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From: jordan shelbourne
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X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Tue, 16 Sep 2003 23:48:49 -0700 (PDT)
Subject: {ASSM} FRIDAY 13th LXXXVIII (flash) {Shelbourne} MF
Date: Wed, 17 Sep 2003 07:10:03 -0400
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FRIDAY 13 LXXXVIII (300 words)
Copyright 2003 Jordan Shelbourne
Everybody knows if you have sex in a horror movie,
you die. People had died all around Veronica and
Henry.
Veronica was a slut. A grade-A, bona fide,
boned-inside, man-hungry, cock-hungry, come-hungry
slut. Henry didn't realize there were any girls his
age like that. Well, Veronica wasn't a girl: Veronica
was a woman.
When Veronica gave Henry the come-hither, emphasis
on come, he didn't think about the folks who had
died. He thought instead about the little death,
petit mort, and he found a way to be alone with
Veronica, though they were both supervised.
Nothing stimulates the creative juices like those
other juices.
Part of it was lust. Part was the lure of the
forbidden; Henry just wasn't supposed to do that
sort of thing.
They kissed, Veronica as eager as he was, eager to
have his mouth on hers, to have his hands on her
breasts, his weight on her body, his cock in her
hands, in her pussy. They had to hurry because they
might be discovered at any time, but they were both
ready. Both of them had been thinking about this
for a while.
Henry's fingers trembled as he stroked her nipples,
as he caressed her belly, as he felt her guide him
in.
He felt a fierce glee as he entered her, knowing that
he wasn't supposed to be doing this and was anyway.
It was independence: it was manhood. She gasped; he
groaned.
Henry fucked her hard, as hard as he could, as fast
as he could, as deep as he could, as long as he
could, until his heart gave out, and the nurses and
doctors came to take his corpse off poor Veronica.
Not for the first time in this retirement home.
Outside horror movies, you don't even need a monster.
=====
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