Message-ID: <47174asstr$1079752204@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-To: ckought69@hotmail.com Delivered-To: ckought69@hotmail.com X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: by_jane@literotica.org (jane) X-Original-Message-ID: <80045de.0403180754.6b33bb34@posting.google.com> Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit NNTP-Posting-Date: Thu, 18 Mar 2004 15:54:21 +0000 (UTC) X-ASSTR-Original-Date: 18 Mar 2004 07:54:20 -0800 Subject: {ASSM} Glimpses 39/94 by jane Lines: 393 Date: Fri, 19 Mar 2004 22:10:04 -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: hoisingr, dennyw Author: jane Title: Glimpses 39/94 Summary: Marsha and I team up to do some mischief. Keywords: none Length: 2395 words Copyright: c. 2004 *25 May 1997, Sunday* _she blamed herself for being weak, for giving in to me ... thats what she told me when we met ... she closed her hotmail addy ... hoped that andrew wouldnt tell ... she used her mothers famous quotes ... chickens home to roost and from the pan into the fire ... thats anna ... i could have told her not to worry, that he would never spill ... not because he loved her ... not because he cared about his pen ... because hed lose his power ... because he was a charlatan ... a coward ... she thought that luck was with her ... but annas kind of luck ... 'get lucky' ... ah, of course to some it means 'get laid' ... without much thought of tenderness, perhaps ... without much need of love ... something very simple, just a fuck ... but lucks not like that really, not in manitoba, not in anywhere i know ... toronto ..._ *§* To mollify Aunt Rose they suffered through a mass that Sunday morning. _Mom looks a little sheepish. She owes me big time now. She knows it, too. For forcing me to go._ They trudged through Allan Gardens afterwards to whet their appetites for Sunday brunch, a place her aunt remembered way back when. _This is going to be expensive, Lib. I won't be doing dishes for a year. Some little family do? Bec would paint it with a parasol and grass too yellow to be real. Where are you Bec? What are you doing now? This sec? Maybe if I risked a call? Tuesday school. Holy shit, the time is dragging. Two more days will take forever. A quiet Sunday afternoon with Rose? Oh, no._ Jennifer and Marsha participated. They were seen not heard. It seemed in keeping with the holiday, roles that Queen Victoria approved: pitching in with supper, taking on assignments without a pout or whine. They did dessert all by themselves - except for Rose's helpful, "Just a smidgen more. Not too much! You'll spoil it." They didn't sneer or slouch. They made their mothers proud. Then after supper, when all the dinnerware was cleared, Aunt Rose suggested going to the "cinema". Marsha drew the line. "You'd have more fun without us. Jen would rather listen to her new CDs, I bet. Your last night here? Go out and have some fun with Mom." "No, come," Rose pleaded. Jenny turned her nose up slightly. "They'll be fine here, Rose." Libby must have known how thin she'd stretched her daughter's patience. "Mom's right. You go." Jenny's grin convinced them. Within the hour, Marsha saw them off and teased them one more time about the kind of guys they ought to score. She told them, "Mind the gap," and, "Don't have too much fun," before she closed the door and shared a giggle with her cousin. "That was close." "I really didn't wanna go." "What a retro day? Mom says to finish off the wine." She led her cousin to the kitchen and poured them both a glass. "You online back home?" "Yeah. But, one computer. Everybody shares." "Mine's upstairs. You surf? Oh, wow! I bet you've surfed for real." "Yeah. Just twice. It's cold there. Ya' need a suit." "Bring your glass. We'll _safari_." "We'll what?" "Joke. Mom's music." Marsha led her through the clutter of her room and booted up while imitating Rock. "I bet you chat." "Not much. Mom checks the files." "I'll show you how to hide them." The browser growled and beeped politely while pulling into traffic. "Buckle up. It's cyber space." "Cool." The graphic showed two women, lips and breasts joined lightly. Marsha didn't look at Jen. She kept her eyes right on the screen, but felt her cousin's blush. She logged without a hesitation, surfcity_f. "That's you." Marsha didn't give her time to catch her breath. "Let's see who bites. Oh, wait." Then Marsha tapped the keys to enter, "That you Jane? It's Marsha, horny_teen." "marsha in toronto? how are you, love ..." "This is wild, Jen. I know her. We chatted here before. She's like old, but hot. Just see what's on her mind, okay? You type." Marsha pushed the keyboard to her guest. Jen pushed it back. "I'll watch." "Relax. It's only