Message-ID: <34995asstr$1012417802@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: Inosolan@linuxfreemail.com (Inosolan) X-Original-Message-ID: <91A669291CowboyMouth@207.91.5.10> NNTP-Posting-Date: 30 Jan 2002 15:01:06 GMT User-Agent: Xnews/03.09.22 X-ASSTR-Original-Date: 30 Jan 2002 15:01:06 GMT Subject: {ASSM} Roberta's Revenge, 2/? by Inosolan Date: Wed, 30 Jan 2002 14:10:03 -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, newsman Roberta's Revenge, 2/? By Inosolan A "Hot Rags" story As usual. Adult matter. If not in your jurisdiction, don't. Under 18 or 21 or whatever the age is whre you are, don't read it. All characters but the emu and the alpaca are over 18 and they are bioth of legal age in their home countries. MF, SF, oral, cons, (some) humour, (sort-of) cb "Ummm. Well." He looked around again. The huge waterbed on which they lay was the only furniture in the small room. The room's walls were featureless, a pleasant warm grey in tone. No lamps were visible, but the room was well lighted in a smooth and even manner that cast no dark shadows or unpleasant glaring highlights. The ceiling was just high enough that the images in the big mirror were easily watchable, if you happened to be looking that way and weren't otherwise too busy to look. On one wall was what appeared to be a closet door, on another a door, partly open, that showed what looked like a similar room fitted out as a bathroom, with hints of gleaming porcelain and golden fittings. No windows. And, unless it were through the bathroom or through the closet or there was a secret panel he couldn't see in one of the walls, no way out of the room, either. "Do you like my little hideaway, cutey?" Roberta purred. "Errr." He was still too shaken by the sudden transition to say anything. She giggled and reached out and grasped him in a decidely familiar fashion. As she began to stroke his member with her warm hand, she grinned conspiraorially and said "Dr Capek doesn't know I built it, you know. He thinks I'm hard at work all the time when actually I come here and play a lot." "Errrmmmm... 'play'?" he asked. "Mmmmhmmm. I've been experimenting. I've found out that there are all *sorts* of things that I like. Some of them might surprise you." Slipping her thigh from under his head, she stretched out alongside him on the slightly undulating waterbed, still stroking his recovering cock with her hand as she leaned forward and kissed him, long and deeply, letting him taste his own semen on her lips and tongue. "Oh, really? Surprise more than suddenly finding myself *here*? Wherever *here* is..." he said. "Oh, yes," she said. "Remember the weekend I spent at your place?" "If I said 'No', you'd rip that off, I'm sure, so, even if I didn't, I'd say 'Yes, of course, it was wonderful.'," he answered. "Well, I read a bunch of your comic books while you were sleeping..." "You mean, lieing in a total comatose stupor, recuperating from the excessive demands of an insatiable nymphomaniac, don't you?" "Well, whatever... Anyway, I found a new role model in one of them, a woman who lives her life to the fullest and has fun whatever she does..." "Ummm, I hate to ask, who -- Wonder Woman?" "No." "Catwoman -- back when Devin Grayson wrote it, she had a lot of fun..." "Nope." "Supergirl." "No." "I have this nasty feeling we're getting into villain territory. Not Mighty Endowed, I hope." "No, and not White Lightning, either." "Okay, he said, suspecting that he wasn't going to be thrilled with the answer," he said, "who?" With a huge grin, she let go of his half-erect cock, spun around on the bed, somersaulted off of it, did an incredibly erotic cartwheel into the closet, and, before she could possibly have changed clothing, came out in a blurrng series of handsprings, winding up balanced on one to in a sort of ballet/acrobatic pose on the end of the bedframe. Her joyous "Ta-Daaah!" and his "Oh, no -- I guessed it! Anybody but *her*!" sort of collided in midair. "Wat's'a mattah, sweetie? Don'cha like the new me?" she asked in a chirping voice and accent straight out of a Thirties screwball comedy. She wore an even-closer-fitting-than-spandex leotard quartered in red and black, and adorned with red and black designs, red and black jester's shoes and hood, and a black eyemask. She popped her gum. "Ha-harley QUINN!?!" he exclaimed. "Well, yah. Goil's gotta have a little fun in her life, ya know, an' Harl here has a lotta fun. 