Copyright 1999 by Jane Urquhart. The author is a member of the
Net Authors and Creators Union (NACU), which defends the rights
of Internet authors and creators. NACU intends to bring suit
against any person or corporation infringing copyright.
Specific permission is granted for publication in the news groups
Alt.Sex.Stories and Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated and for archiving by
the Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated archive, Deja.com and
RemarQ.com. All other rights are reserved. Do not repost or
distribute by any other means without express permission from the
author.
JANEY'S GROCERY LUST (FM cons)
by Janey
OK, it's only 10 o'clock.
Bob gave me a couple of very clear
signals earlier this evening so I figure I know what he's got on his
mind, but it sure isn't on mine and I have this horrendous day
coming up and I want to go to sleep but I'm wide awake anyhow,
practically so rigid I can't even feel the bed, thinking about the stuff
I have to do tomorrow.
I absolutely have to go
to the grocery store or we starve.
I've got to pick up Alan at school at 2:30 and take him to the mall
and force him at gunpoint to buy some shirts and pants or he won't
have anything at all to wear to school except a raincoat and that's
out of style right now and besides, when I was in school any kid
that wore a raincoat was probably a flasher, not a shooter. I
probably shouldn't even think jokes like that, people would think
I'm callous or something, but what the hell can I do about this
stuff and I'm sure not going all pious like the politicians and the TV
people.
Oh, well. I can't blame
him for not wanting to go clothes
shopping, I don't like it much myself, but you have to have
something to wear so it's just one of those damn things and he'd
better learn there are plenty of them around. At least I can tell from
the sizes they put on kiddie clothes how big they're likely to be.
He'd really hate it a lot more if he were like me and had to find a
size 16 or 18 or 20 that didn't look like something made for a fat
old lady and probably doesn't fit anyhow because they don't even
mark the sizes right. I wonder what Germaine Greer has to say
about that? I've got to read her new book and find out what she
thinks now about clothes because I know I've seen a picture of her
in a dress and I think she's pretty tall. But skinny. Anyhow.
Take the car to work. Then
I can go to Bread & Circus and
I do love to look at that pile of carrots they have. Somebody has to
work really hard to get them balanced just right, all in a cylinder
with the big ends outside. If I'm careful I can pull out the really big
ones deep down in the pile without dumping millions of carrots on
the floor, and I think the big ones taste better so it's worth taking
the chance. But I can't go to the grocery store until I get something
to eat, because I have a full schedule of clients tomorrow and I
know them all and every one of them will show up, worse luck. I
won't get out of there until 12:30. One thing I know for
sure--Janey eats. That's the important thing in life. Unless Janey
eats, the whole thing comes down with a crash. So I guess I'll take
a boring old tuna sandwich in a brown bag and it'll taste better than
what they serve in the lousy college cafeteria where the floor sticks
to your feet.
How can they allow that?
I'd have somebody out there
washing the place down 24 hours a day rather than have people's
shoes stick to the floor. Oh, well, of course the world's going to
hell in a handbasket but I can't worry about that now because I
simply have to concentrate on figuring how to get all that stuff done
tomorrow.
So all right. I take the
car. Eat brown bag after the clients
are gone. Then go to Bread & Circus. Thank God Judy has her
Japanese anime club after school--she can walk home and stay by
herself for an hour, that's OK. The kid is obsessed, but I guess it
keeps her out of trouble, and maybe she'll learn Japanese and
become an ambassador or something.
And then I got that letter
from Mat today and he asks me,
"Can you write while fucking?" Well, hell, the man is out of his
mind. Father O'Brien told me a parishioner had asked him if it was
all right to smoke while praying. "No," he said, "but it's OK to pray
while smoking." Which isn't much to the point but it's funny. So I
can't fuck while writing but maybe I can write while fucking except
the fountain pen would probably leak and there's no way to get a
keyboard in bed. Unless I got one of those wireless ones. Which
reminds me I've got to buy a whole new set of linens because
everything is wearing out, and there's no time to do that either
because--
Oh, Bob's coming up and
am I glad, because if I go to sleep
before he comes up he'll wake me and no telling how long it'll take
to get back to sleep and I really do have to sleep to be fit to get all
that stuff done tomorrow.
