Message-ID: <31034asstr$993305402@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: From: Desdmona22@aol.com X-Original-Message-ID: Subject: {ASSM} P2C: "From Dusk til Dawn" (MF Rom) by Desdmona Date: Sat, 23 Jun 2001 10:10:02 -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 This is my contribution to the P2C (why does that make me think it's some top secret military thing?) I think in life there are certain events that change our lives forever, becoming a parent tops the list. The following is a story with sexual content. If you're not suppose to read it, then don't, you might go blind. From Dusk Til Dawn By Desdmona Copyright 2001 Matthew Joseph McKnight lay flat on his back, his tiny little arms flaccid at his sides. An IV tube extended out of his severed umbilical cord, secured with clear tape and suture thread. His right foot, no bigger than the first joint of one of my fingers, was wrapped in beige tape. A glow of red beneath the tape illuminated his entire foot, causing it to appear transparent. The nurse said this was a monitor that measured the oxygen in his blood. She had pointed to a machine somewhere on the counter, but I hadn't seen where she was pointing. I was too busy looking at my son. He had three electrodes stuck to him that were only centimeters in diameter each, but together they almost covered his entire chest. They were connected to another machine that monitored his heart rate and breathing. And some how the IV in his belly monitored his blood pressure as it gave him a steady diet of glucose. He had a tube coming out of his mouth that connected him to a breathing machine. The nurse said the machine was doing all the breathing for him because his own lungs were still too immature. He had another tube inserted into his left nostril and a small stocking cap covering his head. I looked at him through the plastic box they called an isolette. According to the doctor, it would be his home for several weeks. I couldn't make out his features, really. I kind of thought his nose looked like my husband, Matt's. But his long, delicate fingers were surely from my side of the family. Piano playing fingers, my mom would say. I stared at every inch that wasn't covered in some sort of wrap or tube, looking for identifiable characteristics. Occasionally his little body would jerk and all I wanted to do was hold him. But the rules didn't permit it. He was too fragile, too sick, and too little. But soon, they promised. Even now wasn't soon enough. No one understood how much Matthew meant. No one understood how hard the decision was to have him. I wish Matt were here, he understood. But he had collapsed from exhaustion, and I'd sent him home to get some sleep. I looked around the room. There were thirty more isolettes just like Matthew's. A few other moms stared into their own plastic boxes. Yes, they understood how I felt. But that did nothing to ease my pain. I had decided to breastfeed, but he was too little. I was instructed to use a pump and save the breast milk in the freezer. They would feed it to Matthew through the tube that was going into his nose and down into his stomach. My son, my poor little baby, was hooked up to so many machines and so very tiny. I tried not to cry. Crying blurred my vision and all I wanted to do was look at him. I wanted him to know how much his daddy and I loved him. He was our precious gift. Trying to keep my voice very soft so as not to over-stimulate him (as the nurse had warned), I softly sang: "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are gray. You'll never know dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away." * * * "Maggie? Maggie-honey, can you hear me?" I was in a winter wonderland. Everything was white, not a dull white like old snow, but a fresh and clean, crystal white. Evergreens with heavily laden branches, like Christmas trees, dotted the landscape. There was a wall with a twinkle of glitter covering it. And a voice, a voice I recognized. What did it say? "Maggie?" The voice said my name. Why? What did it want? I didn't want to open my eyes. They were heavy. They were heavy like the branches of evergreens. I wanted to sleep. I wanted to sleep in my winter wonderland. Ouch! My stomach hurt. Why did my stomach hurt? "Maggie-sunshine. It's Matt." Oh! It's Matt. Shhh, honey, can't you see I'm in a wonderland? See how everything glitters? But my stomach hurts. Why does it hurt? It shouldn't hurt; the baby is there... Instinctively I grabbed my stomach. Ouch! The baby, Oh! Wait! Of course, the baby, that's right. The placenta had torn away from my uterus, an emergency C-section. I'd already had the baby. My eyes popped open. "The baby?" My voice was raspy and my throat was dry. "He's alive Maggie. He's a boy!" Matt answered. I tried to focus on Matt. He held my hand. He wore blue paper clothes