Message-ID: <43652asstr$1059437408@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Originating-Email: [david_altaire@hotmail.com] From: "David Altaire" X-Original-Message-ID: X-OriginalArrivalTime: 28 Jul 2003 14:49:18.0638 (UTC) FILETIME=[6C5144E0:01C35517] X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Mon, 28 Jul 2003 10:49:17 -0400 Subject: {ASSM} {ASS} Sarah 2/? {David Altaire} (MF, MMF, exhib, rom, slutgf) Date: Mon, 28 Jul 2003 20:10:08 -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: newsman, hecate A bit more about this story. You'll still be able to (hopefully) enjoy Sarah Pt.2 without having read the first part, but it is not meant as a stand alone tale. Sarah Pt.1 can be found in the ASSM archive, so I would recommend taking the time to search it out, particularly if you do like what you read here. This is, of course, entirely fictional--Sarah and Josh do not exist, except in my own head (which they time-share with many other people, several furry animals, and a cheddar cheese log). And of course, we have to take care of the standard disclaimers. This is story depicting various sexual acts between consenting adults. If you are not of the legal age to read such accounts in your region, then make sure that nobody is watching before you scroll down. If you cannot legally read sexually explicit tales at any age in your hometown, bookmark this document, move, and then read on. The character of Sarah behaves in some very unsafe manners in this story, particularly in having unprotected sex with strangers. Remember, this is *fantasy*--it's fine to fantasize about porking some random person on the streets, but actually doing so in real life is just plain stupid, especially if you don't use any form of protection. Fictional characters don't have to worry about HIV and other sexually transmitted diseases. We do. The author (that's me) hereby grants any and all readers the right to freely download this story for their own private use, and to maintain a stored copy in electronic or paper form for the same. Archivists may display this work on their own sites, provided that full access to their archived works is granted free of charge, and this introductory message is left attached in its entirety to the story. Under no circumstances may this work be displayed on any site which requires persons to pay for membership or accepts paid advertising, even if the story is displayed in a free or "preview" portion of the website, without the prior expressed consent of the author. -David Altaire Feedback/suggestions/criticism (constructive and otherwise) are always greatly appreciated at David_Altaire@hotmail.com _________________________________________________________________ The new MSN 8: advanced junk mail protection and 2 months FREE* http://join.msn.com/?page=features/junkmail <1st attachment, "Sarah02.txt" begin> In part one of my tale, I told you how I met a wonderful, sexy woman by the name of Sarah. I told you about the rather unusual relationship which we share, how I came to love Sarah as much as life itself, and shared a few of her more outrageous exploits with other men, and with myself. As I left off, the two of us had been dating for about three months. During that entire time period we had been living together in everything but name, and it was about this time that we decided it was rather ludicrous of me to continue paying rent on an apartment that I only visited often enough to keep the mailbox from overflowing. I informed the landlord that I would have my possessions cleared out by the first of the month, and that was that--Sarah and I were now officially roommates. At this point, I feel that I should explain something to you about Sarah. Many of you may have noticed in reading the first chapter that Sarah seems to have a lot of free time, which has perhaps led you to wonder what she does to earn a living. The answer is: nothing. My dear, sweet girlfriend has never held a job in her life, and no, she doesn't make money through her sexual adventures, either. You see, Sarah comes from Money, with a capital "M". I've been quite fastiduous about not mentioning her last name, and for good reason: most of you would recognize it, and about the only person in the world that she tries *not* to show her slutty side to is her father. Her dad owns...well, let's just say that he's been extremely successful in the business world. He's the kind of man who could buy his own island without having to sell the Learjet, if you know what I mean. That does not mean that Sarah is some spoiled little rich girl, either--she never has been. Yes, she spent the first few years of her life in a huge mansion, and yes, she later bounced around several exclusive boarding schools, but she's never had the kind of unlimited allowance and posh, party lifestyle that you see people like the Hilton sisters enjoying. She also never really had a family. Even as a little girl, she would see her father perhaps two or three times a month; the rest of the time he was simply gone, whether to another part of the house or to the other side of the world, she never knew. He divorced her mother when she was 6, and the last Sarah heard about that woman was that she was living on some beach in California, spending most of her alimony checks on drugs and alcohol and whatever was left on incidentals like food and housing. That was when Sarah was 11. Now, I know what you're thinking right now--poor little rich girl with an addict for a mother and a father who gave her no attention, and now she's getting back at them by whoring around. That's where you're wrong. Sarah simply doesn't care about it, not anymore at any rate. Her take on life is that you make the most of the cards you're dealt, and her hand holds an absentee mother, an uncaring rich father, and a mind *and* body for sin. She fucks around because she loves fucking, and that's all there is to it. In the nearly three years that we've been together, Sarah has spoken to her father exactly two times: on both occasions because some unplanned expense came up and she needed extra money. She doesn't try to get in touch with him, she doesn't pine away for his attention, and she makes every effort *not* to let him see her lifestyle. It's not that she's embarassed or doesn't want to disappoint the man--it's simply that she's afraid if he finds out, he'll stop sending the checks. As far as he knows or cares, she could be living in a cardboard box and selling her body for cheeseburgers or she could be working in a laboratory and curing cancer, so there's no expectations to fall short of in his eyes. He sends her just enough money to maintain a fairly comfortable middle class lifestyle, which is what she does; if you really must know, it comes out to a little less than $50,000 annually. That pays her bills and leaves enough money to support her clothing habit, and she doesn't have to worry about money to go out as I'm fairly certain Sarah has never bought herself a drink in her life. I suppose her father looks at the money in the same way he looks at the alimony payments to his ex-wives, if he even bothers to look at them at all. So I was now living with Sarah in every sense of the word, and it was great. We fucked like rabbits, usually at least two or three times a night during the week. She still had all the freedom she wanted to go out and get fucked by other men, which she did quite often--especially when we first started dating, when it was a whole new rush for both of us. I'd always fantasized about being with with a woman like her; a slut, someone who loved sex and wasn't particular about acting on her urges, nor about who knew. For Sarah, she not only got to go out and fuck around with whomever she wished, she also got to come home and