Message-ID: <29078asstr$983095804@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Message-ID: <01e901c09e99$f7420da0$e102fc3e@enterprise> Reply-To: "Hecate" From: "Hecate" X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V5.50.4133.2400 Subject: {ASSM} <2ndS> The Server by Generic Joe (MF) Date: Sun, 25 Feb 2001 05:10:04 -0500 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: assm-admin <1st attachment, "The Server by Generic Joe.txt" begin> The Server (MF) by GenericJoe He stood at the doorway to the bedroom, a sheaf of papers in his hands. He must have been frustrated because he was gripping them tightly in his hand, crumpling the paper. "What's up, hon?" I asked him. "You look upset." "It's this story," he said. "The one for ASSTR's new server opening." "'The Server', you mean?" "Yeah. I thought I had an idea, but it didn't quite work. Then I tried some other things, and, well, it's just not working." I put down the Anita Blake novel I was reading, making sure I bookmarked my place. He walked over to me, and lay down on his side of the bed, still clutching the printouts. I turned over, and rubbed my hand over his T-shirt, and down over the cotton shorts he was wearing. He must have been stressed out, because he just shut his eyes and sighed. "Joe," I said, in my softest voice, "I *know* you can do this. You're a good writer." "I know..." he sighed, dissembling. There was still something wrong. "What is it?" I asked him, drawing him out. He took another deep breath. "It's the deadline. This story here (and he pointed to one of the pieces of paper he was holding) is probably going to be half decent. I'm jut not going to finish it in time for you to proofread i t and post it on Saturday. Before Saturday, really, since the server's going to be down then." "Well, why not?" "It's just too complicated. It's more than six pages long, and I'm only 3 into it..." He shut his eyes, and I just put my hand on his chest, feeling his heart beat through the fabric. "Well, why don't you tell me what you've got so far. Read some of it to me. What's this one?" I asked, pointing to the one he thought would be 'good'. "This one is a sequel to Rollover, the one I wrote for New Year's last year. It was the first idea that popped into my head, you know? That Ram and Jeanine would have problems because she'd be installing a server. Very close to reality, since that's what ASSTR is doing." I nodded politely, it wasn't the first thing *I* would have thought of with a story with the title "The Server," but then I'm not the one doing the writing. Or as geeky as my boyfriend, either. "So, read it to me, or parts of it anyway." "Well, it starts out with Ram moving into Jeanie's house, and he's not happy about moving, but he's willing to do it for Jeanie." His eyes scanned the paper, looking for somewhere to start, "It's first person, from Ram's point of view: And, no matter how much I hate moving, I'm coming to realize I love Jeanie more. We've got something special, something rare. Common interests, yes, but common outlooks too. And we enjoy just being together. And that's something about us -- we just fit together, like two interfaces purposefully designed to mesh. "'Two interfaces purposefully designed to mesh'?" I asked. "Are you serious?" "That's the way Ram talks. He's a serious geek." "Unlike you," I said, teasingly. "Way more geeky than me," Joe said, defensively. "Right. What do they do when they get done moving?" "Well, Jeanine sets up the computer network." "Can't live without the computers online." "Right. Always the first thing *I* set up when we move." "Are you sure you're less geeky than these characters?" He just glared at me, and raised his eyebrow in that way he does when I know I'm getting close to irritating him. He's not really mad, or anything, just building up points. I deduct them for his puns, so it sort of works out, in the long run. "Anyway," I continued. "This is a sex story, do they ever have sex?" "Oh, yeah." "Well, read that part!" I slid my hand up under his shirt, and started playing with his chest hair. He put one hand around me, and started rubbing my back. He flipped a page over, and said, "OK, here. Ram gets out of the shower, and finds Jeanie on the bed naked--" Joe paused then and looked at me. Did I mention I was also naked? I was already ready for bed, so, well, I didn't have any clothes on. Who wears pajamas? "Ram finds Jeanie naked on the bed. That's always a good place to start," I said, and ran my leg up and down his. "Um, yeah... They banter a bit, and then Ram asks her 'Did you get the network up?' "Then he feels her hand wrap around his cock, and she says, 'I think I got something up.' She smiles at him, and -- she's being coy here," Joe said. "I figured that out." "Ram says to her, 'Be careful, now, that's not a toy!' "And she replies, 'But, does that mean I can't play with it?