and a paper hat over his head. I might have laughed except for his face. His eyes were swollen, and his normally perfect skin was blotchy. He sniffed as he brought his hand up to my cheek. "It's a boy?" "Oh Mag, you should see him. He's so little but he's got a ton of blonde hair. He's even got down-like hair on his shoulders and arms. It's so blonde it's almost white. He's beautiful, Maggie." Matt was teary-eyed as he spoke. "Is he OK?" "The doctor, he's a neonatoligist. He said he's critical, but there's a good chance he'll make it. He said lots of babies born this early make it these days." "He's critical?" "But the doctor said he would be OK." I burst into tears. Matt tried to "shhhhsh" me, but he was crying too. I had gone from being unsure about wanting a baby to being heartbroken at the thought of losing one. * * * "C'mon, Maggie. You're not in labor. It's too soon. You can't be. It must be gas or something." Matt quipped. "Oh, and when did you become the expert on what labor felt like?" I asked, holding my side as if that would make the pain subside. "Maggie, you're only six and a half months." "Matt, I'm telling you it's not gas. It feels like severe menstrual cramps, and it's happening every ten minutes or so." "Every ten minutes or so? For how long?" Now Matt looked worried. Apparently, when you use a sentence with numbers in it, for a CPA, it all starts to make sense. Every ten minutes must have been the eye-opener. "About two hours, I think." "Two hours?" Matt exploded. "Why the hell did you wait so long to tell me?" "Because I thought the same thing you did, it's too early, it can't be labor, it must be gas." I started to feel teary-eyed now. I knew it was hormones, but why did men do that? Why did they think when they suggested something rational that you hadn't thought it up as well? Did he honestly think I was stupid? He knew how much this whole pregnancy meant to me, to us. I told him as much. "Matt, I didn't want to jump the gun, but now I'm scared. I know how important this is." "I'm calling the doctor." "I was going to, but the last time I was in the office, he told me from here on out if anything was wrong to go straight to the hospital." "Did he suspect something was wrong?" "He said it was what he told all his pregnant patients after six months." "Well then, let's go. _NOW!_" Matt's tone was brisk and it made my eyes burn again. He must have noticed, because his features softened and so did his tone. "Ah, Maggie-honey, you know I'm just worried." He kissed my forehead and ran his fingers through my hair. The intimate gesture calmed my nerves a little and made me want to forgive him. I hadn't packed anything for the hospital yet. Our childbirth classes were supposed to start next week so I hadn't even thought about it. I grabbed an overnight bag and threw in a clean pair of panties, a hairbrush, and bathing necessities. And we were off. In the car, Matt was silent but kept looking over at me. "Keep your eyes on the road, mister, or we'll never get there," I teased in an effort to relax us both. "I'm watching, I'm watching!" Matt's hands were ashen from the grip he had on the steering wheel. And then it dawned on me. "OH NO!" I cried. "Oh god, what, Maggie, what?" "I didn't shave my legs or anything." "Shave? That's what you're thinking about?" I didn't want to think about anything else. I wanted this to be the normal drive to the hospital, the one that resulted in a healthy, bouncing baby. Not the one where a baby is born prematurely. I couldn't think about the stories I had heard about premature babies or about women who died in childbirth. Shaving was an easier topic to think about. "Well heck Matt, you know how the hair on my legs get. It's like cactus needles with dry skin. It's grotesque." "I'm sure they've seen worse Maggie. Besides I like your hair all cactus-y and your legs all dry. It makes me think of your cunt as an oasis." Matt was trying to make me laugh now. He'd had time to think about what was going on. He always did that. He would react and then think. Sometimes it got to me, even when I wasn't hormonal. But most of the time it just gave me something to tease him about. The contraction caught me while I was trying to answer. I ignored his comment and put my head back, trying to concentrate on the pain to get through it. We rode the rest of the way to the hospital like that: me with my head back, and Matt stealing glances at me every few seconds. Luckily, the hospital was only twelve minutes away. Matt pulled up at the emergency door and an orderly helped me into a wheelchair. I told him I didn't need it, but he insisted. They wheeled me quickly up to a room, had me strip and put on a hospital gown, and attached a fetal heart tone monitor around my waist. Within minutes, the nurse had her invading fingers up inside me to check how far