fuck me. More, she got to show and tell me all about her other partners. Sarah loves fucking, and she does get off purely on the physical sensations that go along with a hot session of hard sex. But what really turns her on is flaunting her slutty lifestyle; it's the mental side of it, of being able to tell the conservative minority which runs our nation to take their version of morality and stuff it. She's at her best when she's able to shock people, either through her dress or her behavior. Until she and I met, Sarah had been forced to settle for trying to shock complete strangers and casual acquaintences, which while exciting, wasn't nearly the same as being able to shock the man that she is in love with. That's really what it is--Sarah tries to shock me with the things that she does, and often succeeds. No, not in a bad way; she would never want to upset me, and frankly I don't think there's anything she could do which would truly offend or hurt me, short of walking out of my life (which I know she would never do). When I'd come home from work to find her lounging around in the tattered remnants of one of her dresses, dried cum coating her nearly from head to toe, it shocked and excited me. When we go out at night and she's wearing some tiny little outfit that we both know will never succeed in covering her tits and cunt, free of any other covering as always, that shocks and excites me. When she comes home from a night out alone and tells me how she met some guy in a bar and fucked him standing up outside the back door of the joint, with several other patrons watching and cheering her on, that shocks and excites me, too. And Sarah is always trying to up the ante; to do something even more outrageously slutty than anything she's done before. More often than not, she succeeds. It was about a month after I'd officially moved out of my old place, or about 4 months after I met her, when Sarah broached a new subject with me after work one evening. The vast majority of men that my girlfriend fucks are just random encounters--guys that she finds in a bar, a shop, on the street, or wherever. But she does have a few male friends that she fucks on a semi-regular basis; not boyfriends and not lovers, just repeat fucks. One of them is a man named Gustav. Sarah met Gustav at one of her boarding schools, and of course fucked him (I believe she was about 16 at the time); since then, they've kept in touch, and they get together for a quick fuck most times when he's in town. Now, Gustav is more your typical rich kid--he nominally lives in some house on the French Riviera, hangs out with the art crowd, and throws down $10,000 the same way the rest of us would spend five bucks on an extra value meal. Despite the name, he is not European--he just thinks he is. Yeah, one of *those* people. Gustav was in town for some big art showing or something, and Sarah had gone over to his penthouse suite for the afternoon one day while I was at work. She'd discussed the whole thing with me at length beforehand, as I guess she realized that fucking random strangers was a bit different than being with someone else whom she'd known for years, but I was okay with her seeing him again. I'd never asked Sarah to do or not do anything on my account before, and I didn't plan to on that occasion, either. When I got home from work, Sarah was already back, lounging on the couch in one of my old t-shirts. We did the usual "hello, how was your day" thing, and then she got serious on me. "Josh," she said, "I need to ask you something." The look on her face and the tone of her voice told me that she wasn't going to ask me to get her a cup of coffee. "What's up, Sarah?" "Gustav wants to meet you." She spat it out in one quick stream, as if afraid that she'd chicken out were she to speak more slowly. "Why? When?" I should explain that I've always known about every other sexual encounter Sarah has. She's never tried to hide anything from me, and in fact delights in telling me every sordid detail and showing me the physical evidence, as I delight in hearing and seeing such things. But until now, I had never actually met any of the other men that she fucked. I wasn't sure how I'd feel about being introduced to Gustav. She pursed her lip a bit before explaining. "I told him about you. You know, that I have a boyfriend now." She smiled nervously. "And he wanted to know about you and all, and so I told him some and how we're living together and how you don't mind the way I fuck around, and then he got it into his head that he just *has* to meet you." She rolled her eyes; I'd later discover for myself just how difficult it is to dissuade Gustav from anything he sets his mind on. "I finally said that I'd ask you, but that I wasn't sure how you'd feel about it. You know, 'cause I did fuck him again today." She actually looked a little guilty about that fact, even though we'd spoken about it previously and agreed that she should. To make a long story slightly less lengthy, it took some heavy discussion, but I did finally agree to take her to meet Gustav at a restaurant the next evening. After which I showed her just how much it didn't upset me that she'd loaned her cunt out for his use that day. He'd chosen a very fancy site for the dinner date, which I suppose is what he was used to, and so I had to break out one of my suits for the occasion. While Sarah generally tends towards the cheap and slutty look, she also has a nice collection of expensive and slutty gowns which she's accumulated over the years, and she donned a real doozy that night. It was pale blue in color and very slinky. The designer had apparently opted to do something a little different in the way of cleavage, so while the neckline actually came up to just below the neck, thin strands wrapping around to tie the top closed behind her head, there was a diamond-shaped cutout across the midsection which exposed Sarah's lower cleavage, along with a bit of the undersides of each of her braless tits. The gown left her back completely bare, from the thin tie under her hair down very nearly to her ass; if she arched backwards just so, you could see a good amount of her crack. It fell down nearly to her ankles, but was slit all the way to her hip on the left side, where anyone who looked could easily see the lacy tops of the tan colored stockings that she wore underneath. And of course, keeping with the Sarah that I know and love, that was all that she wore underneath. On her feet were a pair of 4 inch heels--Sarah owns heels which vary in height from 2 to 8 inches (yes, 8, but they're platforms, so they provide the same arching effect as a pair of regular 5 inch heels), but 4 inches is her usual when she doesn't plan on doing too much walking. Gustav was waiting at the table when the matre'd showed us in, and I found myself unimpressed. He was about my height (a shade under 6 feet) with long black hair and a thin build, his face initially locked into the bored look which the very rich prefer to wear in social settings, but changing instantly to the overdone smile which the very rich offer to other very rich people, in social settings. He wore a tailored suit, in black, which probably cost more than my car. As we talked over the meal I did feel somewhat ill at ease, but more just from Gustav the person than from the fact that I knew he had fucked my girlfriend that afternoon (of course she'd done him when she went over to inform him we'd be doing dinner). Think of every cliche' in the book regarding wealthy people, and Gustav fits them all. He was a bit of a boor, he didn't know nearly as much about anything as he apparently thought he did, and he was prone to suddenly change topics on a dime. But he did seem well appraised of the situation between Sarah and I, he