Message-ID: <29717asstr$986501404@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: From: Drmwvr5678@aol.com X-Original-Message-ID: <38.1467cd48.27fde740@aol.com> Content-Disposition: Inline Subject: {ASSM} Parental Discretion Is Advised(dark, MF) Date: Thu, 5 Apr 2001 16:10:04 -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, kelly Parental Discretion Is Advised (c)Belladonna 2001 He said, "I love you." But it wasn't to me. A word said too often loses its shape and crumbles in time. My hips are full, rounded with the lives I have borne. The morning talk show hints at hiding my life-giving body. He fucked her. Not me. Her. I wonder, did he open her legs wide and kneel over her, smiling down, a little wicked and sexy, while rubbing his thick penis against her exposed sex? Was she wet and musky, tight and sweet? Tell me, I need the torture. The class clown has lost her laughter and doesn't know where to find it. Leave it alone and it'll come home, dragging her smile behind it. "Red is your color," he said. I wore red tonight, but not for him. I sit alone, surrounded by people. I serve and help, wipe and scrub. I love each and every minute of my life. I hum with the melody of my music. I've grown older and softer. Maybe wiser. Yes, definitely wiser. I cradle my past, present and future, marveling at the miracles. And then the bough breaks. Down came lady, cradle and all. Knowledge is power, I preach, sensing my helplessness. I clamber for the edge of the pool, knowing the dread of being sucked under. He spends his time working, kissing and sharing. A late night, a romantic lunch. A grope in his car. She says "I'm sorry for your wife," as she wraps her greedy lips over his cock and sucks my trust away. It slips, my trust, and falls to the ground. Can all the King's horses ever put it together again? I wore red tonight. Not warm-hot red with a splash of russet creamed into the mixture, blending to a perfect festive red. No. I wore cold blue-burgundy red, thick merlot stained lips. An unforgiving ooze of maroon, copious crimson like the blood that has been leeched from my heart. Cherry-peach lips, ripe for a kiss, died away into these fleshy anemic folds of a non-smile. Unforgiving says the color. Dark says the mood. Vamp says the dress. So, I hide beneath the lifeless red and wait. The class clown huddles in the dark corner, wrapping her memories around her, and weeps. The spider creeps out the door. <1st attachment begin> <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------ -- 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. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+