Message-ID: <36991asstr$1024755003@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: From: Mmtwassel@aol.com X-Original-Message-ID: <157.f9e8ede.2a4279bd@aol.com> MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Wed, 19 Jun 2002 20:20:13 EDT Subject: {ASSM} [rom fest] Twassel: Summer Storm (Flash Fiction) X-Original-Subject: (rom fest) Twassel: Summer Storm (Flash Fiction) Date: Sat, 22 Jun 2002 10:10:03 -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: dennyw, RuiJorge =========================================== This story was written for the 2002 ASSM Summer Flash Rom Festival. Find more Mat Twassel fiction and photography at: http://calendar.ateros.com/ =========================================== Summer Storm by Mat Twassel ============== Joe was at the computer in the corner studying Tiger Woods' girlfriend. On the couch Joe's wife Jo-Jo was reading a novel about a boy on a lifeboat with a tiger. Their daughter Amy was out with her boyfriend, Brad. First day of summer--typical Friday evening on Bluebird Lane. In the distance thunder rumbled. "Did you hear that?" Jo-Jo said. "Better check the upstairs windows. It might storm." "It's miles away," Joe said. Then, BOOM, the lights went out. "Flashlight," Jo-Jo said. "Kitchen drawer left of the sink," Joe answered. Rain pelted down. "You get the windows," Jo-Jo said. "I can't see." "Shit." But she was laughing. Joe made it upstairs. Closed the windows. Lighted the candle that Jo-Jo kept on her bedside table, the one she used when she wanted to make love. He cradled it downstairs. "Hey," Jo-Jo said. "Smart. These batteries seem awfully feeble." She wiggled the dim beam across Joe's face. Joe peered out the window. Bluebird Lane was dark. "Must be a transformer." "So what do we do now? Go out for ice cream?" "I was thinking maybe we shouldn't waste the candle." "Mm," Jo-Jo hummed. "What about Amy?" "She's in good hands with Brad. Hold this." He gave Jo-Jo the candle, then began unbuttoning her blouse. Jo-Jo stood patiently. Soon the buttons were undone. "I'm curious how you'll manage the sleeves with me holding the candle." Ignoring the sleeves, Joe worked on the shorts, the panties. Soon Jo-Jo stood naked--just her unbuttoned blouse. "Come on," Joe said, taking her hand, leading her to the couch. "Here. Sit on me." "Kiss me first." "Okay, but don't let the candle singe my hair." "What there is of it." They kissed. Still kissing, she sat on him. He went in slow and easy. "Honey," she sighed. "You feel so good." "You, too," he answered. They fucked slow and easy, the candle flame flickering, the rain rattling down. "Remember that time on your parents' couch?" Joe said. "Your father coming down?" "No," Jo-Jo said. "You must be thinking of someone else. Some other girlfriend." Joe paused. Jo-Jo giggled. "I can't believe he didn't catch us," she said, giggling again. "I made you stop and think, didn't I?" "That's it. You're really going to get it now. His cock bucked. His fingers danced on her clit. "Honey, you're making me .... The candle. I'm going to ... to spill ..." "Go ahead, spill," Joe whispered. "Spill, my little honey cunt. Spill." Jo-Jo came. Joe followed, hot gushing spurts. The flame flared, finished. "Mom? Dad?" It was Amy, coming in the door. "What are you guys doing? You wouldn't believe how hard it's raining. All the lights are out." "I know, sweetie," Jo-Jo said. "These summer storms flash up like lightning. We were just going to go swimming when boom. Why don't you check the kitchen for a flashlight? The drawer near the sink." Soon as they heard Amy's footsteps, Joe and Jo-Jo scampered upstairs. ============== Summer Storm by Mat Twassel -- 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: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d, look for subject {ASSD}| |Archive at Hosted by | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+