talking." Then Marsha typed, "I'm fine. My friend's here too. What's up? "a friend! thats great ... please introduce us ... whats she like? describe her ... please ..." "Don't," from Jennifer. "Just say anything. You tell me what." "I dunno. Be careful." Marsha laughed, then wrote, "Awesome, Jane. Jennifer. My cousin from the Coast. Long black hair. Brown eyes. Like unreal shy. 13 and cool." "and? keep going ..." "You're such a perv! Okay. Big tits. Nice ass. Okay?" Then aloud, "Hey! Ouch! That hurt." "Why'd you tell her that?" "Chill. She isn't stalking us, okay? I know her." Then she turned to face the screen and pressed the keys for, "She's so blushing now. She zipped. Not talking yet." "Not yet," said Jen. "We don't have to do this, y'know?" Marsha meant it as a question, but she knew before Jen answered there was little chance of, no. _Yeah, you're scared. I know. But this is chicken. You're not gonna flinch just yet. You're gonna show me you're a grown-up, aren't you, girl. What a trip!_ "It's okay. Just you talk first." "The pictures bug you?" A thin, weak laugh from Jen. "No, I'm cool. A _little_ weird." Marsha touched a strand of Jenny's hair and winked. Then she wrote to Jane once more, "Still me. She'll write you later. We're both in tees and jeans. Jen's smiling now. She thinks the jpeg is sexy." "id send you some of mine ... she up for that?" "I like your pics! Please send. Jen's breathless, too. LOL." "Not." "or something else tonight ..." jumped on the screen. "Ow. She's hitting me again. Like what? Truth or Dare?" Aloud, "Play a game?" "Okay." Jen drew out the word and shaped it into, maybe, curiosity and dread. "is jenny into that?" "She stopped hitting on my arm at least. That's something." "she has to promise to play fair ... the _truth_ no matter what ... here comes a pic ..." _How far will mousey let things drift? Seems more curious than shocked about the pictures._ Two women sitting on a park bench, naked to the waist, lips touching while their hands caressed each other's breasts. Jenny's eyes grew wide. "I'll try. Okay. Promise. _Weird._" Marsha wrote the message: "Jen's cool. Just go easy, eh? Hot pic! Send more! You start." "truth or dare, jennifer ... another picture coming..." Marsha stared at Jen, her eyebrows raised, waiting for some answer. "Truth? I dunno." "Jen says, T." "k ... lets go ... youre on your honour, love ... be honest, eh ..." She paused and then in sections horizontally across the screen: a pretty, young brunette, her face at rest along a lover's thigh, her tongue just inches from a fluff of pubic hair. "which one was best ... and why ..." "You better type this out yourself. Just chill." Marsha stood. "Go for it, girl." "I'll try." They traded places on the bedroom's only chair. Then slowly Jenny pecked out, "Hi. I'm Jennifer. I liked the last one best. She looks a little like my friend back home. I guess. Her face." "good answer, jen ... im glad you liked it ... now you ask Marsha ..." A pause. Marsha read the apprehension on her face. Reached down across her cousin's shoulder. Typed, "Marsha here. It'd be more fun if just you asked the questions. K?" A longer pause from Jane. "ok ... then t or d to marsha ..." "D." She grinned and waited for the fun. "ill make it easy, love ... brush jennys hair.. i dare you ... slowly ... as sexy as you can ... now let me talk to her ..." "It's me," Jen answered after they'd changed places, Marsha with the brush behind her. "More truth, I guess." The first long tugs against her cousin's hair were neutral. As the tangles freed themselves, Marsha slowed the strokes and petted, let the bristles soothe the scalp and comb the tensions from her neck. She used it like she would a stylus for moulding details in a sculpture. "this ones harder, jen ... tell about a time another woman got you horny ... not made love to you ... just seeing her ... whatever ... dont say it never happened ... it does to everyone ... be honest ... you promised ..." Marsha smoothed the glistening plane of hair by hand between each stoke, lifting it away from ears and off of shoulders, watching strings of letters form themselves in words online. "Does Marsha have to see this, too?" "she could close her eyes ... but dont let her stop brushing ... feels nice, eh?" "You planned it, didn't you? Her watching," Jenny wrote. "Okay. True." She paused to take a sip of wine. "My friend. The one I mentioned. She's sexy. In the shower, at gym." Jenny sent it. Then finished off the glass and wrote again. "Wait. Same thing, when I showered yesterday." Marsha touched her lips to Jenny's hair. "Cute. You're sweet. And brave. My turn." She placed the hairbrush on the table as she took her seat and