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From: John Jameson <j_jameson1780@my-deja.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Donna [7/7] {Jameson} (MFF Rom Oral)
Date: Sun, 6 Feb 2000 08:10:04 -0500
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Donna
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Copyright 2000, John Jameson. All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction, and all characters and events are drawn from
the author's fevered imagination. Any resemblance to persons, living
or dead, is unintentional. If you think you recognize yourself here,
it's no doubt a matter of projection on your own part. (Unless, of
course, you happen to be female, are not offended by what you read, and
find middle-aged would-be authors of erotica irresistible. But we'll
save that discussion for some other time.)
Please do not reproduce this work in any form without the express
consent of the author. If you want to archive this story, you may
contact me at Jameson1780@altavista.com.
If you are offended by explicit depictions of human sexuality, you may
want to look elsewhere for entertainment (after consulting a competent
therapist). If it is illegal for you to read such materials due to
age, local laws, or other considerations (and you know who you are, so
let's not kid each other), then please go no further. Not that I can
stop you, but at least my conscience is clear now.
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Part Seven -- Unexpected Developments
One Friday night in early January, shortly after we'd all returned from
Christmas break, I had the evening shift at the counseling center and
promised Donna that I had a ride secured and would meet her at the
farmhouse in time for bed. When I arrived at the farm about 10:30,
Sherry, one of the other volunteers, pulled me aside.
"I think you should get upstairs," she told me quietly, a deep frown
creasing her normally cheerful face.
"I plan to," I replied with what I hoped was a nonchalant smile,
curious as to what was troubling Sherry but even more anxious to feel
Donna's naked body in my arms.
"Men!" Sherry snorted, punching me lightly on the shoulder. "I mean
that Barb's up there crying on Donna's shoulder and I think Donna could
use a little help. You may be a horny bastard, but you're a good
counselor, and I think Barb needs one tonight." Concerned now, I
thanked Sherry for the warning and hauled my backpack up to "our"
room.
Just as she'd said, Donna and Barb were sitting on the big bed, Barb
now weeping quietly with her blonde head resting on Donna's shoulder.
Donna looked at me as I entered and signaled me to be quiet, but to
join them, so I slipped quietly onto the bed and gingerly laid my hand
on Barb's shoulder. Startled, she turned and looked at me, not even
realizing at first who had intruded on her grief. Then recognition set
in, and she turned from Donna, wrapped her arms around my neck, and
began to sob openly once again as Donna rubbed her neck and I tried to
comfort her with hugs.
"That prick she was dating from back home gave her the kiss-off this
afternoon," Donna told me quietly. I could see the sparks of anger in
my lover's normally tranquil blue eyes. "He didn't even have the
decency to tell her face-to-face over break; he fucked her all through
the holidays, then called her this afternoon to tell her he's been
seeing someone else since November and decided he didn't want to carry
on a long-distance relationship anymore."
"Oh, Barb, honey," I murmured, stroking her long blonde hair and
rocking her gently in my arms, "I'm so sorry." If I could have gotten
my hands on that asshole right then, I'd have knocked him on his ass
for causing the pain I saw in her eyes and heard in her voice.
Donna leaned over Barb's shoulder and kissed me softly on the lips.
Her arms surrounded us both, and she and I did our best to comfort the
grieving little blonde. We let her talk it out, offering encouraging
comments and gentle hugs and caresses until at last she seemed to be
all cried out for the night. When Barb reached the stage where she was
resting passively in my arms, exhausted from crying, Donna slipped
quietly down to the now-deserted kitchen and brought back a half-empty
bottle of Chablis from the fridge. She urged Barb to take a big drink
before taking one herself, finally passing the bottle to me. She was
as tender as a mother with a newborn infant when she fetched a
washcloth from the bathroom and wiped Barb's tear-streaked face while
Barb leaned back against my chest.
Barb accepted her ministrations like a child, offering her face to the
cloth and then settling back to snuggle up against my chest.
Wordlessly, Donna signed for me to stretch out on the bed, and Barb
followed my lead, curling up between Donna and me. I figured she'd
probably be asleep soon from sheer exhaustion and realized Donna was
planning on Barb spending the night in our bed.
I wasn't surprised when Donna quietly urged Barb to raise her hips
while she pulled the blonde woman's blue jeans down and dropped them on
the floor. Then, ever so gently, she eased her out of the white
peasant blouse she was wearing, leaving Barb lying there in pink cotton
panties. What did surprise me was Donna coming around the bed to kiss
me softly, then moving toward the bedroom door.