did pick up the check, and Sarah was rubbing her leg up and down my shin underneath the table the whole time. With dinner finally over I thought that we had escaped, but Gustav insisted on having the two of us over to his hotel for a few after dinner drinks, and since Sarah didn't seem to want to beg out, I agreed to go along. Sarah and I drove over in my car, and I have no idea whatsover how Gustav got there--apparently there's some sort of underground railroad in the city which shuttles rich people around, out of site of the rest of us. He was already there when Sarah showed me the double doors to his suite, the man pulling them open with a flourish when she knocked. One drink became two, which then became three, and eventually the three of us were all sitting on a large couch in the main room, Sarah between Gustav and I. She had kicked off her heels some time ago and had her head nestled against my shoulder while her hand casually ran up and down the inside of my thigh, her feet tucked up neatly behind her and the lengthy slit on her dress having fallen over her leg, baring it from hip to toe, as well as half of her naked ass cheek, to both myself and Gustav. I'm not sure exactly when it happened, but I do remember looking down at one point and seeing his hand on her thigh, rubbing the bare skin above her stocking. Sarah's hand was moving closer to my dick and her hips were undulating slightly, as if urging him to move his hand higher. Between the wine at dinner and the drinks there at the penthouse, I guess that all three of us were a bit tipsy. I excused myself to the bathroom, out of actual need and not anger or jealousy, but I guess that Sarah mistook my motivations. When I opened the door to return a minute later, she was standing right there. "I'm sorry, Josh." "What? Why? Huh?" They actually came out as one word, but you try typing that. The puzzlement on my face must have been pretty obvious, because right that moment I saw the rarest of sights--Sarah actually blushed! "Oh, God! You really had to go?" It came out as sort of a whine, a hint of laughter already creeping into her voice. "Yeah. That *is* why most people go to the bathroom." I couldn't help teasing her a bit, smiling in wonder at the rosy color in her cheeks. "I thought you were angry." "Why would I be angry?" She looked up at me again as if expecting that to be a loaded question, but it wasn't. "Gustav was kind of, you know...rubbing my leg, when we were in there." "Oh, yeah! I saw that." Like I said, I was tipsy. "And you're okay with that?" She left the rest of the question hanging on the air. I looked down into her eyes, seeing the uncertainty and hesitation on her face, as well as the slightest hint of an expression I'd seen far more often. "It seems sort of crazy to get upset about that, after he's fucked you the past two afternoons." "Well, yeah, but...you weren't there, then." I knew where this was going. "You want to fuck him again tonight?" She nodded, her motion almost meek. I thought about it. I knew that Sarah fucked other guys all the time, and that fact turned the both of us on. I knew that Sarah had fucked Gustav many times, and that didn't bother me either, not even in his company. He already knew our situation as well; knew that we were in love, and that I was fully aware and approving of her lifestyle. Knew that she had told me about the past two afternoons she'd spent with him. "Okay." It didn't even feel like I said it, so much as forced that feeling out of my own soul and directly into Sarah's. "Okay?" I smiled, placing my hands on her shoulders. "Okay." That incredibly sexy and devious smile reappeared on her lips for an instant, then faded as she thought to the next problem. "Would you want to be there, or would you rather we went in the bedroom or something?" "What would you prefer?" She paused for a long moment, as if weighing the truth vs. what she thought I might want to hear. As it always does between us, the truth won out. "I'd like you to be there, with us." I'd never seen her in action before, only gotten the recaps. Maybe part of it was the alcohol in my system that night, but most of it was just pure love and trust in my girlfriend. A pinch of curiousity, too, to be sure, but I knew then as I always know with Sarah: I can trust her. She loves me as much as I love her, and she would never knowingly do anything to hurt me. Knowing that, and as long as I remember it, she never possibly *could* hurt me. There are two roots of jealousy: mistrust, and lack of self worth. If you don't feel good about yourself and you don't trust your partner, you're going to be jealous of anyone else who captures his or her attention; it's that simple. Now, I don't pretend to be the most self-confident guy in the world, and I'm not. There are a lot of things about myself that I feel could be improved upon, but there are two things that I couldn't possibly do any better than I do now: love Sarah, and trust in her love for me. That second night I spent with her, after we'd laid bare to each other our secret desires and saw that they only served to compliment us as a couple--when I saw that single relieved tear which squeezed past Sarah's defenses and heard her call my name in a voice that she reserves for me alone--I knew that she loved me. I didn't understand why then, and sometimes it still puzzles me exactly what makes her feel that way, but I knew it regardless. And once I knew that, I trusted in it. She does and says things every day which bouy that trust anew, so that I never doubt her love even for a second. So if I love her, and I know that she loves me, how could I possibly be jealous of anything she does with other people? Especially when we both know how much those things turn us both on? The answer is simple: I can't, and I don't. I smiled at her, my eyes serene as they held hers. "Let's go, then." She visibly shuddered then. She smiled back at me, a special smile, and her voice cracked slightly when she spoke again. "I've wanted this for so long, Josh." I knew what she meant. Not that she'd wanted to fuck Gustav again, not that she'd wanted some simple threesome in a fancy hotel suite. That she'd wanted me there with her, wanted to share one of her experiences with me. She told me everything that happened, every time, but I realized then that it isn't quite the same--that she still sometimes felt like she was sneaking around on me, cheating behind my back, because I wasn't there. That she wanted to be able to look up and see my face beside her, to talk to me as she felt a strange cock sliding in and out of her body; to be together. I hadn't realized it until that moment, and suddenly I felt terrible for ever denying her that because of my own self-doubts. I wiped a single tear from her cheek with my finger. "What you want, I want. Always remember that." A second tear squeezed out of her duct. "I love you, Josh." "I love you too, Sarah." I kissed her, not the hard, tongue-tangling kiss of passion. A soft, tender kiss of love. And then I held her for a long time, our bodies swaying gently in a breeze that only we felt. When we broke the embrace, the more typical Sarah was back. She turned her back to me, pulling her hair out of the way. "Untie me?", she asked. I pulled the simple knot behind her neck open, releasing the straps of her gown. She shook her hips once and it fell into a crumpled pile around her stocking feet. Sarah stepped over her dress and swayed her way towards the living area. "You coming, baby?", she called over her shoulder. I followed quickly, my eyes locked onto the site of her naked back, her bare ass swinging sexily as she walked in front of me. Gustav turned to stare appreciatively at her form as she reentered the room, naked save for her tan