along I was. I thought I should at least know her name before we became so intimate. She pulled out her bloody fingers, whipped off her rubber gloves and washed her hands before saying anything. Her name was Polly. "Maggie, I'm calling Dr. Rothman to tell him what's going on. I'd say you're already six centimeters dilated. Which means you're going to have this baby tonight, and there's no way we can stop it." "How? I haven't been laboring that long. It wasn't that long, it didn't even hurt that much, really." I could hear the pleading in my voice. "Sometimes these things happen. It's nobody's fault. Its just nature making its own way." Polly left the room. Matt and I looked at each other. The fear rose up between us like burning incense. "Matt, I really didn't wait too long, I followed Dr. Rothman's instructions." I was anxious to hear him agree with Polly that it wasn't my fault. "Maggie," he started and then stopped. He sat on the edge of the bed, cupped my chin in his hands and then finished, "Baby, you did everything right. You did everything perfect." He'd read my mind. * * * "I'm five-and-a-half months pregnant and we haven't even agreed on a name for the baby and you're going off to play golf?" I was being ridiculous. The fact that I knew it didn't stop me from forging ahead. "You don't even like golf!" I pouted. "No, _you_ don't like golf. I like it OK, but what I'm really doing is schmoozing with potential clients." "You schmooze you lose, buster!" Matt turned his back to me and folded his arms across his chest, determined to ignore me, I suspected. I looked at his nice broad shoulders and the way they V'd down to his perfect waist. That's another thing: he had a perfect waist! I was mad at him about that too. It wasn't _his_ waist blooming up until he had to bend over just to see his toes. What did men know about shaving their legs and painting their toenails with a big-ballooned belly in the way? His shoulders began to shake, mildly at first, and then all-over body quaking. He was laughing! I tried to sound indignant. "You're laughing at me!" "Uh-uh." He mumbled and then, as if his laughter was volcanic lava, it burst up out of him in full-blown belly laughs. "I can't believe you're laughing at me." "Oh, c'mon Maggie, did you hear what you said?" He turned back to look at me, his face red with hilarity. His hand was covering his mouth, as if to hide his uncontained grin. "We have important decisions to make, Matt. We haven't picked out names or finished the nursery. We don't have a plan of action on how to alert the relatives ..." I paused. That last one sounded lame even to me. But I was in too deep to stop now. "We don't have time to frolic around on golf courses on a perfectly good Saturday." "First of all, I do not frolic. Secondly, its business. And jeesh, Mag, we have plenty of time." He was right of course, but I didn't want to tell him that. I had hoped to spend the day together. But I was being ridiculous. I was glad I kept my diatribe about toenails and shaving to myself. Just then the baby kicked. Not the little flutter that could easily be mistaken for gas, but a full-fledged kick. I reflexively grabbed my stomach. "Oh my gosh!" "What, Maggie, what? Are you OK?" "The baby, it kicked! Here, give me your hand." I grabbed his hand and put it on my belly. I covered his hand with mine. We stood there for a minute, waiting. It kicked again. "Did you feel it?" I said excitedly. "Whoa, I think we have ourselves a football player in there! Just like his ol' man." Matt beamed. "And my dad!" I added. "Yep, a little Matthew Joseph." "Oh Matt, I like that! Matthew Joseph." I liked the idea of naming the baby after Matt and my dad, whose name was Joseph. It was perfect. A little embarrassed, I said, "I guess we've accomplished one of the things on our list. I suppose you can go frolic." He wrapped his arms around me, snuggled in, and gave me an Eskimo-nose kiss. "Hmm, OK but first you have to tell me what I lose if I schmooze?" We broke into laughter. * * * I had a creeping desire that I wanted my husband to attend. So I leaned over against him on the couch as he watched Monday Night Football. I wasn't exactly dressed for seduction. I had taken to wearing loose clothing like the sweatpants I had on now. Not that my stomach was bulging much, but I'd heard that tight clothing wasn't good for the fetus. I'd also taken to going braless. I didn't have floppy boobs, but they were tender and they felt better when I let them breathe. I burrowed my head against his upper arm and began to make lazy circles on his thigh, hoping that the braless thing would be seductive enough. And if all else failed, I'd depend on my ability with my hands to arouse him. "OK, what is it?" he asked. "What do you mean?" I tried to sound innocently unaware. "You must want something, so out with