Message-ID: <47700asstr$1083719404@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Mail-Format-Warning: No previous line for continuation: Wed Aug 14 16:30:23 2002Return-Path: X-Original-To: ckought69@hotmail.com Delivered-To: ckought69@hotmail.com X-Original-Path: usenet From: Passing4human X-Original-Message-ID: <4096E6FA.1060500@airmail.net> Abuse-Reports-To: abuse at airmail.net to report improper postings User-Agent: Mozilla/5.0 (Windows; U; Win98; en-US; rv:1.0.2) Gecko/20021120 Netscape/7.01 X-Accept-Language: en-us, en X-Spamscanner: mailbox10.ucsd.edu (v1.4 Mar 10 2004 15:18:19, 0.0/5.0 2.63) X-MailScanner: PASSED (v1.2.8 89094 i440ebkn092071 mailbox10.ucsd.edu) X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Mon, 03 May 2004 19:42:34 -0500 Subject: {ASSM} Socks (MF rom hist) Lines: 60 Date: Tue, 4 May 2004 21:10:04 -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, newsman Note: This was originally an entry in Desdemona's Fishnet Flash contest Many thanks to the fine folks in Desdemona's Fishtank who helped critique this story! -- To reply, get the lead out. <1st attachment, "Socks wc 299 (Final).doc" begin> Socks By Passing4human "I wear da pants in dis house!" She'd worn them, a grin, and nothing else last night as she'd stood, hands on hips, parodying her husband's manhood and Yankeehood. "Oh spare me, sir!" he'd Scarletted back, cowering on the bed, wearing only the socks and his own grin. She hadn't spared him, of course; she never did. As they'd basked in the afterglow they'd both marveled that the fires still burned so hot a year and a half into their marriage. It was the socks that had brought them together. He'd just arrived in Texas City seeking work and had been heading for menswear at Woolworth's when they'd rolled to a halt at his feet. Reflexes he'd acquired fighting Japs told him to hit the dirt while common sense told him that grenades weren't bright pink with little blue flowers. "Here, you dropped dis-" "Lord, I'm clumsy today-" They'd stood there, both holding the socks as they gazed into each other's eyes. Six months later on their wedding night, his jaw had dropped and other parts of him had risen when she stepped into their room wearing only the socks and her skin. Last night, he'd glanced at his watch and sworn; he worked third shift at the refinery. As he threw on clothes, she distracted him so deftly he didn't notice he'd put his boots over the socks. She'd smiled as he left. This morning he'd phoned. He was working late and had she heard about the ship on fire? She'd been outside watching the smoke when the explosion knocked her down. She'd stood in line all day at the high school, aching with dread. And now in the gym she screamed at the two pink socks dark with blood and soot, sticking out from under the sheet. <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. The post was sent as an email attachment and has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software. ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ -- 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}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+