:10:01 -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: english, dennyw From TxM6 Taxi Murders Sextet Hyperfiction Novel http://www.taximurders.com/enfer TxM6 is entirely a work of fiction for adults only. Copyright (c) 2000 Sean Farragher Angela's Diary: 2/11/1993 More About Henry/Aaron 0984Xjhw0314Xlaurie Tampons, slits, and cock rings. Henry is a fifty-year-old Viet Vet who suffers deathly dreams. Aaron is a tender man and sophisticated artist. Nothing about them is fake. They fuck as they talk. Amazing happenstance that I met them both, and grew up with them, having two teachers, not just one. Adults need teachers too. Aaron is patient waits while I fuck Henry, and will be slightly jealous, and will bang my ass well tonight long after Henry has left or fallen asleep. Henry wants me alone, will steal my soul from his buddy, but would protect Aaron to his death. I believe he would die for him. I can already feel how both will penetrate my flower, opening the outer lips with their thick thumbs to find the places in my ass and cunt at the same time where they can bend me into multiple pieces, so the stars will be more than white, as I lift myself on both and wallow in their plugs of sex and dirty words. Aaron is so cute when he curses, almost loving it, but not feeling comfortable. Henry curses when he is being ordinary. He does make me shake as I come. When he says, bitch get your ass here, and pulls me there, and takes me so hard, I run to Aaron for gentleness but what I remember is Henry deep penetration, thick running cock, and his hands which possess my nipples like they are not mine, but his to finger and expose, especially when I am filled with milk. "Angela, Let me watch you fuck them," Christ Tina said. "I want to bless your orgasm with my own at the same time. I will put my hand on your heart and feel it as you beat each other off and to life not death." "You know he hates it when I fuck you when he's not there," Angela told Henry opening his mouth to swallow him deeper. "Never says anything, but when I tell him, as Laurie and I will, in the same breath, as one voice, that we love him more. I know you won't mind that Henry. He's not jealous. Hard to imagine Aaron not following his script. That one about life he keeps in his hands protecting himself from our evil. The voices, doubled laughed in a two part harmony. "The question is, dear one, Angela said speaking with the ghost of Laurie quite visible and wise): does he want us or you?" "You, of course, b" Henry said. "You are a good actor, Henry, Angela smiled, kissing Henry good-bye, gathering up her slight clothes, and racing to the bathroom door, "I love you aussi Henry, Angela spoke without pretense- a great actress smiled backward through the door into the mirror. Henry watched Angela dress, pulling her slight shirt over her neck, her breasts pausing to be covered, and then invisible, as Angela, no it was Angela shifting her eyes, smiled at Henry, pulling up the shorts. Then, with one leg up on the bathtub, Angela brashly inserted a tampon, turning to allow Henry the best perspective. Sweet heart, the curse always comes at the worst or best times. Felt cramps. Knew it was coming. Ten days from now. We will make love, and no underpants, she thought Get me some underpants, Henry? Bring em to me. I love showing off, don't I"? Opening one of the drawers, Henry looked at the scattered underpants. What color? No Answer. White. Perfect, Henry thought, as he shuffled the garments, finally picked out one, and brought it across the room to Angela who was sitting on the toilet with the top down waiting. "Thanks." I put them on. Small. Brief. They would barely cover my ass. "They're the old ones. Really too small, and full of holes." See. Angela poked through an obvious hole in the crotch. Handy one, honey," and Angela put them on holding on to Henry's arm for balance. "They're perfect," Henry, laughed," and he kissed Angela, fingering her sex, gently tugging at the tampon string again through the underpants. "You know I love strings," he said. "You mean you love to pull strings, making a half hearted attempt to stop Henry from pulling the tampon out. "Don't, please. It's my last. You'll have to go right to the store like a good husband and get more." Henry had already pulled it out, he's lifting it like the host, Angela thought. "But me is not your husband, darling. I can pretend. OK. "It's hardly pink, and let me suck it off." Henry licked it slowly like ice cream. Smelled it. "Taste like come, blood, and fucking, Henry said" "Your sex darling. Just you, today at." Henry brushed Angela's cheek softly, gracefully. Henry laughed with Angela as a subtle roll of bliss fixed on them as if Henry's audacious act of sucking a bloody tampon was as ordinary as a morning kiss. Henry took Angela to their summit, letting her go, and then falling back suddenly, as if a gasp rolled down the inside of their thighs. "Aren't we the fancy couple, so perverse, scatological mayhem, indeed, now," Angela spoke, softly playing with Henry's half hard, then fully erect cock as if it were that Noir she remembered at the barn. Getting him ready, she thought. For what. Dinner. How terrible and funny, she gasped. Yes, like the death Henry described as Vietnam, Angela thought. All entwined, as a miracle of faith and grace. Clasped in one. "You are naked when you are clothed," Henry said, as he held Angela's nether cheek with one hand, and played with her lips with the other. "You fuck," Henry whispered, softly, speaking to himself. I didn't really hear while Henry continued to caress. How I wish he would fall down and suck. Play with my ass, yes, and I, spontaneously, swallowed, as Henry's fingers softly rustled from my inner knee to deeper inside my mouth, then clutching my feet, rubbing the base of all of my toes at once, massaging the bones, as if each were a slight prick or a line up as I brushed his with my tongue to cancel it, at least pay some of the gifts. No one can cancel this protracted longing. Henry, pleased, blushed (not out of shyness but wonder). He knew life healed whatever ails. I would have liked to watch, he murmured, as he thought of his former lover, dead now six months. No, she's probably here, playing with Angela, helping us as spirit, Grace, Faith, Laurie, as mystery poured from her cunt, wet until my pants pulled up split the lips, feeling the texture as my shaved lips and become pubic pears when the winter as a last wall before orgasm makes the spring and the crocus grow wilder from the plane sex of the fecund earth. In Spring, the cock rings and crocus ride their own palms beating the mother, the earth into their own ground. Spring is the rebellion of the crocus wrestling with the ground. Henry spoke the line into Laurie's mind, and Angela heard and putting the cock ring on Henry, who stuck out, almost too far, she made sure he had enough for both of them. It didn't matter that there was only one cunt and two minds. Aaron watched Angela prepare for Henry. He seemed almost too calm, but at the last moment, he stopped her, saying easily, "tonight I want you. Henry can wait for second. His blue balls will make an interesting ornament on that Christmas tree you make perfect every year. "Here," Aaron said. "I will use Henry's cock ring for the stars at the top." "No," Angela said, "use my cunt still filled with Henry and you. What a present you both have become," Angela caught up in herself simply said, "I have both of you. Never going to share you. . . . God, I am sore with both of you, -- you know how it feels when you cannot fuck one more second, and you keep going knowing that the next orgasm will be as they say about surfing the ninth wave." "Here is my cock ring," Henry added. "Aaron where is yours, Henry asked?" "I don't need one, Henry. I can fuck all night with out any mechanical help, adding at the end with a smile in his voice, Henry, I give you permission to watch provided you never kiss me again old boy." I can still taste your worn skin and dirty sex. More American Adventures in erotica and other works by Sean Farragher: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Sean_Farragher/ Sean Farragher Poetry Site: http://www.farragher.com TxM6 Sites: http://www.taximurders.com http://www.taximurders.com/enfer http://www.taximurders.com/lcfallon http://www.taximurders.com/paradisio (forthcoming) -- 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. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+