Message-ID: <31054asstr$993431404@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: From: mmtwassel@aol.com (mat twassel) X-Original-Message-ID: <20010624080109.15974.00000768@ng-da1.aol.com> Subject: {ASSM} P2C: Mat Twassel: Mecca Date: Sun, 24 Jun 2001 21:10:04 -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: kelly, dennyw Mecca by Mat Twassel ============== It is the new millennium at the Mecca. Four thousand guests dance in the six splendid ball rooms, dine in the three world class restaurants and six cozy cafes, gamble in the seven lucky casinos, golf on the 18 hole championship course, shop in the countless elegant boutiques, contemplate evocative artworks in the museum and galleries, and when they have had enough of all that, they retire to twenty-five hundred opulent suites and make passionate love. Mecca is the modern paradise, rising precisely 502 feet into the new century's star-filled sky. In the year of our Lord, 2001, Mecca is worth, according to conservative estimates, two point five billion dollars. ~~~ Thirty years ago this was desert, a patch of scruffy land abutting old Route 11 and County T. Almost every morning, Jeff Otterfoot rode his motorcycle across it, a shortcut to the high school, and often he paid the price, a ten dollar fine for trespass. "Pig," he would say to Officer Cartwright with a half-smile. "You know I could outrun you easy." "Maybe so," Cartwright would reply as he'd hand over the citation. "But I'd know where to find you. Why don't you just take the proper roads like you're supposed to?" "And be late for school? I get detention and Jenny'd have to take the bus. You know how she hates to take the bus. She'd ..." "She'd wait for you. Just like she always waits for you. I don't know why. Now get on to school." "Pig," Jeff would mutter under the rev of his engine. "I swear I'm going to buy that property," Jeff told Jenny Cartwright the evening after one such episode. Jeff had turned around on the Harley's seat so he was facing Jenny. They were at the end of the little road that led up to her dad's place. In the distance Jeff could see the cruiser parked next to the house. "I'm going to save up and I'm going to buy that land, you just wait and see, and then what would your dad do for fun?" "You've been saying that all year," Jenny said. "Yeah, but this time I mean it. It's two hundred dollars. I'm almost halfway there. Another couple- three weeks ought to do it. Then I'd like to see the look on his face." "Another three weeks and we graduate," Jenny reminded him. "Then you're off to Viet Nam and I'm I don't know where. Anyway, you could get there a lot quicker without all the ten dollar tickets. You want me to ask him to lay off you?" "Hell, no," Jeff answered. "Sometimes a man's just got to take some risks." "Yeah, right," Jenny said. "Give me one more kiss, then ride me down home. Unless you want to risk kissing me in front of my pa." "Is there a fine for that?" Jeff asked. "Anyway, he knows we kiss. He probably knows we do more than that." "In your dreams," Jenny said, and before Jeff could reply she had her arms around him and her tongue in his mouth. The kiss lasted a long time. "Nice dreams, I'll bet," Jenny said once the kiss ended. "I have them, too. Now ride me on home." Three weeks later Jenny and Jeff graduated from high school, and Jeff still hadn't saved up enough. It wasn't that he got any more tickets. He'd spent all his money to take Jenny to the prom. Tux rental, a corsage, the prom tickets, a nice dinner at Mae's diner, and a room at the Kozy Winks wiped him out. There was not enough for a bottle of champagne to say nothing about several acres of desert real estate. "I feel bad about the champagne," Jeff said. "I thought I'd have enough." "It's okay," Jenny said. "You're all the champagne a girl could want." She giggled. "Give me another kiss." The pressed together. Silver moonlight sifted through the ratty curtains, bathing the bed and Jenny's naked body. "We can't stay all night," Jenny said, breaking a kiss. "And we can't actually do it." "I know," Jeff said. "I just like holding you. You're so pretty. So beautiful. We can just kiss and stuff." "And stuff," Jenny said, and she giggled again, and playfully squeezed a last droplet of fluid from the tip of Jeff's softened penis. "Mm," she