Message-ID: <26888asstr$971716203@assm.asstr-mirror.org> From: lordshon@aol.com (Shon Richards) X-Original-Message-ID: <20001016080751.04221.00000661@ng-fq1.aol.com> Subject: {ASSM} Ticking {Shon Richards} {M/F, Very Short} Date: Mon, 16 Oct 2000 13:10:03 -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, newsman This story is copyrighted by me, Shon Richards. Please send me any comments you feel generous to share at lordshon@aol.com "Ticking" By Shon Richards "Keep going," she gasped when I stopped momentarily. The rain outside had picked up and I had paused as a Stevie Nicks line came into my memory. "All right," I responded, shifting my hips as her sex gripped my manhood. Her legs were firm around me, a lover's embrace that lied. The grip was strong, pressing wonderfully feminine thighs into my skin. Her heels kicked me gently in the back, demanding. Our hips meet in the darkness and the bed creaked again with our steady rhythm. The creaking of the bed reminded me of the ticks of a clock and that reminded me of the approaching deadline. My mind was everywhere but on the beautiful woman under me, which was typical of our lovemaking. Melissa took ages to relax, ages to enjoy herself and even more ages to finally climax. I had learned long ago how to hold off in bed but Melissa never seemed to want to know why it bothered me. Maybe that was part of our problem. My arms weakened and I lowered myself onto her temporarily. For once she didn't complain of the weight as my body crushed her breasts or when my face nuzzled in her endless curly brown locks. I moaned, like I always did no matter how angry I was with her. The smell of her hair just did that to me. Melissa's hair was so curly, so full of body, she despised it for how uncontrollable it was, but I loved it with all my being. My body happily rested as I sucked in the scent of her hair, drowning my mind as my body relaxed it's endless duty. "I'm closer," she whispered to my ear. "Don't stop." I heard the ticking again, this time from our hearts pounding together. Time was running out for us and I still had desires to fill and dreams to quench before I could ever sleep again. Lifting back up on weary arms, I resumed our collision of hips. Light came in from the street light through our window, distorted by the rain but still bathing Melissa in an orange glow. Her eyes were closed, fantasizing about whomever it takes to get through this night. I allowed her privacy by biting down my moans, watching her breasts sway from our thrusts. I loved to watch her breasts when we made love. They were large, the young would call them fat but I called them bountiful. They sagged and when she lay down they fell to the sides of her waist but when my cock moved inside of her, her breasts came alive. The small nipples would harden almost invisibly but I saw them. Melissa's breasts oscillated with each thrust, moving with more passion than her hips ever did. Tonight they were bouncing into each other with a fleshy clap that counted down our last fevered seconds together Melissa shuddered once, and her hands sprang to my hips to stop me. "Quit," she spat between shudders. Once again, she silenced her long awaited orgasm. It was cruel, but why change now? Melissa had her reasons for denying the theatrics I craved this night. I rose to my knees, my cock leaving her sex loudly. Next came her apology, like it always did, as she silently rose and got on her hands and knees on the bed. She lifted my cock with her tongue and sucked me in, moaning with me as I entered her mouth. Her moans were false, an act that always spawned moans from me. Tonight was no exception as I felt her nose bury itself in my pubic hair and my balls rest on her chin. Just as she had used me for my apartment for one more month, I used her mouth for one last orgasm. We were so young and stupid. We thought we could do this trade; giving what each of us needed and not let it get personal. We were wrong, and I never realized how wrong we were until I held her lovely dark hair in my hands and begged her to stay that morning. She said "No," and that was that. So I emptied myself one last time. One last exchange of fluids for rent to this cold- hearted, greedy, selfish, evil, bitch that would leave me when I had fallen in love with her. When my orgasm came eagerly up my cock I gripped her hair roughly, half with need and half with sheer longing. I fucked her mouth one last time as I climaxed, my balls tapping out the final seconds of our relationship against her chin. The end. "He doesn't interest me. God tolerates the intolerable. He is irresponsible and inconsistent. He is not a gentleman"- Don Jamie "The Fencing Master" by Arturo Perez-Reverte My stories are kept at http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/ShonRichards -- 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. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+