Message-ID: <42021asstr$1051092607@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: From: "Sean Farragher" X-Original-Message-ID: MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-Priority: 3 (Normal) X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1106 Importance: Normal X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Tue, 22 Apr 2003 18:23:45 -0400 Subject: {ASSM} TxM6: Sexual Improvisation and Raunch #3 Date: Wed, 23 Apr 2003 06:10:07 -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, dennyw (c) 2003 Sean Farragher http://www.seanfarragher.com http://www.seanfarragher.com/taximurdersbook http://www.seanfarragher.com/Joss http://www.seanfarragher.com/hyperfiction sfarragher@nj.rr.com Buzz the vibrator caught the lip of the slip of the furrow and rolled around paradise all day. She was turning her hips rocking them back and twist until the way her skin open, as a window inside, into the speculum into the pushing of the tampon inside, and pulling the string out and throwing that gift over shoulder before plunging inside and rocking rocking the earth with a tortured step by step. She stood there with the string hanging down and I drew the model composed. I was twenty, and the arts students league was a dusty new york city hive, and later when I found her on the A train steps, same dress, same life, and I knew my girlfriend waited home patiently studying, and she smiled, and said, I know what you wanted. I did it on purpose. I wonder which artist would stare at and never stop. You did. You were not afraid and I think I almost wanted to pull it out on the tableau stage and dangle it in front of your nose and then some woman behind me said, quietly I have spare to help you if you need to change, and I laughed because I knew I was three months pregnant and it was a ruse. As the A train roared into the station, she said hurriedly, come home with me, I want to fuck you. I had ten seconds to decide, and I said no, I cant. I never saw her again. When I got back to my rooms uptown my lady was lounging and said she was unwell. My friend she said was here. I told her I don't care she is welcome to my teeth, and she laughed as she always did when I was the dirty man, and she was the pure girl who fucked me on her father's couch and I dribble down the arms as well. When I was young and carefree the cheap poem proclaims, and young among the barns where horses raise their forelegs and crush the maid. I watched my lover's eyes and imagined her desire as he plunged within to the depth of pain. She was breathing hard, and I was lost. The woman with the tampon struck a cord, and that night with Theresa in my arms I wondered at the model's smile and promised myself I'd find her somehow, but never chance release my claim and I never felt the quick, the soft plum of her hairy pose. I love the way women brush their pubic hair before they masturbate with glee. -- 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 | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+