thigh highs. "This is okay?" As I said, Gustav isn't really European--he was born in New Hampshire. But he thinks he is, complete with an annoyingly overdone accent. Sarah was used to it, though, and simply nodded, turning her head to smile at me. "Now somebody fuck me." Gustav looked to me as if asking if I wanted her first, but I simply motioned him ahead. I guess the rich do things like this all the time, because he didn't even pause before rapidly undressing. Now, I have nothing against gays or bisexual men, but I'm not one of them. That said, though, I'm only human, and as he slipped off his socks while Sarah knelt on the floor before him, I finally saw what exactly my slutty girlfriend saw in the man. He isn't John Holmes-type big, but he's definitely porn movie big--I've since discovered (from Sarah, I didn't do the measuring) that his cock is ten inches long and has a diameter of close to three inches. This was the cock that Sarah had been riding for the past two days! My own dick had been rock hard ever since Sarah had let her gown fall to the floor, but it never the less seemed to lurch and grow a fraction of an inch harder when I saw her stroke his shaft a few times and then turn her head to me, keeping her eyes locked on mine as she slowly bent and took his head into her mouth. She tore her eyes away as she started bobbing, not even my adorable little slut able to take that entire monster down her throat on the first try. Every time her head moved down on his pole another inch or two would disappear between her lips, though, until finally she stood between his legs and leaned herself forward, burying her nose in his dark pubic patch while the final two inches slid into her mouth. Gustav had his eyes closed and was running his hands through her hair, grunting and moaning at the sensations that I knew he was getting. Sarah stayed in that position for at least a full minute, twisting her head around on his shaft and squeezing his balls lightly. When she finally allowed him to slowly slide out of her mouth, a small river of spittle ran out across her lips, dribbling down over her chin and his length. She sucked in breath like a deep sea diver finally breaking the surface, her hand stroking him the whole time, looking over at me as if to make sure I was still there, watching. I thought I'd seen her eyes gleam at me before, when she described something particularly nasty that she'd done, but I realized now that I hadn't even seen the half of it. She was in her element now, not just telling me but *showing* me what a cock-hungry slut she is. "Come closer," she panted when she finally caught enough breath to do so. It was like I had no power over my own body. Before my mind had even understood the words, I was walking slowly closer to where my beautiful girlfriend stood, naked and stroking another man's cock. She smiled at me as I approached, her chin soaked in spit. "I want you to see what a good fucking slut I am," she purred, immediately diving back onto Gustav's immense root. I stood there and watched, no more than 3 feet away, as my girl slobbered all over another man's dick like the cock-hungry slut she is. She would alternate between deepthroating him and sucking on the head while swirling her tongue around it and rapidly stroking his shaft, pausing every so often to talk to me, tell me what a slut she is, how much she loved sucking cock. Sarah kept this act up for at least 10 minutes while I stared at her, my own erection straining against my slacks. She finally took his entire length down her throat one more time, holding it so long that I was afraid we'd both pass out--her from having her airway clogged by Gustav's thick root, and me from holding my breath while watching the spectacle. Her hips were jerking back and forth the whole time, as if fucking the thin air which surrounded them. When she finally broke the seal she sucked in several deep breaths of air while her body shook spastically. "I want you inside me, now!", she urged Gustav, turning and settling onto his lap as she did so. Sarah spread her legs wide open, placing her stocking feet on the couch cushions to either side of Gustav, and reached down between her own thighs to grasp him. "Here," she panted to me, "Sit down. In front of us. So you can see this." I dutifully obeyed, sitting on the carpet just beyond Gustav's outstretched feet. Sarah was facing me, her back lain across his chest with her head on his shoulder, rubbing his cock against her shaven, dripping snatch. When she saw that I was in position, she lifted up on her haunches slightly, positioning herself above him. "You ready, baby?", she asked me breathlessly. "Yeah." It came out almost as a croak. With that she smiled for a second, pushed the tip of his head into her opening, and jerked her body down hard, screaming loudly as she buried him balls deep inside of her. "Oh, FUCK YEAH!!" She paused only to regain her breath and then started bucking up and down on him, my eyes glued to the spectacle of his thick shaft sliding in and out of her cunt, her lips stretched wide around him. I could see her juices all over his dick, glistening on her lips and inner thighs. Sarah kept grunting out obscenities to him, to me, to nobody in particular. She was loving this, loving the fact that I was there watching her. And as for me, I was afraid that I'd shoot off in my pants if I so much as thought about rubbing my dick. She told him to reach around her and pinch her nipples, which he did. She told me to keep watching her, asked me if I liked seeing her get fucked, and I did. She told me that she was going to cum, and she did. I'm not sure how many times she'd fucked him in the previous two days, but I was impressed by his staying power regardless--she rode him for the better part of 30 minutes, through 3 of her own orgasms, pausing only to switch positions every so often. She was on her hands and knees on the couch now, Gustav kneeling behind her and fucking her doggy style. Sarah gestured me to the arm of the couch, near her head. "I want to suck you, Josh. While he fucks me." Who was I to argue? She scooted the two of them closer to the arm as I moved quickly to comply, then nearly ripped my zipper off in her enthusiasm. The instant my cockhead cleared my pants it was in her mouth, Sarah sucking greedily while her wannabe Eurotrash lover rammed into her cunt from behind. It was obvious that they had fucked before, because Gustav knew just what Sarah liked--to be fucked, hard. He held nothing back, either, slamming his massive organ into her snatch over and over again, their skin slapping together like thunderclaps each time he bottomed out. The result on my end was that Sarah's head jerked back and forth on my rod, seeming to force me deeper into her throat than ever before. She tried to match his rhythm but couldn't quite, which meant that every few seconds she would be sliding my shaft out just as he fucked in, driving me back down her throat before she was really prepared. This set off her normally non-existent gag reflex, and I thought I'd died and gone to heaven every time I felt her throat muscles ripple against my cockhead. I tried my damndest to hold out, but I was just too excited after the show that Sarah had put on tonight. Combine that with the new sensations I was feeling in her mouth and I started shooting after only a few minutes, hard. It may well have been the biggest load I'd shot since the first night we spent together, too, and try as she might a large amount of it wound up dribbling out of her mouth and down her chin. She jerked my cock back as soon as I stopped cumming, coughing a couple of times when it left her mouth, but quickly allayed any fears I might have had for her well-being. "Oh, God! Yes!!!" She was