said, "not as fizzy as champagne, but better." She covered his body with her own. "You know," she said, after a moment of gentle tussling, "you can hold me without the motel room." "I know," Jeff said. "But it's better in bed. Without any clothes on. Someday we'll have our own bed. Not this .... this place. Someday, when we're married." "Being married won't get us a place of our own," Jenny said. "Yeah, but it's a start." "We should just be thankful for this place. If I didn't work here on weekends ..." "This place?" Jeff scoffed. "Ha!" "Anyway, I think it's time you took me home. It's past the time I told my dad." "Forget about your dad. Forget about going home. Let's just get married." Jenny laughed. "You're sweet." She kissed his eyebrows. "But you'll be in the army in another month." "We could ride to Canada," Jeff said. "We could ride to Canada this very night." "On your cycle?" Jenny said. "With me in my prom dress and you in your tuxedo? That's what I like about you." "Does that mean you'll do it?" "You really want to?" Jenny said. "You're so funny. You really want to marry me and run off to Canada?" "I do," Jeff said. "I really do." "Why?" "Because I love you, silly. I've always loved you. Ever since second grade." "I've always loved you, too. You know that. But ..." "But nothing. Let's do it! My grandfather's from up there somewhere. We can stay with him. Come on, it'll be fun." "I don't think it'll be that much fun," Jenny said. But she mounted the cycle behind Jeff, and they took off, speeding north, the almost full moon lighting the way. The miles flew by. On the curves, chilly winds buffeted the gauze of Jenny's gown. "This is crazy," she said in Jeff's ear. "Maybe we should go back. I'll marry you at home." "For real?" Jeff asked. He slowed the cycle. "For real, but secretly," Jenny said. "Why secretly?" Jeff asked. "Because of the army? Because of your dad? Because of your dad and my ..." "Just because," Jenny said. The cycle was almost coasting. "It's not fair," Jeff said. "I want you to be my wife, not my sister." "We'd still have each other," Jenny said. "It'll work out. You'll see." Then they heard the siren. Looking back they saw the flashing light a few hundred yards behind and coming up fast. "We're almost at the state line," Jeff said. "We can beat him there." "No," Jenny said. But the cycle shot forward, racing through the gears, skimming the highway. Jeff leaned forward and Jenny clung to him and the engine thrummed and throbbed beneath them. For several miles they stayed just ahead of the cruiser. "Please stop," Jenny whispered to Jeff's back. "Please please stop." The motorcycle roared through the night. Just outside of Littlefield, they stopped on the shoulder. "We're over the state line," Jeff told Cartwright. "You can't touch us now." "Get in the car," Cartwright told his daughter. "What the hell were you thinking of?" "Sometimes a girl's just got to take a risk," Jenny said. She wobbled when she got off the cycle. But she got in the car. "Jenny?" Jeff said. Cartwright's hand moved to the handle of his gun. "Daddy!" Jenny shouted, quickly cranking down the passenger side window. "Look, you," Cartwright said to Jeff. Spittle flew through the night air. "You can take a flying fuck at the moon for all I care." Cartwright's hand tightened on the holstered gun. "Just leave my daughter alone." "And you leave my mother alone." "This isn't about your mother and you know it," Cartwright snapped, and he strode briskly back to his cruiser. "See you in school Monday," Jenny called through the side window. "Okay, Jeffie? Canada just wouldn't have worked out." "What about what you said? What about the ... the secret?" But by this time Cartwright's car was well down the highway, and if Jenny heard, she gave no sign. Jeff kicked his bike. He hopped on. He drove through Littlefield. He drove another fifty miles, and then he turned around and drove slowly back home. "Shoot, your dad's here." It was graduation night. Jenny and Jeff had left the party early. Only two weeks until Jeff's army date. Jeff stopped his cycle at the end of the street, nearly a block from his house. "So he's here," Jenny said. "What'd you expect?" "I thought he'd be on patrol or something." "Let's just go. Let's just drive." "But the rubbers are in my