Message-ID: <46820asstr$1077527641@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: by_jane@literotica.org (jane) X-Original-Message-ID: <80045de.0402221849.74acaa78@posting.google.com> Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 23 Feb 2004 02:49:13 +0000 (UTC) X-ASSTR-Original-Date: 22 Feb 2004 18:49:12 -0800 Subject: {ASSM} Glimpses 16/94 by jane Lines: 156 Date: Mon, 23 Feb 2004 04:14:01 -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, hoisingr Author: jane Title: Glimpses 16/94 Summary: Tina shares her husband just for fun ... or for disaster. Keywords: none Length: 1039 words Copyright: c. 2004 *3 November 1996, Sunday* _just like that ... a game can change ... the rules can vary ... players come and go ... kids play like that ... the thing that comforts, that makes games fun, that makes us want to play them, the thing that makes games different from our lives? its just a horn that signifies an end ... fair or foul, win or lose or tie, games finish ... mother calls you in to supper and its done ... not like life at all ... northwestern illinois ..._ *§* Mai looked at Tina as startled as the deer caught suddenly in limbo. _She's frightened. I've never seen her fear. Is it Peter? He'll be more terrified than her if this comes off. He's such a pussycat. She seems defeated, totally resigned. Hard to think. The wine. She needs me. What to say? That this is just because we're acting crazy? Our love is something else. We're having fun. Don't worry._ Tina watched her husband lead her girlfriend into darkness toward the tent. There were no words to shout, no way to make her understand. _Alone with Douglas. Holy shit. I'm dizzy. Need to find a place to sit, a way to focus. Need to keep perspective._ She giggled at "perspective" for reasons secret to herself. She drifted in and out of stupor and watched her partner cautiously. Doug tipped the dishwater to douse the fading fire, then vanished in a cloud of white and flying embers. _Peek a boo, he's back._ He covered glowing sticks with earth for safety, then appeared like magic at her side. He put his hands upon her shoulders and guided her against his hardness. Tina blinked. His lips rolled over hers. _My God! Relax. Don't panic. This'll be alright._ His hands slid down inside her jeans. "They must be settled now. Let's go get warm," he said. Soon canvas brushed her face. She let herself be pulled inside the tent's black cavern. She heard him, Peter, to her left, with Mai. Strong arms around her moved her to the right. Douglas peeled her clothing from her unresisting body, wilted from the wine. Cold. She shivered. She heard the rustle of his shirt and pants, the chatter of dry leaves in wind outside the tent, the sound her husband's body made when turning on the bed. She smelled the campfire smoke and Peter's aftershave. _Oh shit, what's happening? Can't think. Can't quite remember._ Brawny hands she'd once invented, once said she'd fancy, pressed her down into the flannel of the bag, stronger than the press of Peter. _He'll do it all. He'll call the shots, for sure._ He placed her trembling hand on his erection. _Or did I reach for him? Am I returning kisses?_ He rubbed her fingers on the ripple of his abs. Her body did betray her. In the end, it woke her and demanded closure to their week of sexy games. But what excited most? Relentless pressure from above her? Douglas? Or was it Peter's panting just behind her, his music played by someone new? She strained to hear a whimper, anything from Mai, a movement she could say for sure was hers. Nothing. Mai was there. She had to be. Tina's mind divided. Sometimes Peter. Sometimes squalls of flesh that rained upon her thighs and chest from Doug twisted, painfully, a nipple, drove against her clit. She arched her back and rocked her hips to meet him. Sometimes she thought of Mai. She came. _What time is it? Maybe close to dawn? Fuck, tents are black inside. I'm so exhausted. The air out here, I guess. The wine. The hike, of course. And cumming. Relax is all. Just get some sleep._ She'd heard a muffled word or two from Peter. She'd heard familiar noises as he spent. It wasn't long till both the men were sleeping loudly. Nothing signalled Mai. Doug rolled away from her and took away his warmth. She let him. _Freaking cold, the night. Relax. Just sleep. She hasn't made a peep. Reach out and touch her. Find her in the dark. Make sure that she's okay? But what if she found Peter by mistake? What if Doug woke up? What if just one touch would lead to more?_ Mai didn't make a single sound at all that night, no moan nor sigh, no muffled cough nor snort. Tina would have heard her. *§* They stayed inside till nearly noon, listened to it drizzle on the tent. Sunday morning melancholy, they struggled to recuperate. At last, in too-bright light, they searched for articles of clothing, the shreds of dignity they'd lost the night before. Conversations died in vitro, as if the foursome lacked a label for their present situation. They eulogized the deer and cursed the weather. They looked each other in the feet or in the naval. They made their trips, alone, across wet lawns to use the toilets. They, in the end, gave up and opted for Chicago. After loading up the Saab, they found a small cafe in town. The Sunday buffet crowd was leaving, suits and dowdy dresses giving ground to let them through the door. "You must be campers," the waitress filled their cups before she took their orders, looked with pity on their wet, bedraggled hair. "We were lucky," Tina offered. "At least, the rain held off until today." "The opposite of yesterday." Peter, next to Tina in the booth, pressed his leg to hers. _Say what? Forgiveness? We can't settle this right now._ "Early start, anyway. Beat the traffic through the Loop." "Right, Doug," said Peter glumly. "Something anyway. Could be worse." "I am cold," said Mai. "I look forward to your afghan, Tina." "I'll keep you warm this time." Douglas didn't smile. Food and further refills saved them. It was shortly after two when they were finally on the road, rolling east on sixty-four. The seating, as projected, reformed the couples, re-pledged fidelity, re- drew the borders of the photographs they'd taken. Mai feigned a nap behind the silken blanket. The others chatted up the new apartment. They talked as if their journey hadn't changed them, as if the game was over, as if they'd all remain the same. This story cannot be reposted or published without the author's permission. All comments and queries can be addressed to by_janeNO@SPAMliterotica.org by deleting the capital letters before sending. -- 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}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+