Message-ID: <34650asstr$1010747408@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: nickurfe@yahoo.com (Nicholas Urfe) X-Original-Message-ID: <5a5d3dd2.0201102233.3fc2b071@posting.google.com> Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit NNTP-Posting-Date: 11 Jan 2002 06:33:09 GMT X-ASSTR-Arrival-Date: 10 Jan 2002 22:33:08 -0800 Subject: {ASSM} cuyahoga.001 [urfe] [new] Date: Fri, 11 Jan 2002 06:10:08 -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: gill-bates, dennyw . :: as falls cuyahoga, so falls cuyahoga falls :: Vanessa Cuyahoga is not a small woman, but her heels kicked off, she only comes up to Marko Lappalainen's collarbone. And even though she's supporting some of her weight with her bare feet propped on the counter top, he holds the rest easily enough with hands the size of soup plates under her thighs. She leans back against his broad chest and reaches up and back with one hand to stroke his cheek. Her eyes get wide as he lifts her, a little. Ah ah, she says. Wait a minute. Wait for Timo. Timo Lappalainen is three inches shorter and just as blue-eyed and sandy-haired and naked as his brother. Grinning, he sidles up, his back to the counter, ducks under one of those amazing lean legs the flawless color of Danish wood, and stands up, carefully, between them, facing her, his back to the counter. He hooks hands only slightly smaller than soup plates under her knees and pulls and lifts and leans down to swallow her mouth with his. His cock, glaring purpled cockeye through a milky membrane of latex, disappears under the hem of her glossy black microskirt. Mmf, she says, pulling away from his lips. Wait, she says, licking the dusting of golden stubble on his chin. Wait. Let's get Marko in first. She leans back against Marko, high enough now that her head nestles comfortably between his cheek and shoulder. He hefts her a little, and she giggles. No, she says. Ooh. Not, uh. Um, he says. Help him, she says to Timo. Reach under - there. Spread my - that's it. That's it. Oh. Right there. Oh boy. Now. In. In. Push, that's - oh. Oh, boy. Ranh, says Marko. Oh, you're in, she says. You're in. You're all the way in. Hey, says Timo. Just a, she says. Just a minute. Let me - Come on, says Timo. Get in there, says Marko. Fuck, says Vanessa. Can't I just, just enjoy the moment? But Timo's hands have already pushed up her skirt and there's her pussy, the lips parted slightly, glistening in the sunlight. He runs his fingers lightly along the skin above it, shaved smooth, bare. Like a little girl's, he says, softly. Like a little girl's. Like a stripper's, says Marko. Vanessa arches her back, the hem of her black satin camisole riding up her taut belly. She tilts her head back to bite at Marko's ear. Shut up, she says. She looks at Timo then, fixes his pale blue gaze with hers, dark and steely. Well? she says. Well? You wanna fuck this little girl? You gonna? You gonna fuck this little girl? He licks his lips. Your brother's cock is already up my ass. All the way. You'd better get inside now or this won't be a fair fight - and there's Timo already grabbing her hips and ducking his knees a little. She reaches down to spread herself, just enough, and as he slips inside the most extraordinary look crosses his face. Vanessa grins, and then the grin slides off as Marko shifts his weight, as Timo pushes closer, squeezing her between them. Her eyelids flutter over her eyes. Her lips tremble. Her toes curl, one foot slipping a little on the slick tile edge of the counter. Oh, she says, oh, oh boy, so full... I can, says Timo. I can feel you. Yes, says Marko. You can. Okay, says Vanessa. Okay. Slow and easy to start. Lift, and - work together. Lift, and - Marko's hands shift, move down Vanessa's thighs a little as Timo's squeeze the cheeks of her ass, wedged against his brother's hips. They lift Vanessa a little, Marko grunting, and she flexes her legs and swings forward a little and down, and Timo groans. And again. Vanessa's holding onto Timo's shoulders, squeezes them. And again. Now, says Vanessa, now, you might think you've got an advantage over Marko. You might think - oh, boy - you might think because my ass is so tight that you've got an advantage over Marko. Oh. That he can't - oh, like that, like that, yes - that he can't hold out. But. But. Oh, boy, faster, a little faster, because. Because. Because I can do things with my cunt - - and a wave passes up Vanessa's body, rolling along her spine, her tits slithering under the black satin cami as she looks up past Marko's grimace into the light-washed ceiling and then back down, down again to Timo, whose eyes have just crossed - Of course, says Vanessa, of course, oh, it can't help but do things to my, to my ass, too. It's all connected. It's all connected. Faster. Faster. Come on, goddammit. Come on. I don't care, I don't care which of you comes last, but. Oh, boy. Oh, oh boy. But I'd damn well, damn well better come first... Vanessa pumps her legs, controlling somewhat the thrusts up and down, mitigating what the Lappalainen brothers do with their hands and legs and hips. Her foot slips on the counter. Marko catches her weight. Timo lifts, grunting. Vanessa plants it again. Fucking. Fucking in the breakfast nook, a late-morning pot of coffee steaming on the table beyond them, forgotten, next to rolled-up plans, a scale model of a house, three or four low, flat levels staggered down a molded hillside