trailed her hand along her cousin's arm. "D again," she wrote. "i took off my shirt ... getting warm in here ... thinking of that shower ... join me ... marsha, thats your dare ... remove the tee and while youre at it, jennys too ..." Marsha knew that this would happen. They'd played this game before. "Not fair," she typed. Jenny wears a bra." "youre right ... im sorry jen ... the bra goes too ..." Marsha slowed things down. "Hang on," she typed. She twisted toward her cousin. _This the end? Mouse, you're hard to read._ Jen blushed, but didn't back away. Marsha hooked the hem of her own tee and lifted. Pulled it slowly, giving Jenny time to think, and dropped it next to them before she stood and walked behind her frozen friend. She didn't ask. She held her by the shoulders. Waited for some hesitation, breathing in the waves of black in front of her. No sign. She scooped hair neatly off of Jenny's back and to the side. Calmly, half-expecting nervous hands to stop her, she slid her fingers lightly down across the cotton to her cousin's waist. She lifted, pulled it though the skein of hair. She didn't pause. She slipped the catch on Jenny's bra and pushed the straps down Jenny's arms, then dropped it on the floor. _Mouse, you didn't move. Not until you tried to sip your empty glass of wine._ "Refill? I'll get it. You talk to Jane." She left her with the charms that once had wooed her, mothered her into a soft compliance. Jane would show her other pictures likely, would entertain her, would bring her presents. She'd build her up before she dared her ... something. She'd somehow make her want to find release. Marsha waited in the kitchen counting down ten minutes. _Give her time to work the magic. Patience. Timing. Have another bit of wine._ Returning with the glasses, Jen was watching other pictures come to life: two teens, a redhead and a blonde, naked in the back seat of a car and kissing. One's hand was on the other's nipple; the other's, in between the first girl's legs. "Nice. You having fun?" Jenny's jeans were in a heap beside the chair. "I see. Lot's of fun." The tease was gentle. Her fingers lingered for a moment on Jenny's wrist while handing her the glass. "Jane always has such good ideas." Marsha shed both jeans and panties in a single motion to the floor. "Unless you'd rather play alone with her?" Jenny didn't answer. Her gaze was riveted to Marsha's mound directly at the level of her eyes. "You like?" Marsha touched her naval. Jenny managed one weak smile. "Whose turn is it?" Marsha didn't hesitate; she took the chair. The keyboard rattled, "Marsha here. Nice pic." "whats happening ... what are you wearing now ... i think its jennys turn ... are we still playing ..." "Still playing. Jenny's still in panties. Buff here. She has to 'D'. She hasn't done one yet, and I've done two." Jenny shuddered and took the chair again. "no mercy, jen ... or else ill take those panties now ..." "Yeah? Okay" "do exactly what i say or ill have her take them off ... with just her teeth ... marshas into art ... i bet you have some talent too ... use your finger and the wine, okay? for painting ... and stay within the lines ... paint both your nipples ... then both of marshas too ... thats part one ..." "What's part two?" The voice was shaky. Marsha worried Jane had gone too far. "then clean hers off ... with your tongue ... marsha gets the job of cleaning you ... every drop ... dare ..." Marsha smiled and held the wineglass out to Jennifer. She waited, wondering what came next. She'd done her part; she'd had her fun, she'd sculpted what she wanted. The rest was up to Jen. Young fingers rested on the lip, then dipped the sticky liquid. It felt like ice on Marsha's breast. She drew brown circles slowly. Then stroked the short firm cylinder, took special care with tips. Her eyes found Marsha's. Now and then, soft moans and heavy breaths assured her. When finished, Jen leaned forward to begin her second task. She started with her tongue, the same sweet lines and careful shading. Then she used her lips and then inhaled the nipples slowly, drawing each one deeper in her mouth to bathe it. "God, you almost made me cum. You're good." "Marsha, I know it's different than the dare. Would you paint mine?" The voice was soft and deep and suddenly mature. "Let me say a thank you, first, to Jane." Marsha placed her hand on Jenny's thigh and slowly slid it up, following its inside slope onto the wet spot on her panties. "Then these. And with my teeth." A finger pressed the satin. Jenny moaned. "Just a thank you. Then, we'll do some painting. Everywhere." 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}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+