Message-ID: <26963asstr$972155405@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-Message-ID: <20001021145803.94185.qmail@web10306.mail.yahoo.com> From: One Gallus Subject: {ASSM} Swede Ola Part 4 Date: Sat, 21 Oct 2000 15:10:05 -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: gill-bates, newsman Sorry about the legend at the close of part three: "End of Story" Neither that, nor this is the end. Gallus __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Yahoo! Messenger - Talk while you surf! It's FREE. http://im.yahoo.com/ <1st attachment, "Swede 4.txt" begin> {ASSM} Title: SWEDE OLA Part 4 Author: One Gallus, galluslong@yahoo.com (MF, Oral, Anal, Rom) Disclaimer Not to be read: by anyone under the age of 18 or if it violates the standards or laws of your community: or if adult erotica offends you. Not to be posted on any site, or changed, added to or used in any way without author's permission. SWEDE OLA Part 4 "I think I saw Niles," she said on Tuesday, two days later. Niles was her ex-husband. "What do you mean? He saw you?" I said. "I came out of the nursing home parking lot, and I think I saw his car swing in behind me." Ola, you were at the Nursing Home? You weren't going back there." "I know Charles, but I had to pick up my check," she said. "You should have let me, or someone else pick it up!" I said, quite annoyed. "No, they wouldn't release it to anyone but me. I had to." "Did you need it that badly?" I asked, still irritated. "Charles, it was over $700.00! Yes I had to have it!" She spoke harshly to me. It was the first time hard words were exchanged. I got up from my desk and went past her, and walked to the living room. I looked out a front window from behind venetian blinds. The way they were tilted, no one could see from the street. "What kind of car does he have?" "A maroon Buick Century, an old model, a 92 I think." "Nothing out there, maybe it wasn't him." "Maybe," she said. I looked at her, and two vertical lines were prominent in between her eyes. I shared her fear. There might be a man with a gun somewhere out there, with us in mind. Trying to ease the tension I said, "Sweetheart, I'm sorry, let's not invent problems. There are thousands of maroon Buicks out there." "At the Pecan Creek Nursing Home?" she asked, taking no false comfort. "You've got a point. Let's just keep our eyes open." I said. The bell beside Mother's bed began to jingle and Ola went to her. The rest of the day was uneventful and at 9:00 PM, the shadows closed in and by 9:20 it was dark. At midnight, she said, "He's on the graveyard shift up at the Jeep plant," she said, "He's never been one to lay off his job." If her posture was any indicator of her anxiety level, then it was low. The knowledge that Niles was at work must have given her some measure of comfort. She sat on the couch, her hips forward, her shoulders against the back, her legs straight before her, ankles crossed, barefoot. She was wearing a light robe again, a pink puffy one this time, untied. The thin gown was underneath. Across the room, I was slumped on the loveseat. The television had been on low so we could detect any strange sounds. I gazed at her, glad to see her normally placid face regain its pose. She turned her head toward me and caught me staring, and smiled. I returned the smile, and she held my eyes. Since that volatile Sunday night, when the sexual conflagration consumed us, we seemed contented to only tentatively touch and kiss. We had not slept in the same bed. Perhaps we were afraid of an anticlimax, for I had never before been so moved and so gratified sexually. If Ola had not been content since then, she never indicated it. She had seemed to be as sated as I was. Tonight her hair was swept and gathered at the back of her head. A "ponytail" almost seemed an irreverent expression. Her face showed an almost alien splendor. "You're beautiful," I said. "I'm the female hulk," she said. "That's what Niles called me." "He was blind." I said. "He said, and I quote: `Your ass would make three of mine.'" "I wish it were it my hands right now," I said. "His ass?" she smiled. I threw a throw cushion at her. She giggled. "Charles?" "What?" "You make me feel like a woman," she said. "You are a woman," I said. "He made me feel like a cow, lumbering through the house." The smile was gone. "You're a goddess," I said. The smile came back and she stared at me. After a long moment, she drew her feet back till they touched the couch, and parted them. Her big rounded knees spread open. Her thighs lay inside her gown like smoothed fallen columns, ending in a beautiful darkness somewhere. "Would you really like to hold it in your hands?" she asked. "What, his ass?" and she threw the pillow back at me. Ola then took the hem of her gown and pulled it up to her navel, and spread herself wide. "You know this is all yours, don't you?" She lay the flat of her palm in her pubic hair. The smoky curls