littered with tiny trees like green spun sugar. Lots of clear plastic standing in for floor-to-ceiling windows. A broad square pool ending like a cliff, covered with a sheet of blue saran wrap for water, two tiny figures as big as the first joint of your thumb lying beside it in painted-on bikinis, blue and yellow. A Matchbox Audi in the little driveway at the top of the hill, parked by a long low wall made of thick white Bristol board. Oh, says Vanessa with a grimace, oh boy, eyes squeezed shut as her mouth drops open, panting shallowly, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, her legs folding and Marko moving with her squashing Timo, groaning, against the counter, squashing Vanessa, oh, oh boy, between them, oh, oh fuck! And Marko holds her, and Timo holds her, and she shudders between them, her head lying back on Marko's shoulder, one hand poised, fingers curling, by Timo's head. Oh. Oh, boy. Fuck. Yeah. Fuck. Well? says Marko, and he kisses her cheek. Well? says Vanessa. Well? Well what? What? You tired? You want to put me down? No, says Marko, as Timo snorts. No. Then come on, goddammit. Come on. Come on. Vanessa kicks her legs against the counter and humps up and back and down again, grinding between them, down and again, down and again. Marko plants his legs, his bare ass quivering, thick muscles taut as they thrust to meet Vanessa. Timo leans back, butt against the counter, looking up as Vanessa hikes herself forward to lick his nipple, to bite it as her nails dig red lines into his shoulder. They fall into a fevered rhythm, panting, all of them, harsh and noisily. Sweat slicks Vanessa's arms, her throat, Marko's forehead, his back, Timo wipes it out of his eyes quickly with a shaking hand and then back into the rhythm of it, faster now, and faster. Leaning back now Vanessa reaches up for the back of Marko's head and draws it down, his neck straining, into a clumsy kiss. Syncopation. Then Marko hunches forward as Vanessa tilts her head out of the way, looking sidelong down her nose with a satisfied smile, her face still though her head still bobs with the rhythm, as Marko's lips open like fingers to grasp his brother's mouth, as his tongue licks Timo's lips, and Timo's tongue, as Marko's teeth flash and as he takes his brother's lower lip between them, pulling, and Timo groans, his fingers clenching, grinding, his nails leaving red crescent moons along the flesh of Vanessa's ass, and still Vanessa's smile does not shift or alter in any way. But it's Marko breaks the rhythm, it's Marko whose buttocks jerk sharply, and again, whose knees threaten to buckle. Vanessa's feet loose their purchase but she can't fall, not now. Borne up on Marko's thrusts they lurch into Timo, his head back, whooping even as his breath gets ragged, as some muscle in his throat jerks, and jerks, and jerks again, like someone's flipping a switch somewhere, on and off, on and off. Vanessa's toes are touching the floor. Fingers of one hand spread across the bare slick plank of Timo's chest, she absently kisses his throat as he kisses his brother's mouth. Marko has let go her thighs - it's their pelvises holding her up now, stilled, but trembling - and one massive hand cups a tit, swallows it. Marko kisses his brother's forehead and then rests his nose on the back of Vanessa's head. We should, says Timo. Yes, says Marko. What, ah, says Vanessa, lifting her mouth from Timo's neck. What time is it? Eleven thirty, says Marko. Possibly later. Twenty of, says Timo. Shit, says Vanessa. I've, uh - Marko ducks his knees a little, pushes her hips - I've got a thing - there's Marko's condomed cock, wet and shining, Timo grimaces, ducking, as Vanessa steps away, and there's his, shining, wet... The pool? says Marko, shovelling his damp cock into the black jeans he's just tugged over his hips. The plans? They work for you? Vanessa looks up from working one bare foot into a narrow black squared-off shoe. Settling her heel into it, frowning, she says, The pool. And then walks across the nook to the table, past Timo, naked, pouring himself some coffee. The pool, she says, is fine. But? says Marko. Vanessa's toying with the little figure just bigger than her fingertip, the one in the painted-on blue bikini. If, she says, you, either of you, lay a hand on one of my daughters. She looks up, eyes cool and dark and clear, her mouth crooked a little at the corners. You have the contract, she says. But if that happens, anything like that, I'll see you crucified. I'm sure, says Marko, we understand each other. Vanessa hooks her thin black car coat up with one finger and shrugs into it. It's got six brass buttons. Good, she says. Your, uh, says Timo. Your panties? Vanessa looks up from slipping the top button into its buttonhole. Her eyebrows quirk up. She shoots a floppy cuff to check her watch. She shakes her head. Keep them, she says. And she leaves, slotting black Ray Bans over her eyes, sensible heels clip-clopping on the red tile floor. Didn't even bother to finishing buttoning her coat. I'll take some of that coffee, says Marko. :: as falls cuyahoga, so falls cuyahoga falls an object lesson.001 --n. :: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/nickurfe/www/ http://www.ruthiesclub.com/ nickurfe@yahoo.com This story may be freely circulated by anyone, anytime, anywhere. . -- 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. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+