Message-ID: <44340asstr$1063847402@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Message-ID: <20030917161459.8312.qmail@web12103.mail.yahoo.com> From: Peter Principle MIME-Version: 1.0 X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Wed, 17 Sep 2003 09:14:59 -0700 (PDT) Subject: {ASSM} Marking Territory (MF) {Peter Principle} Date: Wed, 17 Sep 2003 21:10:02 -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, hecate Copyright 2003 (c) by Peter Principle (PeterPrin@yahoo.com) Marking Territory (by Rosemary Hips) We heard them before we saw them. Bill and I had arrived at the Garden Kai condo in Wailea in the early afternoon, antsy from the hours in the airplane and sticky from the ninety minutes of driving in the Maui heat and humidity. It was a familiar route, this being our third trip in three years to the same condo. Our first visit had been less than a month after we'd moved in together. This vacation was becoming our anniversary of sorts, except this time our relationship was seriously waning and we both sensed it was probably our last trip together. Twenty minutes after we checked in at the main office, we were parked at our unit, had mostly unpacked, and were heading out the door to the beach. We soaked up a good three hours of sun and salt water before the daily rain squall showed up and gave us an excuse to clean up for dinner. By tradition we ate that first night a few miles up the road at a small restaurant in Kihei, getting reacquainted with fresh mahi-mahi and ahi, and avoiding any substantive communication. The traveling and the time change had taken a toll, and by 9 o'clock we were back at the condo and ready for an early bedtime. In all our passes in and out of the condo that day and evening, it was apparent that the adjoining ground-level unit was dark and unoccupied. The two units on the second floor appeared to be in use, but baring a flock of noisy toddlers or parentless teenagers, it was the adjacent condo unit that would most affect us because our two units shared a common patio garden just outside our livingrooms. Before bed we treated ourselves to quick showers to freshen ourselves up -- to "get the stink off," as my father used to say -- and we slipped into bed before 9:30. Though we may have been passionless, we were still patterned. We made love in the flickering light of the muted television, starting hesitantly and finishing perfunctorily fast and together. By 9:45 we were sweaty again and the mute was off. We still hadn't said much to each other. Not long after 10 o'clock we heard activity next door, complete with slamming doors and excited chatter. It was a couple, a man and a woman, and their flutter of traffic in and out their front door suggested they were bringing suitcases in from their car in the parking lot. No sooner had we turned off our television than theirs came on. We could hear them talking to each other over the newscaster, their words indistinct, as they went about their nighttime bathroom rituals. And then they went to bed. Their television went off. And their moaning began. They had playful sex. We just listened to them through the wall from those few short feet away. Listened to the giggles and the soft moans. The delicious silences. The groans. The woman was vocal in both sounds and words, urging him on with low-pitched guttural grunts and occasional high-pitched squeals. As their fever pitch rose, so did her profanity, with gasping shrieks of "Oh fuck! Fuck! FUCK!" From him we only heard muffled words and heavy grunts. She came first, her voice rising to an almost inaudible pitch as the headboard thumps accelerated. My head was spinning, imagining her slippery cunt clutching at his cock as he drove into her, hitting his own peak a few seconds later, complete with a sudden silence of their bed and his loud, joyful exhaling grunts. It left me with a pounding heart and a wet pussy, and a reminder of how exciting good sex could be. The next morning Bill left to make his early tee time. I lazed in bed, then later enjoyed the peace and quiet of the patio with my coffee and my vacation ritual of fingernail and toenail polish. I did my toes first. I was engrossed in slathering on the slow-drying fire engine red polish to my fingernails, when behind me I heard the adjoining unit's glass patio door slide open. I didn't have to turn around and look. I knew who it was. "Hey, Jackie," he said, with a casual nonchalance that didn't improve my irritation at him. "How was your flight? Where's Bill?" "Hey yourself. He's golfing. Where's the Screamer?" My eyes remained steadfastly focused on my fingernails. I needed another layer, I thought to myself. "She's over at the Intercontinental," he replied, "getting a massage." "Don't tell me you strained her back last night." "Oh Jackie, don't be jealous." He had moved to stand directly behind my chair. His hands found my shoulders. "You and I have been planning