'Course, my version of Harley doesn't give a shit about Mistah J, so she's not crazy like the one in the comic..." she said as she did a backflip and would up in a handstand on the foot of the bed. What the acrobatics did for her figure was fascinating. He was fascinated. It was pretty obvious that the painted-on-looking leotard contained absolutely nothing but 100% girl. "Well, look at that!" she cooed, as she made a move that was half piroutte and half roll, to land solidly but lightly next to him, setting up waves in the waterbed. "I do believe the nice man has a thing for spandex!" She reached out to his hard and erect penis and tickled along the underside with the sharp red nails he was pretty sure she hadn't had before she put on the costume. The position she was lieing in pressed her firm tits against his arm; with a breathy giggle, as she stroked his cockhead and one fingertip scooped up the drop of precum from its tip., she wiggled against him in a way that proved that, indeed, there was nothing but all of Roberta under that thin elastic fabric and also called attention to the fact that her nipples were already erect, pressing into his arm like little pebbles. He rolled toward her, one hand reaching to caress her pretty tits, as her own hand stopped its teasing and closed firmly on his dick, stroking it along its full length, bringing it to absolute maximum erection. Their lips met, and her tongue slipped past his lips, meeting his own on its own ground, duelling like two erotic monsters. His other hand reached downward, stroking her mound through the leotard... nothing under it, there, either; he could feel the outline of her lips. Stroking along her pussylips through the fabric, he could feel the wet warmth increasing; he could even feel the bump of her clitoris, which he also gently caressed through the fabric. Stroking her slowly, he was rather startled to suddenly feel the material seem to melt away as his finger slipped smoothly into her hot wet depths. He almost yanked his hand away, but she stopped her own hand work, and reached down to hold his to her mound. Breaking the kiss, she said "Don't worry about how -- just go *on*, pleeeeze." So he did. He stroked her depths with first one finger, and then added another, plunging into her hot wet hole as far as he could manage, then slipping them out to tickle her fully-erect clit, then back in again, then out and up and down the lips of her hungry cunt, then down to tease her anus, then back up to her opening to plunge deeply inside of her again, stroking strongly until she suddenly went limp, then stiff, arching her back and closing her eyes as her internal muscles clamped on his fingers and she moaned out a climax. She stayed that way, motionless except for the fingers that still caressed his straining cock, until her orgasm had exhausted itself. Then she rolled and jacknifed, and engulfed his straining cockhead with her hot wet lips. Teasing the entire length of his big dick with her tongue and fingers, stroking his testicles with her other hand's sharp nails, she pumped her head up and down over him, taking all of his cock, letting it slide into her throat like a professional. Then she raised her head, keeping just the head in her mouth, stroking it with her hot wet tongue, as both her hand stroked the rest of the shaft firmly, then plunged her head down again, taking his full length in again, sucking firmly and rhymthmically as her nails caressed his balls, the skin directly under them, and down along his crack to his anus, teasing the puckered opening, then slipping one gently inside. ((In the mirror above, he saw himself and Roberta/Harley. It was like the most incredible porn film he had ever watched, as he saw his big dick slip in and out of her ruby red lips, watched her slipping her middle finger into his anus. Watching himself and this incredibly sexy girl rolling there as she sucked every inch of his cock into her hot mouth, then lifted her head until just the head of his cock was in her mouth, its length glistening obscenely with her saliva, seeing her shove down and take it all in again, watching her pumping that incredibly stimulating finger in and out of his asshole, made him hotter and harder than he could ever remember being, ever before.)) Stroking his cock in and out of her mouth almost its full length again, she matched its in and out strokes with the finger that penetrated his ass. Increasing the force of her oral caresses of his cock, she also pressed more and more deeply into his ass with that maddening finger until his hips bucked over and over as, with an almost bestial roar, he could hold back no longer and he lst go, filling her sweet mouth with his how white cum, as she plunged her finger all the way into his anus, stimulating him even more. It seemed as if he had never cum so much in his life; he could feel jet after jet of semen bursting forth from his pumping cock, filling her mouth, more than filling it, trickling down to drip on his belly as she continued to stroke his ass with that hot finger... Finally, completely spent, totally limp, he fell back, limp and completely, for the moment, to move. After a moment, she shook herself, rolled to one side and came to her knees. From there she twisted somehow into a cross-legged position sitting next to his head; he realised that he could see her crotch and that there was no opening in the fabric. Not even a seam that could have hidden one. He reached a hand to feel; she watched with a grin on her face as he touched solid (and dry) fabric over her entire groin area, thin enough that he could feel her heat, but solid. "Neat trick, huh?" she grinned at him, still in the Harley Quinn personna. "Ummm, yeah." he muttered. "Figured out where you are, yet, lover?" she asked, with an apparent change of subject. "Somewhere the rules are different..." he said. "For sure. You're in VR, my boy." "Virtual Reality? This good? Without any kind of suit or ... whatever?" "Yup. You, my boy, are 'inside' the big mainframe at Moocow State." "How...?" "Never mind 'How?'," sha said. "Worry about 'Why?'