it." "Why do you say that? "Since when do you snuggle up close when football is on? Usually you read or cross-stitch or some other shit girls do." "Is there something wrong with wanting to be close to my strong, virile, and handsome husband?" "OK, now I _know_ you want something. You haven't called me strong, handsome and virile since our second date when you'd drank too many Long Island Ice Teas at that party." "I don't want anything honey, honest. I just want to be close to you and smell you and feel you and maybe play a little two-hand touch. Wink-wink!" I elbowed him in his ribs conspiratorially. "But what about the baby, Maggie? Won't we hurt it?" "Dr. Rothman says we can have normal sexual relations, that's what he called it too: normal sexual relations. Although I guess that means we have to skip the abnormal stuff until after the baby is born." I giggled and imagined what exactly was abnormal. "What the hell," Matt said, "the Bengals are getting beat again anyway." "Oh Matt, you say the sweetest things." I nearly choked on that. "And hon, can you get me a peanut butter and mayonnaise sandwich before we start? I'm starved!" Matt put his head down near my belly and cupped his mouth like a gramophone. "Baby, you hold tight in there for a minute because your mama deserves this." He grabbed my arms, hauled me face down over his lap, and yanked down my sweatpants. I squirmed and wiggled trying to get myself free, but he held me with one arm and I felt the sting of his hand as he smacked my bare ass. "You're a monster!" I yelped. "Besides, I think spanking might be considered abnormal sexual relations!" I was laughing; I couldn't help it. "I'm the monster? You're the one that lured me away from the football game with promises of sex and then asked for a PB & mayo sandwich." He shivered in mock disgust. "That sandwich is the only thing abnormal here!" I batted my eyes at him. "Make it a good sandwich and I'll make good on my promise." And I did. * * * The minute hand on my watch must have been broken. I swear when I looked at the time and only one minute had passed. I couldn't believe it. It had felt interminable. I tapped on the face and put it up to my ear to listen. Darn, it had to be right; I could hear the soft tick-tock even over my pounding heart. The directions said it only took five minutes. Blue meant no, pink meant yes. I was surprised to find myself praying for pink. I looked in the mirror, turned sideways, and rubbed my hand over my naked belly. Perfectly flat. I turned forward again. My boobs did hurt a little, and I could see a shimmer of blue veins just under the skin, converging on my nipples. I had not been sick in the mornings, though. Just that one time I got a little nauseous at a restaurant, but I didn't think I could count that. Matt had also complained about the stink of the place. That'll teach us to try something new and out of the way. So as I counted down the symptom list. I could only give a nod towards being late, albeit a whole week late. I could be encouraged that I was always on schedule, within one to two days. So I had the late period and the slightly sore boobs, faced off against no morning sickness and no change in my belly. "Maggie, what are you doing in there? I have to piss!" I jumped and the magic wand of pregnancy went flying through the air, landing perfectly in the two-inch space behind the toilet." "Oh-op! Darn it Matt, you scared me to death." "Well, c'mon, open up, I gotta go." "Just a sec." I tried to reach the wand but it was wedged. I couldn't believe it. Even my skinny arms wouldn't fit behind there. I looked around the room, there had to be something I could fish it out with, maybe the end of a toothbrush. "Mag, damn it, I really have to go." OK, Matt's toothbrush. I tried but it was too short. I yanked open the door. Matt stood naked with a semi-erect penis, holding himself like a two-year old trying to stop the flow of urine with his hand. "All right, bladder boy, but you've just ruined the surprise." "What surprise?" Matt asked. He continued the two-year old impersonation by bouncing from one foot to the other. "Well, it's not a surprise yet. I meant I wanted to surprise you when I knew the answer." I stumbled around for words, thinking I could some how still surprise him. He peaked around me and saw the box for the pregnancy test. In two seconds flat, he was swinging me, wrapped up in his arms. "Maggie-sunshine, I love you!" "Matt wait. I don't even know if I'm pregnant yet." I couldn't help but notice the elation in his face droop just a little. "Why don't you know? How long does it take?" "It only takes five minutes, unless of course you lose the wand behind the toilet when your husband scares you half to death." I pointed toward the back of the toilet. "Mag, if you didn't want to know, there were lots of places you