spiraled out between her fingers. "You remember, I said I'd do anything for you, don't you? You realize that you can do anything to me you desire, don't you?" "Ola, when you say that to me.you know, any `thing?' Do you know what it does to me?" "What?" she asked. "Your whole being just runs together in my mind. As if you are one wonderful bundle, and I can't think of any one `thing.' All I can think of is you." "Lie down," she said. I tossed the throw cushion into the floor, slid off the loveseat, and lay my head on the cushion, and stretched out flat. Ola still sat, slouched on the couch, her hand on her pubis. "Shut your eyes," she said. "Don't open them till I tell you." I shut my eyes. "Put your hands up into the air," she said. I reached for the ceiling. Then I heard her heavy steps padding toward me. Movement took place over me, and my shoulders felt something touch them. I knew, in reason, she had straddled me. "Open your eyes, she said." I expected to see her pointed chin, her perfect teeth across her smiling mouth, her rosy, high cheekbones and her flashing blue eyes. What I saw, was what I said I wished to hold. Over two feet across, it was sheathed in the whitest skin I think I had ever seen. Not a freckle, not a mole, broke this vast symmetrical landscape. It's only feature was the long crevice that divided the hemispheres. I placed my palms lightly on both cheeks and grazed across the smoothness, letting my hands slide lightly over her to the extremity of her width. It was there that I pushed in from both sides, and kneaded the firm flesh that defined her hips. I took handfuls of her as I massaged down to the backs of her thighs, squeezing up to, but not over, the line of pain. Then I worked my way back toward the center, watching the opening and the closing of the cleavage as I alternately spread, and then repressed both buttocks. Through all of this mirrored groping with both hands, Ola was crooning with pleasure. She obviously loved the touching, and the even firmer grasping, and she complimented me with her affirmations of, "Yes, oh Charles, yes. Oh please, yes!" Of course, the most prominent foci to me were her two centers of sensitivity. They presented themselves each time I spread her wide. The smaller of these open cusps was surrounded by an ellipse of darker flesh, which elongated toward her vulva. It was precisely here that I licked. The few hairs that marked that trail were easy for my tongue to feel, and my lips to pull. I felt the press of her greatness against my mouth as I sucked, and I breathed in her aroma. My tongue flicked at what was to me the upper, and to her, the lower fold of her vaginal opening. Her fluids were afloat on my tongue and the wonderful grassy taste of woman came back to me after so many, many years. Ola adjusted the movement of her posterior to my ever-lengthening licks. When I licked toward her clitoris, I felt her busy fingers already at work. She had not deigned to take me into her mouth. Indeed, she could not, and sustain the increasing frenzy to which I was witness. However, she retained enough interest in my own pleasure to hesitate on her downward plunges, just short of her anus. She did not venture to bring its ring across my tongue. This was amusing to me, and made me love her sensitive spirit, though obviously she was lusting for my mouth on her ass hole. I risked breaking her pleasure by steadying the violence of her hips. "Wait darling, wait sweetheart," I said tenderly. She immediately froze, perhaps for fear she had assumed too much. Just at that moment, I spread her cheeks, firmed my tongue and plunged it into her anus, squirming it, and darting it around the muscled rim. When she felt it, she sobbed in guttural pleasure, "Oh God in heaven! Yes!" Between my tongue and her fingers, Ola lunged into another violent orgasm, bucking and grinding against my face as she had done against my penis two nights ago. As she stilled, I felt her cheek stroking against my erect penis. I thought she might finish me with her mouth, but then she reversed her direction and her broad face loomed over me. I felt the tender moist walls of her vagina slowly swallow me up until the hardness of our pelvic bones jabbed at each others hips. Then, by degrees, her heaviness pressed on me. She was eyeing me closely, measuring her decent as she sank. I could breath, I was not choking, but I was pressed. Then, this colossal two-hundred- pound, six-foot woman began a circular massage, using her whole body. I could feel my foreskin peeling back, shifting around inside of her, hot and naked inside her wetness. When I came, she covered my mouth with her own, consuming me with her tongue, her weight pressing the pleasure into every pore of my body. "Well, you finally got somebody to suck your ass, didn't you?" Niles said. <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. 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