screaming, and I could tell that she was cumming all over his dick again. Apparently Gustav had finally reached his limit, too, because just as her shaking ended, he slammed home one more time and held himself deep in her twat, groaning out and shaking as he poured his own seed inside of Sarah. Gustav pulled his already-shrinking cock out of her and Sarah just soft of collapsed on the couch, face down. She lay there like that for several minutes, all three of us panting deeply from the exhertion. Then I heard her voice, soft through the cushions. "Josh?" "Yeah baby?" "Come here." I knelt down on the carpet next to her head, laying my hand on her bare, sweaty back. "I'm right here darling." She bolted up suddenly, throwing her hands around the back of my neck and holding on as if for dear life. "I love you so much, Josh," she blurted out, and I was suprised to see that she was crying. I held her and rocked gently, not knowing what to say or do. I looked over at Gustav, who seemed as much at a loss as I was. "I must, uh, clean up," he finally said, scurrying quickly towards the bathroom. As soon as he was gone, I asked, "What's wrong, Sarah?" Her laugh was as much a shock as the initial outburst. "Nothing's wrong, you idiot!", she cooed into my shoulder. Sarah pulled herself off of my shoulder, propping her head on one hand and looking into my eyes. "You don't understand, do you?" I shook my head. She sighed, gathering her thoughts before speaking. "I've had threesomes before, Josh. And foursomes, fivesomes...hell, I fucked 10 guys at once one time." She looked at me, and I nodded slowly. She turned her head to look towards the hallway and the bathroom, as if expecting Gustav to come walking back in at any moment. "Come on, let's go out on the patio." She took my hand and led me through the sliding glass door, pulling it shut behind us. The night air was cool, especially from the top floor of a high-rise hotel, but felt good on our sweaty skin. The patio was dark, the blinking light high above us which warned off low-flying aircraft showering us with dim red light every few seconds. I was amazed at the view, noticing it for the first time--it seemed I could see half of the city, bright lights shining as far as the eye could see. I didn't worry that we'd be seen, as the only nearby structures as tall as the hotel were office buildings, dark and unoccupied at this hour. Sarah wouldn't have worried regardless. We sat on a padded bench, facing out over the city lights. "I was 17 the last time I had someone I'd call a boyfriend, Josh," she began. I could tell this was a speech she'd thought out many times before, but actually uttered aloud. "I didn't love him, didn't even think I did then, but I liked him. We dated for about 6 months, at one of my schools." I wasn't sure where this was going. The thought that this boy might have been Gustav fluttered through my brain, and that set off an inexplicable jolt of jealousy. She read my mind. "It wasn't Gustav," she smiled, laying her head on my shoulder and holding on to my arm. "I did like him, though," she repeated, "and he liked me, probably more than I did him." I know that's sloppy wording and so did she, pausing for a second and laughing at herself. But that's exactly what she said--I've never forgotten this conversation. "He liked that I was crazy. That I was a slut. I'd do anything he wanted to, stuff that most of the other girls wouldn't. Swallowing, anal, odd places, you name it. Hell, you know that already, huh?" She laughed again. "So one time he told me that he'd like to have a threesome with me and a friend of his, and I said I would. Even back then I'd had group sex before, so it wasn't a big deal to me. So his friend came over and I fucked them both, and it was really great." She paused, shussing me when I started to say something. "What wasn't great was when he walked into his buddy's dorm room the next week and found me fucking him again. Fuck, you know me, Josh, and I didn't think it was such a big deal--I'd fucked him before, with my boyfriend right there with us, so what was the big deal if I did it again, right?" I nodded. "Well, he didn't agree. He got all pissed off, called me every dirty name he could think of, and stormed out of there. He told the whole school I what I did, like I guess he thought that would ruin my reputation or something, but I'd been there for a few years then so they already knew what I was like. It took me forever to figure out why he'd gotten so pissed about it, though, and to be honest I still don't really understand it. I mean, I understand his view, I just don't understand why anyone would think that way. Like it's okay for me to fuck this other guy, but only so long as he's there, too? And even after that happens once, I'm not allowed to do it again if I want to? Fuck that! "If you ask me, that's worse than what I did, especially from his point of view. I mean, he's thinking that sex is only okay if it's part of a relationship, which is bullshit to begin with, but anyway...then he's saying that it's okay to fuck someone else, too, but only if he's there or if I get prior permission or something. And then he's saying that I'm supposed to like having sex with this guy as part of the threesome, but I'm not supposed to like it enough to want to do him again. He wants me to put out that one time, and then act like it never happened afterwards towards his buddy--now *that* would be slutty behavior! The bad kind, I mean." She sighed, reaching down to grab my hand. "That second night after we met, when you just came over to my apartment, I didn't think much of it at first. I mean, I knew I liked you, and I liked fucking you, or I would never have even let you see where I lived. But then when you told me that you liked the way I act, and when you were still there after I went out and fucked that guy...I was terrified. I kept thinking that this was going to pass, that eventually I was going to hit some boundary that you couldn't take, and then you were going to get pissed and I was going to feel like shit for hurting you. Like maybe you were the opposite of him, that you'd get off on me fucking other guys, as long as you could pretend on some level that it didn't really happen. As long as they were just some fantasy guys that you didn't even know for sure really existed. "And the whole time, I knew that eventually Gustav or someone else like him was going to breeze into town, and I dreaded that moment. Because I felt like maybe that would be the thing that did it, when you saw that there were guys besides just random ones. And when Gustav called the other day to say he was in the city, I felt like the whole house of cards was going to come crashing down, and you were going to get hurt." "Baby--" "Hush," she told me. "Let me finish first, okay?" She looked up at me and I nodded. "So I had to explain Gustav to you, and I could see you thinking about it for a little, but then I saw that you were okay with it and I felt like that was a bullet dodged or something. And then Gustav wanted to meet you because I couldn't just keep my mouth shut about you." She sensed the smirk on my face without even looking. "I know, just don't go getting all conceited on me," she teased. "So I asked you about meeting him, and I could tell you saw how nervous I was about that. And I could tell you weren't so sure about it, but you agreed, so I set tonight up. I was trying to be good, too, and just be yours, but after all those drinks...at first, I actually thought it was your hand on my leg, do you know that?" She looked up at me and laughed at my expression. "I was so focused on you, I mean, and the way we were curled up on the couch I just sort of forgot about Gustav being here. And then when you got up to