this for six months. Don't spoil things now." I sighed and plopped the bottle of polish on the small round table next to me. I lowered my head, closed my eyes, and let him try to appease me with his strong hands. "You didn't have to be so noisy, you know." "I'm sorry, baby," he said with a soothing voice. "She gets that way." "Uh huh." I wasn't going to make it easy on him. His hands left my shoulders and meandered lightly across my breasts, braless and soft underneath my cotton shirt. My nipples hardened almost instantly. They always did. He pinched them, and I stifled an urge to moan. Leaning forward, his lips nuzzled the side of my neck as his hands slipped lower, inside the loose elastic waistband and homing in on my furry mound, gently scratching. "Jimmy," I murmured, "sometimes you can be such an asshole." I spread my legs in surrender. His fingers split me, teased my slick folds, smearing my slipperiness until I was yawning wide and ready. My head leaned back against his chest and slowly rocked back and forth. "Stand up." It was more a direction than an order. I stood. He led me by the elbow through the door to my living room, turned me around at the couch, and gently pushed me down. I lay back, looking at his dark green eyes. I was starting to breathe harder. His fingers latched onto my shorts and pulled them off without the slightest hesitation. I sprawled my legs apart, my left up on the back of the couch, the right bent at the knee to put my right foot flat on the floor. I saw his eyes stare at my crotch. I felt open, exposed. Juicy. Seductive. I resisted the urge to look anywhere but his eyes. I always loved the way his eyes desired me, consumed me. My clit twitched endlessly. He licked his lips and shucked his shorts, and I caught a glimpse of his upward curving flesh. I kept twitching. I wanted to be fucked. He was inside me in an instant, exquisitely rigid, his steel-hard cock jammed so deep inside me that I felt it driving at my heart. He wasn't in the mood for lazy, slippery stokes. He wanted to take me, possess me with the strength of his body and the lewd stirring stretchings of his penis. "Oh God, oh God," was all I could manage, writhing in his grasp. His little primal grunts drove me forward. I was his, and he knew it. I clutched my knees beside my breasts, silently begging for more, and harder, and deeper. My body opened for him, surrendered to him. He drove into me, stretching my cunt left and right, up and down, "Oh God, Oh God" was all I could pant moistly into his ear. It never took long with him. He knew my body so well. He knew how to linger, how to race ahead. Knew what I wanted, sometimes even before I knew it myself. That morning he knew I wanted just to get fucked. He stabbed roughly into me, scrubbing against my inflamed clit and nudging the high end of my vagina in just the right way, and the explosions rippled through my pelvis. I exhaled my throaty grunts as I pulsed around his impaled hardness. I looked up at him with leadened eyes. He had a grin on his face as he swirled in me, not letting my orgasm die a quick death. I panted for him, trying to speak but failing to utter a single coherent word. I was lost in his body. His was lost in mine. Eventually I found enough control of my vocal chords to repeat my refrain, "Oh God," and Jimmy began his determined thrusts that I knew would lead to only one conclusion. I rocked under him, helping him along. It was an unnecessary act. He was more than ready to be dragged over the cliff with me. Jimmy gave out a guttural moan and, with a few final quick plunges to finish his sprint, he jammed his cock into my snug welcome and froze. I released my knees and clung to him with all my strength, holding him tight against me and deep inside, rejoicing in that magical second when you're both suspended in time and share but one joined flesh. Then his cock jumped and his body shuddered. He moaned, again and again with each jet, and I only clenched him tighter and deeper, unwilling and unable to let him go. Three, four, five delicious spurts kept filling me. My mouth found the meaty muscle of his upper shoulder, and my bared teeth pressed against his salty skin and paused. For a brief moment I considered biting down, leaving my toothmarks for his other woman to ponder. Instead, with a silent chuckle, as his cock continued to splash into me, I smeared my still-wet red fingernail polish across his shoulderblades, leaving my mark where he wouldn't likely notice. I knew he wouldn't complain if I embraced him long enough for it to dry. He was mine. __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Yahoo! SiteBuilder - Free, easy-to-use web site design software http://sitebuilder.yahoo.com -- 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: Moderators: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |ASSM Archive at Hosted by | |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+