Message-ID: <45720asstr$1070629808@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Path: 53ab2750!not-for-mail From: Goldberry X-Original-Message-ID: Content-transfer-encoding: 7BIT NNTP-posting-date: Thu, 04 Dec 2003 23:31:44 MST User-Agent: Xnews/5.04.25 X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Fri, 05 Dec 2003 06:31:44 +0000 (GMT) Subject: {ASSM} New - Tom Bombadil - Amber Memories [ M/F, poetry, flash ] X-Original-Subject: {ASSM} New - Tom Bombadil - Date: Fri, 5 Dec 2003 08:10:08 -0500 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 New story from Tom Bombadil, posted with permission Goldberry Goldberry12spam@hotmail.spamcom (you can figure this out :) Emails to me or posts to ass.d will also be read by Tom. Enjoy! Amber Memories [ M/F, poetry, flash ] by Tom Bombadil (c) Nov 2003 Disclaimer: All the standard rules apply. If you are offended by explicit descriptions of sex or the human body, if it is illegal to possess such materials at your location, if you are under-age by law in your location, or if somebody else thinks you might have too much fun reading it, stop right now and remove this text from your computer. This is purely a work of fiction, with all characters and actions described by me coming straight out of my imagination. As a work of fiction, it does not condone or condemn any of the activities or actions described, nor does it relate to any type of real events in my life, or known to me in the lives of any of my friends or relatives. You've been warned. I give permission for anyone to share or archive this story. ******************************************************************** A fading ghost of a fire late in the evening. One gasp, then a second. Faint spears of moonlight through cracked blinds. Murmurs of appreciation. The freedoms of wine and the promises of oysters. A candle guttering in the corner. Creaks from the couch as bodies move slowly. Hand in glove; sugar and spice. Well-worn paths leading to familiar delights. Never perfect, always perfecting. Old joys remembered, old pains forgotten. Another gasp. Ever-changing landscapes as the journey continues. Mountains still to climb. Slow urgencies; quickening pulses. Discarded clothing wet in the sink. An owl hooting out in the night; unheard, unremembered. Deepening needs. Pale logs all around, reflecting amber light; knotted eyes watching mutely. Hand in glove; sugar and spice. A small gust of wind; crackles and sparks up the chimney. A bite on the shoulder. One dam giving way. Gentle avalanches. Sweat mingling with other fluids; urgency redoubled. Harsh breaths. Lost in the moment, lost to the world. Sweet agony sought and found. Waves rolling onto a pebbled shore; spray thrown high. Sighs and groans. A sudden chill; covers pulled close. Roses on silk on satin on velvet. Footsteps on a sandy beach, two paths intertwined. Wind erasing their memory. Hand in glove; sugar and spice. -- 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}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+