go to the bathroom I realized he was the one with his hand on my butt, and I thought you were angry. And..." She stopped talking and blinked rapidly. "Fuck, two times in one night. This has gotta be a record or something!" She waved off my reply again and wiped at her eye. "Josh, I love you. You don't know how hard it was for me to admit that at first, even to myself. I've been so scared that eventually I was going to hurt you and lose you, and I don't want that." "You don't have to worry about that." I got it out before she could stop me again. She smiled, more tears sparkling in her eyes under the flashing red light. "I know. I know that now. After tonight...I feel like that was the last boundary, you know? The last thing that could possibly have happened that might have done it, and it's over, and you're still here." She leaned back into my arm. "I'm still here," I agreed, "and I still love you. And I always will." And then it was three times in one night, and she didn't fight it that time. And her third cry ended with our second coupling, right there on the patio bench, only we didn't fuck then. I made love to my beloved Sarah, and it was better than any nasty fuck session we'd ever shared. I should explain that to you, because in reading this tale you might think that we have wild and crazy sex every single day. We don't, not hardly. We have a lot of sex, and yes, come to think of it, I'm fairly certain that we've done it at least once on every single day since we met, almost three years ago. But it's not always wild fuck sessions, and it's not always with my nasty little slut Sarah. As often as not it's like it was on that patio: just two people who truly love each other, expressing those feelings. It's soft touches and tender caresses, rather than hard pumping and dirty talking. It's slow and easy in the bedroom, and not hard and fast against the kitchen counter. It's drawing passion from each other and from our mutual love, and not getting turned on by talking about some other guy she's just fucked. Sarah does fuck a lot of other guys--generally at least one new one every week. But she only makes love to one man. When we finally went inside we found Gustav snoring in a most unEuropean fashion, sound asleep in his giant bed. The alcohol had mostly bled out of our systems at this point, but that, along with the late hour and our intense emotional discussion, combined to leave us far too exhausted to even contemplate driving home. Sarah assured me that it was okay, and so we tiptoed into the guest bedroom (yes, Gustav's hotel suite actually had a guest bedroom, I shit you not) and fell asleep on the more customary king size bed in there. I woke up early the next morning, Sarah shifting slightly but not waking when I carefully pulled myself out of bed. I got my job straight out of college, so at that point I had been working the same crappy job for the same shitty company for more than 6 years. That morning, I did something I had never once done in that entire span--I called out, sick. After I'd made the necessary call to the necessary boss, I sat down on the couch, not wanting to wake Sarah just yet. I thought a lot, about the events of the previous evening, yes, but more about the long talk that we had shared out on the patio. I realized then that our relationship had passed a final boundary in more ways than just what Sarah had mentioned. It wasn't just that we had hurdled the final obstacle that she saw, or that now she no longer had to feel even an iota of guilt or nervousness about what she did or what she might do--it was also that she had dropped her final barrier to me. There was nothing hidden between us anymore, nor would there ever be again. Yes, there were small details of our prior lives which we had not yet gotten around to mentioning, but those only because we hadn't had the time together, or because they were so inconsequential as to not be *worth* mention. There were no more deep secrets, there would be no more hidden feelings, doubts or fears. Maybe some of you have never been in a relationship like that, and I hope that you eventually find it if that's the case. Because it's the most wonderful feeling in the world, believe me; when you finally realize that no matter what, you have one person that you can always talk to about absolutely anything, and whom you know will do the same with you. It's a bond so strong that, as corny and cliche' as it sounds, two people become as one. And it bleeds over into the rest of your life, too--nothing else that happens around you feels so bad anymore, because you know that nothing else can ever take away what you have waiting for you, back at home. If you lose your job, if your friends walk away from you, if someone drops a penny off the Empire State Building and it smacks into your skull and a paralyzes you, it's okay. You'll still have your love, and you'll still draw happiness from it. I was interupted from my thoughts when Gustav came staggering into the room, trying to stretch off the effects of last night. "Coffee?", he asked me. I nodded and watched as he flipped on the machine, the rich aroma of a blend that I was quite certain appeared in no "gourmet" coffee shop penetrating the room and making the morning a bit less of a struggle. He handed me a cup a few minutes later, dropping down beside me on the couch, a thick white robe draped over his body. "All is good with Sarah," he said, only his eyes hinting that it could possibly be a question. "Yeah. We're fine." I hadn't expected him to even mention the possibility. "I tell you this now: that I will not see her again if that is your wish." He even looked like he meant it. "That's not necessary, Gustav. She's free to do whatever she wants, with whomever she wants." He studied me for a long moment, in the unnerving way that only he can. He just stares at you, his face blank, barely even blinking. "This is true," he said, again meaning it as a question. I struggled to find an analogy that a self-proclaimed art "expert" might understand. "It's true," I finally told him. "A woman like Sarah...she's like a beautiful painting, a Picasso or a Rembrandt." He nodded. "Changing the way that Sarah is, it would be like buying a Picasso and burning it in your cellar, so that nobody else could ever enjoy its beauty. But you don't do that, because you want the rest of the world to enjoy it, too; you'd feel badly if you deprived everyone else of something so beautiful. I love Sarah, and I know that she loves me, and I can't hide her beauty from you or anyone else. I wouldn't want to, even if I could." He nodded slowly. "She does love you, this I know." And I nodded in turn, and we sat there in silence for some time, him still staring at me in his eerie manner. "I think you are good man, Joshua," he finally told me. That's the way that Gustav is--he'd never heard me called Joshua, and nobody else has ever called me that anyway, not since grade school. But he has to use a person's full name when he speaks to them. "I think you are good man, Joshua," he repeated, "and I think that Sarah, she had made the right choice." I had no idea what to say to that, unexpected as it was. He stared at me for another minute or two as I tried to think of something, and then finally smiled widely. "Come," he said as he stood quickly, "let us order food!" When Gustav let the room service attendant in about 45 minutes later, he was greeted with the sight of Sarah's naked body riding me with a fury. I had watched her with Gustav last night, she'd told me, so it was his turn to watch us. And Sarah, being Sarah, took the waiter's presence simply as a bonus. For a while after I officially moved in, we had a regular voyeur. You see, Sarah's building is an old one--it's been renovated many