It'll be Thursday so maybe
the Turnpike traffic won't be too
bad and I can take my time shopping. Damn! I need a new mouse
pad because for some reason the one I've been using for years has
taken to making the mouse behave irrationally and I know it's not
the mouse because I switched the one I have for my laptop to the
desktop and it does the same thing. But Bread & Circus doesn't
carry mouse pads, I'm pretty sure, and the computer store at the
mall is so crappy it won't have any that don't have Star Wars
pictures on them. You have to go to Cambridge these days to get a
plain old gray mouse pad without any stupid cartoons on it. And
anyhow, I still don't know what I'm going to buy at the grocery
store.
He's in the bathroom--good
thing. But my God! He's taking
a shower! It'll take hours and I'll never get to sleep..
OK. Carrots. Salad stuff.
Cauliflower. Broccoli. No
problem--vegetables are easy. Do I need to buy cheese? Not there,
I don't care whether the cheese is organic or not and it costs half
the price at the regular store if I can get there. Maybe after Alan
gets his clothes. It looks like we'll be eating frozen tomorrow night.
Wonder what's in the freezer? I got enough cereal at BJ's last time
to last for months. I have to find some other places to store stuff.
The kids keep getting bigger and eating more and it's a whole lot
cheaper to buy in bulk but where the hell do I put it all? And meat.
I love the meat at Bread & Circus, and they swear it's not full of
hormones that'll turn poor Alan into a soprano and it actually tastes
better than what's at the regular store.
That was nice. I just love
it when he comes and gives me a
nice kiss before he goes around and climbs into bed. What about
fish? Yeah. Maybe they'll have the grey sole they sometimes have
and it's out of this world and I think we'll be eating at home on
Friday so I can refrigerate it for one day and it'll still be good. I'm
glad I thought of putting onion powder in the flour I put on it.
That'll be good. Even the kids like sole when I'm the one that
cooks it. I'm glad they appreciate my cooking, at least.
Oh, my! I love it when he
just holds me in his arms and I
can snuggle up against him like this. I really like this a whole lot.
But I've got to get my arm out from under his shoulder or it'll go
into total paralysis. Just slip it kind of gently up a little so it's under
his neck, like that. Better. Oh, yes! This is very nice! Soon we'll
go to sleep.
But I'm not going to buy
beef roasts there anymore. The
last two were just too tough. Good beef has to be at least a little
tender. I can't think why they have such good lamb and pork and
such lousy beef.
Wow! I wasn't even expecting
it! And kisses like that are
just about my favorite thing. He can do that again if he wants. But
we do have to go to sleep. I'm awfully tired and then there's
tomorrow. They do have really good lamb chops--I just wish they
didn't cost so much. And I almost forgot--I have to check the
laundry supplies before I leave tomorrow--I may be running out of
soap powder. Heck. Can't buy that at Bread & Circus, either.
They have this wonderful earth-friendly stuff that won't get the
clothes clean. Oh, my! That hand on my back really feels good!
He knows I just love that, that gentle stroking on my back! This is
really a nice man.
Wait a minute! That hand
isn't on my back anymore at all.
It's more or less on my butt. More, definitely. Actually, I like that,
too. Maybe I can get laundry stuff at the mall. That hand on my
butt, underneath my nice warm flannel nighty, he thinks I don't even
know he's doing it on purpose, he just sort of inadvertently put it
there. Heck. No sleep for a while, I guess. Oh, well. On my thigh
now. Well, yes! That's just about the best feeling I've had all day!
Screw sleep. So he's telling me he loves me. Loves my butt, too, I
bet. Heh-heh! Well, there's plenty of it for him to love.
My goodness! All I'm doing
is snuggling up a little closer,
just for the good feeling, and it turns out he's got this axe handle in
his pajama pocket! But he does feel good. Really good. So I'll
just snuggle even closer. Fancy that--I'm smiling! And there's this
hand that was on my butt and now it's up there on my left breast,
just caressing tenderly. OOOOooh! That's . . . nice. I read this
David Lawrence story on the Internet the other night and he talked
about "sugary feelings" shooting through some girl's body. That
was a really nice phrase. So I guess you can think about writing
while you're fucking. Except I'm not fucking. Yet. Heh-heh!