could have hidden the darn thing," he grinned. "Ha! Ha! I think I'm going to have to get the broom to get it." "I'll get it!" he said as he rushed out of the room. He was so excited. I knew he would be of course. Matt came from a large family of five brothers and sisters. He had high hopes to follow in his parent's footsteps. I still had reservations about just this one, but I could feel that little butterfly of excitement starting to flutter in my stomach. I looked behind the toilet to see if I could catch a glimpse of blue or pink. Nothing. Matt was back in a flash, pretending to be a super-hero on a mission. "Stand back little lady, Bladder Boy to the rescue!" "Bladder Boy's costume is the best super-hero costume I've ever seen. Bet it saves on laundry." I skimmed over Matt's nudity in admiration. He had long, lean legs with well-defined calves, a tight muscular ass, and oh baby a wonderful penis, which at the moment was completely soft and flopping around with his efforts to force the broom handle behind the toilet. He was able to get the handle down and the wand slid out like a puck from the end of a hockey stick. It was face down. We both hesitated and looked at it on the floor between us. Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore. I bent down, grabbed it, and ran into the bedroom. I slowly turned it over. The color had started to fade but it was undeniably pink. That little butterfly of excitement flapped its wings full force. I couldn't believe it. I was going to have a baby! Matt must have been worried about my mixed feelings. He crept up behind me and peeked over my shoulder. But he didn't say a word. "I'm going to have a baby," I whispered. And then I added, "No, _we're_ going to have a baby." Matt's arms surrounded me. He snuggled me from behind, letting his hands absently caress my breasts. "I love you, sunshine." He held tighter. And softly he began to sing to me. Tears of joy slipped down my cheeks, just like they had the first time he sang that to me, when he proposed. "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happeee ... Pee? Damn! I have to go now or I'm gonna bust a gut!" He ran into the bathroom and didn't even close the door. I could hear the steady flow of urine. He yelled to me while still going. "Are you sad, Maggie?" "No, Matt. I'm happy. I'm so happy it's spilling right out of my eyes." And I meant it. * * * I was trying to set the mood. The candles were lit. The champagne was chilling. I wore a new taupe negligee that was mostly sheer. Soft jazz filtered through the Bose stereo system. I couldn't think of a single clich that I had forgotten. Matt was due home any minute. It was our fifth anniversary. Five years of wedded bliss. Well mostly bliss. There were the occasional blow-ups over social events: Matt would rather the event be sports related - I preferred just about anything else. The only other topic that had been a source of contention between us was children. Matt wanted lots. I wasn't sure I wanted any. Until now. I can't be sure if it was my biological clock ticking or if it had been the constant exposure to his huge, happy family that swayed my decision. I only knew I loved Matt, he loved me, and I decided we have so much love that we needed to share it. "Honey, I'm home!" Matt's voice boomed through the front door as he entered. "Whoa, Maggie, I don't think Donna Reed looked like that when Mr. Reed came home." His eyes scanned over me appreciatively. "Sure she did. That's why he was so happy!" I beamed. "Would you like some champagne?" "Uh, sure. What's the occa ... sion? Uh-oh. The anniversary." He tried to look sheepish, but it didn't work. His face broke out into a Cheshire-grin. "Don't worry I didn't forget. I got your present somewhere on me. You just have to find it!" Matt wiggled his hips and thrust his pelvis towards me, trying to give me a hint. "Darlin, I've seen what you got in those pants. I'll admit, it gets hard as stone and it fits me to perfection, but I don't think it's on the traditional list for fifth anniversaries." "That's funny, I thought the fifth anniversary gift was wood. Damn! That Miss Manners misled me again." I couldn't contain my giggles. He could be so funny. I shimmied over and pressed my body flat up against his. I grabbed his arm and put it around my waist. "Mmm, Maggie, you feel so good." Matt nuzzled in at my neck. His body was warm and slightly sweaty from a full day. He smelled like man and sweat and a little leftover Eddie Bauer cologne. I ran my hands up his sides and pulled out his tucked-in shirt. We stepped apart and I pulled the shirt up and over his head. His bare chest was covered in soft blonde hair that swirled down over his abdomen and ended just below his beltline. After five years, the site of him still turned me on. I felt myself dampen, and I felt the tug of