times and so is quite nice both inside and out, but it dates back to an era before the huge apartment buildings which have since become the norm in the city. It's 6 stories high, with 4 dwellings per floor. We live on the second floor, in a unit on the front side of the structure. There are similar apartments all around us, and our street is a mere four lane roadway, two of the lanes constantly occupied by parked cars. And directly across the street from us, with perhaps 40 feet between our windows, we discovered a neighbor who made excellent use of the fact that Sarah had never even bothered to hang curtains. He appeared to be single, or at least we never saw evidence of a wife or family, and Sarah really got off on fucking near the windows (with the lights on, of course) whenever we knew that he was likely to be home. Coupled with the fact that she rarely bothered with clothes of any kind when she was just sitting around the house, our voyeur probably saw my girlfriend naked almost as often as I did. One day I was sitting in my cubicle, silently willing the building to explode when I went out to lunch, when the phone rang. I answered and heard Sarah's voice, obviously excited. "Hi baby...I just wanted to call and tell you that I'm being really bad right now." Oh? If she wanted to grab my attention, it worked. "What are you doing?" "I'm standing in front of the living room window. I'm naked, of course, and I'm fucking myself. Our neighbor is watching from across the street." "What are you using?" Sarah doesn't own any toys. In fact, the only times she ever masturbates are as part of sex, or when she's being watched. Whenever she feels the need for an orgasm otherwise, she just gets fucked. "A coke bottle. Plastic, the kind with the curves." She groaned as she said it. "Damn, baby." "Mmmmm yeah. He's standing right there in his window, staring at me. Hang on." I heard her grunt. "Okay, I raised my leg so he could see it going in better." "Jesus." She laughed softly. "He's just wearing boxers and a shirt. He's really hard, too--I can see it sticking out." "He's not the only one." Not by a long shot. "Mmmmm. Can you do anything about that?" I didn't have an office, just one of many cubicles on a huge floor. Taking my cock out and stroking myself to orgasm wasn't even an option. "Uhhh...no." She knew why. "I figured. It's a shame, though. I'm so fucking wet right now." "I'd hope so--those bottles aren't that small." A giggle. "It feels so good, though. Oh fuck, he just took his cock out baby! He's stroking it while he watches me fuck myself!" "Big one?" I knew what she liked. She paused for several loud grunts, and I could tell she was really ramming that bottle home. "Kind of...kind of average, I guess. It's hard to tell from here. Fuck, he probably can't see me too well either; I wish he had binoculars or something." That's my slut. "He can tell what you're doing, though." "Yeah, he can tell." Her voice held a playful tone, and I could picture her smiling across at him as they masturbated together. "I can't wait to get you home tonight, baby. I'm gonna fuck you sooooo good." "I can't wait either." Duh! Another soft laugh. "I feel like doing something really wild tonight." "Like what?" "I don't know," she teased. "I'll think of something. I want to fuck him, baby. Can I go over there and fuck him now?" She didn't need to ask, but I knew she only did it because it sounded dirtier to beg me to let her fuck another man. "Yeah. Do it." I could hear her smile through the line. "I'm gonna fuck him good, baby. Think about that while you're at work for the rest of the day." She grunted again. "Think about your loving slut of a girlfriend across the street, his cock ramming into me over and over again, fucking me so good." I listened to her moaning as she jammed the bottle in and out of her cunt. "I will." God, I would! "Good," she breathed. "He's gonna be fucking me in every hole, Josh--my mouth, my cunt, my ass. I'm going to show him just how big a slut I can be, and then I'm going to fuck the shit out of you as soon as you get home." "That sounds good, Sarah." A coworker was walking by. "Okay, I'm going to go fuck him now before he cums. I love you, baby." "I love you, too." "Mmmmmm, bye." I was in a daze for the rest of the day, thinking about her walking over to that guy's apartment and fucking him senseless all afternoon long. I knew she was doing it, too; she'd throw on some skimpy little dress or maybe just a short t-shirt, run across the street to his door, and strip it off the instant he opened it to her knocks. I had a raging hardon the entire afternoon. When 5 o'clock finally came, the elevator to the parking garage seemed incredibly slow, and the traffic seemed worse even than normal. I was panting when I finally reached our doorstep, both from having run from my car and from sheer excitement. When I went to put my key into the doorknob, the door flung open suddenly and Sarah came crashing out against me. Naked. Not a stitch of clothing on her body, not even shoes. She pushed me away from the door as it swung shut behind her, forcing my back against the stairwell railing while she tugged my jacket off of my shoulders. "God I want you, Josh," she panted, perching on her bare toes to kiss me hungrily. Before I knew it, my coat jacket was fluttering down to the ground floor below us, Sarah's naked body pressed tightly against me. "Sarah! Someone's going to see us!!" It was about 5:45 PM, right in the heart of the prime time for city residents to finally arrive back home, after a hard day of work and a grueling commute. She broke the kiss long enough to smile devilishly at me. "I know. At least, I hope so." Her hands lept to my belt, opening my slacks in a flash and diving inside after my erection. "What's the matter, Josh?", she teased. "Don't you want the neighbors to see what a hot little slut you live with?" I didn't mind that so much as the thought that one of them might call the cops, but it's hard to argue with a naked woman when her face is bobbing back and forth on your cock. Remember the description of our building, though--we lived on the 2nd of 6 floors, 4 apartments per story. That meant that almost anyone who walked through the entryway door below *would* end up having to walk right past us in order to get home. Sarah sucked me for a couple of minutes before she got impatient and tugged me downward, my pants dropping down to my ankles before my bare ass hit the floor above the top step of the first flight of stairs. She straddled my lap with cat-like agility, facing away from me as she preferred, her eyes pointed down towards the building's foyer while she lowered herself onto my stiff cock. She moaned loudly as I penetrated her, rapidly forcing her body lower until I was buried to the balls in her steaming cunt. But she wasn't bucking up and down rapidly, slamming me home as was her norm; she was just sitting there immobile, squeezing me slowly with the muscles inside her pussy. When she finally did start moving again it was slow, painfully slow. "Why so slow, baby? Did that guy wear you out?" She breathed a throaty laugh. "I have to go slow, to make sure we don't finish before someone comes in." Fuck, she was serious about being seen! I knew that very moment that it wasn't a question of if one of our neighbors would end up walking right up to us as she rode me, naked--it was *when* it would happen. My Sarah is such a nasty slut! That thought alone pushed away the fears of police intervention. I have no idea how long she kept slowly sliding up and down my shaft. It seemed like a half an hour at least, but in reality it was probably only about 5 minutes. Anyway, that's when I heard the main door opening below us, and Sarah picked up her movement