Well, I think I will be
soon, because I'm taking off that
perfectly comfortable nighty and now I'm naked as I can be and so
is he and it just feels wonderful! All that skin! Hard bones. I like
those hard bones. So now I'm kissing him and it must be lasting half
an hour because I'm exploring all his teeth and his tongue very
thoroughly and he's getting a full tour of mine and now I'm
beginning to be somewhat damp in my jewel box. I can't think
where I read that, but it's nice. Shows somebody appreciates it. In
fact, I'm getting that feeling that indicates the whole area has been
empty for a long time and needs filling. I've had that feeling before
and I like it a lot if it doesn't go on too long. And now he has his
mouth on my left breast and man! that's not sugar, that's electricity
going through me now and I'll just have to let go of him and roll
onto my back so he can get at the other breast--I don't want to
cause him any inconvenience at all, and he likes to cover all the
territory, which is certainly OK with me. He keeps saying all these
nice things, too, but I can't hear half of them because somehow my
head is buzzing. But now I hear him saying I have beautiful
breasts, and I like that a lot, even if it is trite.
He's still on the right
breast, but I'm getting just a tad
impatient. Still, there's tension. Suspense! What happens next?
Sometimes I guess I kind of dominate these things and give him
strong indications of what he's supposed to do and when, but
tonight I don't think so, I think I'll just let him surprise me. I'll just
lie here and think of England. Or maybe broccoli. Heh-heh! Sure.
Now he's down there sort
of kissing my stomach, which
doesn't actually do a lot for me--it almost tickles, and I'm not partial
to being tickled--but it's part of the ritual and now I think I'm pretty
sure where he's headed and that's just absolutely double-plus OK
with me. So I'll just let my legs fall open a little bit and bend my
knees so if he happens to be anywhere in that vicinity he might find
something amusing. And he's stroking the inside of my thigh now,
which drives me . . . wild! I'm kind of wriggling around a little but
that doesn't keep him from going on down until . . . . Oh, yes! He's
there. Going about it right, too, just kind of licking around here
and there . . . . There! Yeah! Oh, my! He's sticking a pillow under
my rear end--how practical! My thinking apparatus seems to be
shutting down but the feeling part is going strong and . . . he's . . .
well, his tongue . . . Oh, oh, oh! His tongue . . . OK, the hell with
letting him run things, I want him in me, right now!
So I'm just sort of pulling
a little on his head and now he's
looking down at me and smiling and sometimes making funny faces
that I don't think he intends to make and I have a good solid hold
on that axe handle and I'm introducing it into its proper place . . .
yes! Oh, fine! Oh, my, yes, indeed! And what he's doing now!
He's teasing me, that's what he's doing! He's pulled it nearly all the
way out and he's just hanging there, grinning at me now, just to see
what I'll do, I'll bet, so I'm shoving my bottom up hard and whoops!
Nearly lost it! But I haven't. And now he's relenting, such a nice
man, and he's pushing himself forward so I get this feeling . . . right
where I want it . . . and . . . he's still going in and out, faster . .
. and
. . . oh, my, oh my . . . oh my . . . Ahhh! Oh, yes! And now he's
filling me up and falling forward and about crushing me and I love it
and I'm holding on to him so tight! He's just kissing me all over my
face and I'm kissing him all over his face and it is so, so nice!
And now he's lying on his
back and I'm all scrunched up
against him with his arm under my neck and I'm stroking his chest,
gently, and I wouldn't bet a lot on his being awake five minutes
from now. Which is just fine. He's just saying he thinks I'm soooo
lovely, and naturally I'm smiling. I think he's lovely, too. So we're
just lying here and luxuriating. It feels so good.
Oh, yeah, I was thinking
about tomorrow. Tomorrow.
Maybe some of those good cookies for the kids . . . . And . . .
some chips . . . maybe . . . . Oh, well . . . . I'll sort it out . . .
in the
morn . . . .
---THE END---
NOTE: I want to thank Mat Twassel, whose very sharp criticism
made this little story a lot better than it was in its first draft, and
Miles Naismith, who helped me this time as he always does.
Whatever's wrong is, of course, my fault, not theirs. J.U.
Copyright 1999 by Jane Urquhart. The author is a member of the
Net Authors and Creators Union (NACU), which defends the rights
of Internet authors and creators. NACU intends to bring suit
against any person or corporation infringing copyright.
Specific permission is granted for publication in the news groups
Alt.Sex.Stories and Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated and for archiving by
the Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated archive, Deja.com, and RemarQ.com.
All other rights are reserved. Do not repost or distribute by any other
means without express permission from the author.