arousal between stomach and delta. He slipped his fingers in the straps of my gown and slid them off my shoulders, then kissed the tops of each shoulder. I shivered. He kissed all the way up my neck and nibbled on my ear before whispering in a husky voice, "Happy Anniversary, Sunshine." I moaned. He pulled away; his hand ran down my arm and circled my wrist, leading me into the bedroom. We quickly undressed and shared an intimate, naked hug. This part of our lovemaking never felt routine, even if it was consistent. We both loved standing naked, wrapped in each other's arms. It felt so close, like our souls were hugging too. I sat down on the edge of the bed and scooted over to the middle. Matt crawled up between my legs, leaving a path of moist little kisses. He placed his hands on either side of my hips and then hovered over my pussy. He rubbed his face in my pubic hair, first his chin, then his cheeks, followed by his nose and finally his lips. I was horny, there was no doubt about it. I raised my hips and met his mouth. He stuck out his tongue and teased my clit. I couldn't keep my hips up and he refused to bend down, so I had to keep lifting them up. He kept his tongue out, and over and over he jabbed at me. My butt cheeks burned with the effort. I collapsed back to the bed and Matt finally lowered his mouth directly over my cunt and sucked. Not soft little sucks, but power sucks, like something was caught in a straw. "Mmm Matt, honey, that feels so good. So good!" His tongue darted around. I shrieked and my legs closed against his head. I might have wondered, how could he breathe? But I didn't care; it felt too good to let him stop. He sucked and sucked until my pussy felt raw and I was on fire everywhere else. His tongue did a hedonistic dance as he sucked the orgasm right out of me. It started and held for a very long time, balanced at the edge of beginning, until my patience wore thin. "Suck me Matt, suck me." As he did, I tumbled over into one of those earth-shattering orgasms that tear through synapses at break-neck speed to reach all over your body. My legs relaxed and Matt came panting up on top of me, leaving a trail of his pre-cum up my leg, my juices smeared all over his face. I didn't think he could get inside of me quick enough. "Hurry Matt, please hurry!" Together we guided his swollen cock to find the hole, and singularly he slipped it in. He slid in easily and pushed. I could feel him stretching to fit inside. He circled his hips, causing the head of his penis to drill in to me. I latched my feet behind his back and could feel the muscles of his ass flexing against them. He slipped in and out slowly, but with each thrust inward he used all his strength to push. I clenched his cock with my vaginal muscles when he pushed, using my inner muscles to suck his orgasm from him like his mouth had done to me. I recognized his climax. He gritted his teeth, grabbed my head and huffed. "I love you, Maggie! Oh god, I love you Maggie! I was filled with his love; I was filled with his seed. He collapsed on top of me and then, with some exerted effort, rolled over to my side. "I love you too, Matt!" We lay quietly, letting our breathing return to normal. He reached for my hand and held it firmly in his. I squeezed in close to him, side to side at shoulder, hip, and thigh. Heat swarmed between us. The air was humid with the smell of our coupling. The room turned still with just the beat of our hearts. He started to hum, at first so soft I could barely hear him. As I recognized the tune I hummed along. In some sage, pre-designed code, our voices blended, his the lead, mine in harmony, and we sang the words: "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are gray. You'll never know dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away." Matt squeezed my hand again and I felt love in its unconditional form. I let the last echo of our voices drift away before saying, "Your gift is in the drawer." "You mean there's more?" Matt asked as he looped his arm over to open the drawer on the bedside table. He pulled out a small wrapped, rectangular box. "Should I open it?" "Umm-hmm." I tried to hide my excitement. He untied the bow and ripped off the paper, then held the box in front of him, turning it over and over, like he was waiting for it to speak. "It looks like your birth-control pills." "It is." "I don't get it" "Open it." Matt opened the box and just stared at its contents. "OK, it's a box of pills. Maggie, I don't think I can use these." "It's a _full_ box of birth-control pills." I could see realization make its way over Matt's face. "Matt, honey, I think we may have just made a baby." From Dusk til Dawn By Desdmona Copyright 2001 <1st attachment begin> <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. 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