room. Maybe we could sneak in." "Let's just go." "It's not like it's not my house, too," Jeff said. "Why are things always so complicated?" "So what are we going to do?" "We're going in," Jeff said, taking Jenny's hand. "Fuck'em! But be quiet." They slipped in the front door. No sign of either parent. Jeff put his finger in front of his lips. Jenny mirrored the gesture. Then they touched fingers. Then they touched lips. Then the pair tiptoed towards the hallway. They stopped short. Jeff's mom's door was open a crack. They could hear the talk. "They're big kids now," Jeff's mom was saying. "You can't keep ..." "They're still kids," Jenny's dad said. "Who can take care of themselves." "I don't know--your boy is a wild man. You ever seen him ride that cycle? He's a menace." Jeff's mom laughed. "He always was a handful. You're a handful yourself, Mister Big." "You like that?" "You know I do. Now quit talkin' and put it in." "Shouldn't I, um, shouldn't I put on a thingie first?" "Nope." "You sure it's safe?" "Nope." "Then why?" "Our babies is growed," Jeff's mom said. "It's time to start a new crop, if that's okay with you?" "You're sure?" "I'm sure if you're sure." "Yes, ma'am," Jenny's dad said. "Okay then, it's settled. Put that big cock of yours in me and fuck me full of baby juice... yes, that's right, oh yeah, do it, do it, do it, ah yes, ah, you do it so good, so fucking sweet and good!" Jeff and Jenny slipped outside. "Jesus," Jeff said. "Yeah," Jenny answered. They rode Jeff's cycle all the way to Jenny's home without saying another word. "You want a Coke or something," Jenny said when they were inside. "I guess," Jeff mumbled in response. "It's not like you didn't expect it," Jenny said. "I didn't expect THAT," Jeff said. "Really?" "I don't know. I guess I did. But I didn't. I mean ... I don't know." "I don't know, either," Jenny said. "But they're adults. They can do what they want." "I guess," Jeff said. "But still..." "But we're adults, too," Jenny said. "Or close enough. I mean, we almost went to Canada. We almost got married." "We could still go," Jeff said. "We could go tonight. I don't guess your old man would be in any position to chase us." Jenny laughed. "How long do you think they'll be at it?" "From the sound of it, not too long." "You saying my dad's not a good lover?" "I'm saying my mom's awfully sexy." "She is," Jenny agreed. "But not as sexy as you." "Or you," Jeff said. "Let's get naked," Jenny said. "Let's get naked and do it." She kicked off her shoes and started pulling off her dress. "But we don't have any condoms," Jeff said. "Fuck the condoms," Jenny said. "You sure?" "I'm sure," Jenny said. "It's all I've been thinking about for days and days and days. Ever since we were eleven. I want to feel you shooting up inside me. It's the only thing in the whole freaking world I am sure of." Aug 11, 1970 Dear Jeffie, I got your letter. I got eleven letters from you, all at once. I didn't even try to read them in order. I just read them. I'm so hungry for you. For your words but mostly for you. So hungry. So you've been there eleven days now. I guess it's been more than eleven days by now. I'm so glad you're safe. Stay safe. Pretend I'm holding you all the time. That will keep you safe. I pretend you are holding me. I'm always smiling, because you are in my mind. You are in my mind and your baby is in my tummy. Yes, our baby. It's official. As official as these things can get. My daddy doesn't know yet. I'll tell him, but I'm going to keep it to myself awhile longer. Just you and me. You and me and our baby. I'm so happy. My daddy has his own little joy to worry about. I'm pretty sure your mom is pregnant. Isn't that fitting? He hasn't told me yet, but I know. I went over there this morning to tell your mom about the things in your letters that I could tell her, and I could tell right away. Somehow it's so obvious. She seems really happy, too. So maybe it's a race! I think we'll win. Cuz your baby juice is probably faster than my dad's! I wonder if your mom could tell about me. Probably. But she didn't let on. So what do you think it will be, a boy or a girl? Either way, I don't care. I'll even let you pick the name. But I get veto. What do you think about Harley? Harley Otterfoot. Or Davidson. Davidson Otterfoot? Seriously, I do like