slightly, moaning loudly while knowing that our discovery was imminent, as if urging our mystery neighbor on. I heard the footsteps pause for a moment as he certainly heard her moan, then nervously restart. His face appeared at the bottom of the stairs, staring at us in open shock as Sarah continued to ride me, staring right back at him. She was moaning more now, uttering little things like "it feels so good" and "fuck my wet cunt, baby." I'd seen this particular neighbor before, but we'd never spoken. When you live in the city, everybody just kind of keeps to themselves; I had exchanged perhaps 10 words total with all of our neighbors since I'd moved in, never more than a simple "hello" if we chanced to meet on the stairwell. Somehow that didn't seem like an appropriate thing to say at this point. He slowly lifted his foot and placed it on the next step, as if having to will his body to perform such a simple action. He kept it up, rising one agonzing step at a time while his eyes remained locked on my naked, slutty girlfriend fucking me. He made it to about 4 steps below us. "You can fuck me next, if you want." She was still riding me, watching our watcher and making it obvious how much she loved his presence. I had no doubt that she meant what she said, either. I guess that finally panicked the poor guy. He blinked in amazement, shook his head quickly, and darted around us, practically running up the next flight of stairs. We heard a door close two floors above us a moment later. "I'm gonna cum, baby!" She yelled it, and then started screaming as she followed through on her pledge, her cunt muscles bearing down hard on my cock. She was still cumming when another face appeared below us. "Oh, FUCK!!!" Her cry echoed off the stairwell walls when she saw him and launched into a second orgasm. Sarah rarely cums in rapid succession like that, and only when she's getting off in a huge way on one of her slutty trips. Like then. It was a younger guy this time, perhaps 17 or 18; I think he lived with his parents on the top floor. He just stood there openmouthed while Sarah slammed up and down on my rod and screamed out her orgasm. He made no move forward nor back, rooted to the spot. Sarah got control of herself, slowing again just as I was almost ready to shoot inside of her. She leveled her eyes on our young voyeur, her legs still spread wide as my cock disappeared into her slit over and over again. "You can come closer," she told him. He did, slowly. He was scared, that much was obvious. Perhaps that I was going to jump up to kick his ass, maybe that it was some bizarre trick...I don't know. But her command and the sheer sexuality which Sarah exuded were too much for him to resist. "Do you like watching me?", she breathed. "Do you like seeing my boyfriend fuck me?" He nodded his head slowly, licking his lips in nervousness. "Does it get your cock hard?" Another nod, this one barely perceptible. "Take it out," she told him. He just stood there, both of us suprised at what she had said, but him far more so. She repeated her request. "Take it out. It's okay, I want to see it." He looked around pointedly, well aware that others could and probably would be entering and exiting the building at any moment. I wasn't sure what Sarah was trying to do, but the sheer audacity of her actions had me on the edge of orgasm. His hands finally made their way to the front of his jeans, shaking as he slowly undid the buttons of his fly. Sarah smiled as he did, licking her lips. "Mmmm yeah," she breathed. He looked around again and then seemed to mentally shrug, quickly yanking his erection out of his pants, the head bobbing and pulsing as it pointed towards where we fucked. "Oh, that's nice," Sarah cooed. "Would you like to stroke it for me? I want to see you stroke it while you watch me fucking." His cock wasn't that big, really--perhaps 5 inches in length and not particularly thick. I know, I know, but it's hard not to look, and what else was I going to do, stare at the ceiling? At any rate, once it was out he was much more malleable to Sarah's will, and he hardly hesitated before his hand was stroking slowly along his shaft. "Come closer," she urged him again. "I want you to do something for me." "W-what?" She flashed her sluttiest smile in his direction. "I want you to jack off while you look at me. And I want you to shoot your cum all over my face and tits." That was all it took. In a flash he was standing between our outstretched legs, whanking like his life depended on it while he stared at Sarah's cunt swallowing my shaft. Sarah leaned forward without missing a beat, her tongue darting out to lap at a string of precum which hung from his head, and just like that he was spraying. Ah, the virility of youth! He splattered her face, her neck, her chest, her tits, her stomach. What would have seemed a huge load for any two men came pulsing out of the boy's cock, Sarah moaning loudly as it rained down on her, her tongue darting out to lick some from her lips before she launched into another loud orgasm. When her cunt contracted on me again, that, combined with watching my slut in action, was all it took to launch me over the edge. I don't think I quite rivalled the youth in quantity, but as often as Sarah and I fucked, I was amazed at how much cum I shot into her spasming pussy. The kid flushed deeply as his orgasm petered off (pun intended) and rapidly stuffed his cock back into his pants, Sarah just leaning back against my body and running her hands through the sperm which coated her torso. She looked at him pointedly as she licked her fingers clean. He stammered out a "thank you" even as he was running up the stairs and out of sight. "God, that was great!", Sarah enthused when she finally raised herself up off my cock. "You were incredible, baby." "Mmmm, so were you. Shame more people didn't see it, though." She laughed softly. "We've always got our neighbor across the street," I told her as I stood and pulled my pants up and reached for the apartment key in the pocket. "He's got binoculars now, too," she giggled. "I bought him a pair after the second time he fucked me." She started down the stairs. "Where are you going?" "I dropped your jacket down there," she called up to me, the main door opening at just that instant. She stopped on the bottom step and perched there sexily for whomever had just walked in. I could only imagine what they thought upon seeing her hot, naked form at the base of the stairwell, a sheen of sweat and cum coating her upper body while her own juices lay smeared across her inner thighs. I wondered if any of my cum would be leaking from her gaping, recently-fucked cunt lips yet. "I just have to pick up his jacket," she said to the person as if her appearance were completely normal and she were explaining away dropped keys. Sarah strode around the corner and out of sight, walking under the staircase to recover my coat. I finally got to see the mystery neighbor then, a 40-ish brunette woman in business skirt and jacket. She clacked up the stairs on her short heels, shaking her head in disbelief but not entirely able to hide an amazed smile. The woman stopped at the top of the stairwell and turned to me as if to say something, but finally just shook her head again and continued on her way, Sarah strolling casually to my side a moment later. "Let's get inside," she urged me, "I want to let that guy test out the binoculars." That's my Sarah. <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. The post was sent as an email attachment and has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software. ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ -- 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 | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+