Message-ID: <46506asstr$1075979404@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: by_jane@literotica.org (jane) X-Original-Message-ID: <80045de.0402041937.1077c566@posting.google.com> Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit NNTP-Posting-Date: Thu, 5 Feb 2004 03:37:15 +0000 (UTC) X-ASSTR-Original-Date: 4 Feb 2004 19:37:15 -0800 Subject: {ASSM} Glimpses 03/94 by jane Lines: 214 Date: Thu, 5 Feb 2004 06:10:04 -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: hecate, dennyw Author: jane Title: Glimpses 03/94 Summary: A kinky fantasy turns serious for Tina. Keywords: none Length: 1313 words Copyright: c. 2004 *31 August 1996, Saturday - part one* _how marsha spent her first two days alone, she never told me ... i could guess ... i could fabricate ... lets see ... something wild about those neighbours ... or not ... maybe quinn dropped by and took her to the park for nothing very sexy ... but no, by starting out with lies so soon, youll find me out before its over ... id better stick to what i know for certain ... ... ill introduce christina ... show the simple twist that got things started there, that changed her fate ... what set the course for things to come ... chicago ..._ § "Give! Tell me how you'd do it. Give a pick-up line for Mai," Christina teased her husband gently. Her straight blonde hair fanned out across their bed in slits of early morning sunlight flooding through the blinds. She raised her head and pillowed it onto her hand. She waited for the blush to spread across his jaw and down his neck onto his naked body Peter stretched. He was an awkward, lanky person, prone to stumbling if a chair was not pushed in or if a sidewalk tile was raised. Intense, blue eyes did not provide a warning of the cracks and less-than-even edges life created, not until they'd tripped him up or barked his shin or bruised him. "I've no idea. Tell me how you'd get to Douglas, first." _Predictable. You play that way._ Sometimes it irked; sometimes it was his charm. She smoothed a hand across her satin negligee, across her heaving bosom, then nestled into him. "Okay. I'll start. No way I'll let you chicken out, though, after." Peter smiled. The formula held true. Doug and Peter worked together at an office in the Loop. They'd started it, with double dates to plays and concerts, sometimes at the U. of C. where Mai, Doug's girlfriend, worked. The couples liked a game of cards or Scrabble, a meal together, a weekend hike or camping trip. The friendship grew two years without a complication until at home, one Sunday night, post-swim and drinks and barbecue, Tina tantalized her husband with a praise of Mai's bikini. Peter said he hadn't noticed it at all, then under cross-examination, said he'd never fantasized her slim brown legs or dreamed her breasts or more. He'd said he didn't know the colour of her Asian eyes, said he didn't care. Adamant, he'd pleaded ignorance till Tina hatched her plan. To compromise his shyness, Tina told him tales about admiring Douglas' body. She'd told her husband how the bulge in Douglas' shorts aroused her, even called it an obsession. She told him that she'd dreamed about it. She'd asked Peter for forgiveness, knowing it had turned him on. She'd coddled him with pleas. _How's his penis look? Ever watch him peeing? What about the change room after tennis?_ Then she'd shocked him: _I wonder how'd it taste compared to yours._ They'd had some harmless fun. She'd set the boundaries of a game for two that spiced their love life and had overcame his fears. "Promise," he confirmed. "The play last night? The second act? While Nora and Torvald were going on and on about the obvious ..." "Right." "Boring. Anyway. I'm there between the two of you. I get this plan. What if ... The more I think, the more I have to try it out." "Try what?" "I'd let my program drop. Like accidentally. In Douglas' lap. Right when Nora tries to hide the letter. The dance. Just let it slip. Then reach for it." Tina laid her hand on Peter's hairy thigh. "But miss the paper, though. I'd feel him up." She nudged his swelling member. "No way." "Hold it for a sec. Then act embarrassed. Say, 'Oh, sorry.'" "Not! You wouldn't have. What stopped you?" "I came that close. I almost let it slip. I peeked. There's Mai. All smiles. Just like she's read my mind." Peter groaned. "I should've anyway. I panicked. You think they would've freaked? It had to seem completely accidental." Tina grasped the stiffened penis. "Or not. You liked that plan. You'd love to watch me touching him." She slid her fingernail around the oily drop that signalled his arousal. "Or are you dreaming of him touching _me?_ You'd like to watch that, Peter?" "You're wicked, Tina." "That's why you married me. Your turn. You promised." "It won't top yours." He rolled to face her, placed his hand upon her summer-freckled shoulder. "'Member in the restaurant booth? We're both together. I'm across from Mai." "Go on." She pictured Peter, cramped, his legs so long they'd come in contact with her friend's from time to time. "My knee rubbed hers. I couldn't help it. She didn't pull away. Just let them touch. Pretended not to notice." "She wanted you." "Maybe." "You reached for her? Below the table? She took your hand and pushed it up her dress?" Tina's blue-grey eyes grew wider as she circled Peter's penis with her thumb and index finger, slowly pushing up the shaft. "God, that's nice." "She did?" "You're evil, Tina." His fingers found a satin covered breast, found a nipple hard against the sheen. "Am I supposed to finish?" "Yes." "I look at her. She's staring back. She's smiling. Like she's thinking exactly what I'm thinking now." "What are you thinking, Peter?" "You know." "Pretend that Doug and I weren't there. Pretend it's just you two. Give me details." Tina slid her body lower on the bed, let her nightie catch along the sheets, ride up across her hips revealing skin and nothing more. "God, you're such a tease." She rolled between his legs, looked up at him with innocence. Still gripped his penis loosely. "Okay. I say: 'Move a little closer, Mai. Close enough for me to reach.'" "'Your arms are long, Peter.'" Tina mimed the stiffness of her friend's slow accent. "'How far is it that you would like to reach,' she'd say. Just like that." "So, I say: 'Far enough to feel if you're wet.' I'd start to slide my hand along her leg." Tina licked the length of Peter's bobbing flesh before she spoke. "She'd whisper. 'Do not be surprised. I did not wear panties this day, Peter.' I think she'd slide down lower in the seat for you and spread her legs a little wider. You're doing good. Keep it up." She fondled his erection. "You make it hard to concentrate. I say: 'Show me if you wore a bra.'" "'Unbutton here in public, Peter? You have made me so horny. Should I take a chance for you? You must do one favour first.'" "'Anything,' I'd say." Tina took all of him inside her mouth this time before she answered him as Mai. She sucked him slowly. Then slid her lips back off to say, "Mai smiles the way she does before she speaks. 'Peter, stick your finger up inside me now. Prease, to make me cum.'" Too much for Peter, he peeled the nightgown from her gentle curves, then pulled her firmly over him to find her mouth and thrust his hips between her spreading legs. Tina opened to him easily, alive with lubrication. But in her mind she still was Mai. Still pressed her smaller, darker body into his. Still played her part. Still led her husband down forbidden roads, until she finally came. Then in the quiet of their afterglow, a thought from somewhere deeper rose to consciousness. So clear and sudden Tina would remember time and place with certainty. She wasn't only in the role of Mai, but she'd been Peter just as much. The gentle grace, the elegance, Mai's wreath of coal black hair were in her warm embrace. Mai made her come. It was more than curiosity. A need. A seed sown accidentally. Now taken root and struggling to grow. -- 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}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+