." "Okay, why?" "Two reasons. One is that I'm a horny bitch that hasn't been laid since we last saw each other, and this way I can take care of that... and the other you don't need to know yet, except that I need a favour from you." "This isn't one of those stories where the guy promises the beautiful girl anything she wants in order to get laid and it turns out she wants to cut off his cock and fry it, is it?" "Eeeew, gross. Of course not!" "Just checking." "I knew you had a dirty mind, I just didn't realise how gross it could be," she said. "Listen, we don't have to thirsty or hungry or tired or orgasmically dysfunctional here, but would you like a beer?" "That sounds good, if we're not going to screw like minks right now, which I doubt I could do anyway, before about tomorrow sometime, considering all you took out of me with that little performance..." "Oh, so? Watch this." She reached out a hand over his limp dick, and snapped her fingers and clenched her fist. Instantly, he was hard as a rock, fully erect, and ready to go. "Huh?" was all he could manage. "I told you -- I'm in charge here; I make the rules for this particular little pocket universe." She opened her hand, and the raging hard-on subsided a bit. "Okay, now that you can think about anything besides sex again, get us some beers," she said. "Where?" he asked, completely off-balance. "In the cooler, of course," she said. He followed her pointing finger with his eyes, and saw... a refrigerator. A typical, avacado green, bedroom- sized fridge. A typical, avacado green, bedroom-sized fridge that had *definitely* not been there when he first examined the room. Stumbling off the bed (getting out of a waterbed takes a special skill; it had been years since he last slept in one), he opened the fridge, finding it stocked with (what a surprise, he decided) his two favourite beers. "What do you want, babe?" he asked. "I'll have an Anchor," she said. Grabbing a bottle of Anchor porter for her and a bottle of Czechvar* for himself, he popped them and then rolled back into bed. For a few seconds the only sound was the sound of swallowing as they both indulged in the proper appreciation of a good beer well deservd after a particularly rousing fuck. "I'm not asking how you knew my favourite beers," he said, after he had sunk about half the bottle. "Simple," she said, licking some foam and a bit of stray semen off her lower lip. "I looked in your fridge when I was at your apartment." "That's cheating! You were supposed to give me some ominously vague explanation about Virtual Reality..." She giggled. He glanced up at the big mirror again. Yup. Here he was, lieing buck-naked with a three-quarter hard-on on crumpled satin sheets sharing a beer with a super-villainess out of an animated cartoon. Check. He was either crazy or he really was in the kind of super-VR setup she claimed he was. He preferred *not* to be crazy, especially since, if he wasn't crazy, he stood a good chance of getting to fuck his dream woamn again. He just wished she'd lose the Harley Quinn drag. "Well," she said, as they finished their beers and the bottles, to his no surprise at all by this time, disappeared. "Let's see. You ever ride a motorcycle, lover? "Huh?" was his clever response; the question seemed to come out of the blue. "Uh, yeah... When I was in high school I had a motorbike I rode to school." "So I'm sure you remember all about how to steer and how to balance and stay on, right?" "Yeah..." "Oh, good!" She rolled over, then raised herself on hands and knees, facing the foot of the bed. One hand reached under her belly, back between her legs, and one long red nail traced a line from her ass almost to her waist in front. And the material of her leotard seemed to split as her finger traced the junction of its red and black legs, opening wide to expose her white skin from her asshole to her clit, her cunt already wet and beginning to puff open, showing pinkly between her legs. "Well, come on, lover. Time to hop on and rev up your Harley!" ======================================================== *A Note About Beer: Czechvar, mentioned in this story, is the *true* Budweiser, brewed since (mumblety-mumble) hundred years ago at Budwicz in the Czech Republic and known by that name everywhere in the world but the Americas, since Gussie Busch stole the name (and even the label design) Way Back When. It is again available here, under the name Czechvar, and it is Very Good Beer, Indeed. -- 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. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+