David. It's a peaceful name. Gentle and strong. Or maybe Haley if it's a girl. Like Haley's comet? Like a beautiful shooting star! I'm just so so glad we did it that night! Aren't you? I think about it all the time. I think about it and I think about you and it makes me feel good. It makes me feel whole and full and wonderful. I can believe anything could be that good. Maybe because I knew we'd have a baby out of it. I just knew. Once I was on top of you, riding you that way, with you so deep inside, so full in there, in me--it makes me shiver to think about it, even now. And now our baby is in there, because of that, because of our love. Oh, Jeffie. I'm crying a little bit. Crying because I love you so much. You know, sometimes when I was riding behind you on your cycle, I used to come. Especially when we went on the rough roads, or we went really fast at night. I'd actually have sexual orgasms. Could you tell? You couldn't, could you? I was a little embarrassed about it. The first few times I was worried that the seat would be wet. I felt so wet I was sure some of it would have dripped out, and I was afraid you'd be mad at me. But I loved that thrill, I loved riding behind you, the wind whipping, and my body just going crazy inside. But it was never as good as that night--really doing it, really coming, because you were making me come, not just me, not just the ride--it was like riding into a white hot star, and out the other side. We have to do that some more, okay? We have to do that lots lots more. Every day. Ten times every day. I'm telling you now, I'm going to want more babies. Lots more babies. But first we have to get through this one. I figure he or she will be a few months more than one year old when you get home. Big enough to sit on the back of a motorcycle. They'll be room for all three of us. You can teach her how to ride. Or him. You can teach him how to drive a motorcycle. Or her. Our baby. So you come home safe, you hear? You come home safe and sound and we'll be together for always and for ever. I'll write you more after supper. Love, Jenny PS This morning I took some money out of my bank account and I went down to Hopper's and I bought that piece of scrub land on the corner of T and Route 11 that you were always talking about. My dad said it was a dumb thing to do, but I figure it'll be a good place for you to teach little David or Haley to ride. XXOOOXX ~~~ In room 1424 of the Mecca, Jerry and Rose Miller are getting ready for bed. It's been a long day, their 50th wedding anniversary. They've dined and danced and taken in a show. They've held each other's hand in the shops and museums, and they've gambled the dollars their children have given them, winning some, and losing more, but keeping the winnings in a separate pile to be divided among the grandchildren. It's been a long day. A good day. "And now we have this champagne," Rose tells her husband. "It's good stuff, too," Jerry says, admiring the bottle, twisting the wire. "I don't know how they can afford to." "It was really nice of them," Rose says. "To bring it to our room and everything. Can you imagine-- the owners bringing it up like that? Such a cute couple. This place really is a lot like paradise." "Well, I don't think they were the owners; I think they just work here." "No. They said welcome to 'our place.' Like it really was theirs. And besides, their names were the same as on the whatcha-ma-callit." "Maybe," Jerry allowed. "But I got the idea they were more brother and sister." "No," Rose said. "More than brother and sister. Did you see the way they held each other's hand? The way they nestled against each other when they talked to us. That was love." "Can't brothers and sisters..." "Not that way. Not with that heat. And besides, she has a little bun in the oven." "Really?" "Trust me on that." "If you say so." "I do. Now why don't you pop the cork of that champagne so we can have a few sips, and then maybe we can do a little loving of our own? I'm ripe and ready, and the millennium is young, young, young." ============== Mecca by Mat Twassel Comments welcome. Write to: mmtwassel@aol.com More Mat Twassel at: http://members.aol.com/Mmtwassel/index.html -- 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. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+