\rquote Then she sits up, and slides her mouth down the length of his cock." I took that opportunity to run my hand over Joe's crotch, to see what sort of reaction he was getting. Not much, but there was a bit of a stir. More, once I touched him. "What does he do then?" I asked. "Not much. He's kind of blissed out for a minute." "Oh, so not like you, then." "I told you he was geekier than I was." I just laughed. "And then what happens?" "Then Jeanie demands payment for setting up the network -- after all, it's what she does at work, you know." "And what does she want, exactly?" He began reading again. She patted the bed between her legs, and lay back down. I climbed onto the bed, and slid in place between her legs. I grabbed a condom, and rolled it on. "Was this what the lady had in mind?" I asked. Her hand had slid down to her slit, and she started fingering herself, spreading her lips for me. "Something like that." He paused and looked at me. "Don't hold me in suspense, Joe." He chuckled, and read. I slid again into her wetness, looking deep into her eyes. Home, again, in her -- in her arms, between her legs, inside her. Home. And now this place, here was my home, as well. I looked down into her watery grey eyes, and she stared right back at me. Her hands came up to my chest and touched me, as I continued to slide in and out of her. I put my hands to the side of her head, entwining my fingers in her hair. Joe was beginning to respond, but then, my hand tightening and loosening on his cock -- even if it was through stupid shorts -- had something to do with that. "Then," he said, "she tells him he makes her happy, and he tells her he loves her, and they make love." "Read that part to me." "Which part?" "The part where they make love." "I didn't write that part." "Why not?" "It just didn't seem right. It spoiled the tenderness of the moment. Anyway the hot scene comes later in the story." "Oh, well, read that to me." I needed to hear something pretty hot, now." "I haven't written that yet." "Why not?!" "I got stuck." "Ok, ok, what else do you have there?" I took my hand off his cock, and grabbed one of the pages. "Well, I looked up 'server' on dictionary.com, to see what kind of meanings it has, you know. Besides the computer sense. Just to see if I could get some inspiration." I looked at the page I was holding. Only a few paragraphs long, at the top, "The Server by GenericJoe". I read aloud from the story, The first thing I noticed about her was her long legs, and the way they stretched when she jumped. Oh, I saw her before then, I was there to cover the tournament. I'd seen her when her name had been called, and when she'd walked out on to the court, ready to play. But I really noticed her the first time I saw her serve. She leapt into the air, her short little tennis skirt, flying into the air, exposing her panty-covered ass, and revealing just how long her toned, long legs were. I could just picture her. Her skirt, pushed up around her waist, and her panties pulled off. And those legs, those legs, bent back and up, or wrapped around my back, as I drove my cock into her petite frame. And that was when I lost complete track of the tennis tournament. I looked at him. No, I stared at him. "Tennis?" I said. "That's why it's only two paragraphs long," he said. "OK, I'll give you that." But then, I could see it too, a young woman, barely 18, short tennis skirt, pushed up around her midriff, below me, looking up at me with lust in her eyes. I slid my hand down to my crotch and began to rub. I was already getting wet, and these were snippets. Joe smiled at me. "It's nice to have an effect." "What else do you have in there?" "Well, there's this: James slowly drank his coffee as he watch Kathleen hustle about. She looked busy, harried and tired, and had since she'd walked up to his table, and told him that she would be his server for the evening. He'd looked her over then, her long legs -- displayed by the restaurant's short skirt uniform -- were encased in lovely black stockings with a seam up the back. Her shirt, a man's white button-down shirt was tucked into the skirt, and was unbuttoned down to the third button, showing quite a bit of her ample cleavage. The stocking seams would have been enough to catch his attention, and so would the cleavage. But there was just something in her voice, something harried and desperate in the way she'd talked to him. Sultry and seductive. She slowed down when she passed his table, and took a little longer with him than her other customers She was interested in him, and he was interested in her. She'd stared at him, and sized him up as well. Her eyes and flashed when he'd ordered the most expensive entree, even after having an appetizer and salad. He could see the wheels turning in her mind. Calculating the tip, and maybe something more. Kathleen ran her tongue over her lips as he asked, again, to get a refill on his tea. There had been a hint of happy smile when he'd asked her what her favorite dessert was, and then he'd ordered it and some coffee. She still stopped by his table, and chatted -- even though he was busy and not buying anything more, just getting refills on his coffee like he had been for the past two hours. James had every intent of waiting there, waiting for her until her shift ended. Of taking her home with him after, and relieving her tension. He would roll down those silk stockings, unbutton that white blouse, and he would ravage the woman inside. He just had to wait, and drink some more coffee. "That's where that one ends, too," he said. "Why did you stop?" "Oh, I don't know. He felt like a stalker or something." "He sounded like someone with the kinds of plans I could get into." I let him know what kinds of plans those were, by sliding my hand up the leg of his shorts, and firmly grasping his now-rigid cock with my hand. "Good plans," I said, giving him a squeeze. "But that's it," he said. "It doesn't *go* anywhere. I'm just spinning my wheels." "I can see stories here, Joe..." He just shook his head. "Ok, then, what else do you have?" "That's it." "That's *it*? That's all you cold think of?" I poked his head. "Who are you and what did you do with my boyfriend?" "I told you I was stumped, I even went to the dictionary." He sighed, and I realized I'd been hard on him. I didn't know what was causing his block, but I had an idea of how to remind him. "I'm surprised at you, Joe," I said. "After all those good bdsm stories you write, even the one for me. How could you forget the kind of serving someone can do for another." He was still looking at me a bit blankly. I had to wonder how much pressure this deadline was putting him under. Or maybe it was just too much going on at work. I decided that either way, he could use some stress release. I reached under his T-shirt again, and pulled it up. "Let me undress you," I said. "Let *me* serve *you*." He lifted his arms, and I slid the shirt off of him. I ran my hands through his chest hair, and lowered my mouth to his nipples, licking them, then nipping at them with my teeth. He drew in a quick gasp of air, and let me know that I'd found a sensitive spot. I slid up his body, and kissed his neck, and ears, and could feel him shivering under me, caught in his desire. We kissed then, our tongues fencing, thrusting and parrying at one another. Then I kissed down his body, chest, stomach, belly button. Then I noticed that his shorts were still in the way. Grinning up at him, I hooked my fingers under the waistband of the shorts, and pulled them down. He lifted up off the bed enough for me to get them down to his knees, then I pulled them all the way off. In the process his cock had sprung free, and was standing there, wobbling back and forth. I lowered my lips to the very edge of his cock, and looked up at him. "Just relax," I said. "Lie back and enjoy. This I do for you. To serve *you*." He closed his eyes, and it was like the tension began to melt out of him. I lowered my mouth over his cock, taking it in. I ran my tongue over his slit, tasting his precum, savoring it for a moment. Then I brought h is whole cock into my mouth, sucking on it, running my tongue over it, under the head. He moaned and sighed as my head bobbed up and down over him. I love this kind of control. Yes, I was "serving" him, but I was the one with the real power here. He was just receiving what *I* created. Plus, I wasn't so lost in what I was doing that I couldn't see the effect I was having. He was getting really excited, his moans and sighs were increasing, then he bucked his hips, thrusting his cock deeper in my mouth. I pulled up, off of him, and he let out a deep breath. "You relax," I said, smiling. "I will do the work, OK?" "OK," he said, sighing. "I'll try and be still. You don't know how hard it is." "Yes I do," I said, and I grabbed his cock with one hand, and started jacking it off in my mouth. "I understand *exactly* how hard it is." He tilted his head back, and let out a long deep sigh. His eyes must have rolled back into his head, I couldn't even make out the irises anymore. I laughed to myself, and wrapped my lips around his cock again. It wasn't long before he was thrusting into my mouth again. I stopped again, wrapping my fist around his cock. He thrust into it for a minute and then stopped. "Relax," I said again. And once again lowered my lips to h is cock. I took his balls in my other hand, and started playing with them gently, adding to the sensation. Judging by his renewed moans, I was successful. Then, again, he was thrusting into my mouth. I lifted off of him. "Are going to relax and let me serve you or not?" I asked him, a little forcefully. He gasped for a second. "Which one of us is serving the other?" he asked. "I'm serving you," I said. "I'm changing my order," he said. "Roll over." I rolled over and he grabbed my ankles, liftin g them up, spreading them wide. I held them there, as he spread my wet pussy lips with his hands, and thrust his cock deep inside me. He leaned over, and grabbed my arms, holding me down, and thrusting hard and deep into my cunt. That's when I started coming, and kept coming as he kept on thrusting. He kept at it for what seemed like forever, and then finally, he shouted out in release. I felt his cum inside me, filling up my cunt. Then he flopped down on the bed next to me. "That was nice," he said. "Yeah," I said, not completely coherent. I rolled on my side, and he cuddled up to me, spoon fashion. I turned off the light, and we lay there in the dark. "I think I know what to write now," he said. "I hope you read it to me in bed." "I'll read to you in bed, anytime," he said. I could hear a smile on his voice. "I hope you write really fast, then. You're going to need a lot of material." "If not, I know where I can get a lot." "Oh yeah?" I asked him. "Yeah," he said, laughing. I smiled too, as we drifted off to sleep. <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. The post was sent as an email attachment and has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software. ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ ------- ASSM Moderation System Notice-------- This post has been reformatted by the ASSM Moderation Team due to inadequate formatting. -- 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. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+