"Honey? . . ." I whispered, puzzled.
"You be sweet to her, you hear?" Donna told me quietly. "I think she
needs to be reminded that not all men are shits right now. I'll be
across the hall in her bed when you wake up."
"But, Donna, I don't think . . ." I protested.
"You sure don't, baby, but I love ya anyway," she giggled. "I know you
love me, Mike, but you love Barb, too, in a way." She came back to the
bedside and kissed me deeply. "Now's the time for you to be here for
her, when she really needs you. I'm not saying she's gonna want your
body, or anyone else's, tonight, but if she does, don't you be mean to
her, is that understood?" Donna slipped across the hall and was gone.
Oh well, I thought, it's not like I haven't slept with the woman
before--even wearing as little as she's wearing now. And Donna's
right, she needs someone to hold her tonight and reassure her that
she's still loved. (Isn't rationalization a wonderful thing?)
Whatever the reason, I stretched out on the bed and took Barb in my
arms, her face nestled against the front of my shirt. I think I had
every intention of going to sleep, just cuddling her as I had so many
nights back at the counseling center. I knew she'd had a terrible
evening, and I truly was concerned that this young women, one of my
closest friends, had been so deeply hurt. Whether she'd discussed them
with Donna earlier or not, apparently Barb had other ideas.
I had just gotten comfortable and was about to start drifting off to
sleep when it dawned on me that Barb was awake. I think my first clue
was when she began to unbutton my shirt and I felt her warm, wet tongue
teasing one of my nipples. I do remember an involuntary "Oh God"
creeping past my lips at about that point. As she unbuttoned and
kissed her way down my chest, I pushed her straight blonde hair aside
and kissed the nape of her neck. Barb kept kissing further down my
chest and belly, and I kissed and licked my way down her back, just as
she was doing, until teasing turned to hunger and we twisted around on
our sides so that her soft blonde fur was tickling my nose.
Even as Barb was spreading her thighs on either side of my head, I felt
her tongue lapping softly around the crown of my cock. Her scent drew
me in like a moth to the flame, my tongue flicking out to taste her as
I parted her lips delicately with my fingers. We started softly,
teasingly, but it didn't last long before we were each trying to devour
the other's sex, our hands moving over one another's bodies. Barb's
juices were thick and hot, almost syrupy, with a scent and taste that
made me want to crawl inside her. She was moaning loudly around my
cock, which she'd managed to get almost all the way into her mouth, and
her head was bobbing rapidly back and forth. Although this was
incredibly arousing to me, I knew I was a long way from coming. Barb
seemed to have no such inhibitions--several times I felt her stiffen
and shiver while I teased and explored her with my tongue.
"Fuck me, Mike," she panted when she finally let me slip from her lips
for a moment. "I just want to fuck like bunnies and forget everything
else for a while."
Only too happy to oblige, I disengaged from our sixty-nine and slipped
behind Barb where she knelt in the middle of the bed. Her hand reached
for me and guided me to her entrance. I felt her opening around me as
we pushed against each other, and in seconds I was deep inside her,
both of us thrusting together as if to merge our bodies into one
flesh.
The rhythmic sounds of our coupling were only broken when one or the
other of us would shift into a new position as we sought to increase
each other's pleasure and our own. Soon enough Barb's short, unpainted
nails were digging into my shoulders as she arched beneath me, at the
same time that I felt myself shuddering all over and emptying myself
into her clutching depths.
Exhausted but far from sated, we collapsed together in a tangled heap,
hands still exploring and caressing and mouths meeting in a long, wet
kiss even as we gasped for breath.
"Mike, I love you," Barb said, smiling and letting a tear trickle down
her cheek. "Not that I want to take you from Donna--I love both of you
so much. But you've made me feel so loved--so desirable--when I felt
so shitty earlier tonight."
"You are loved, babe," I smiled back at her. "You know how much I care
about you, and obviously Donna does, too"
"Donna--my God, the poor silly bitch is sleeping all alone in the other
room on what's supposed to be her big night of the week!"
"Well apparently she felt you needed it more than she did tonight.
I'll just have to be extra nice to her tomorrow, or rather today."
"Ummmmm . . ."
"What is it, Barb?"
"Does she have to wait? I bet we could wake her up really nicely."
I sat bolt upright in the bed and looked at Barb, who smiled back at me
like the Cheshire cat. I couldn't believe it. Barb and I had been
making love for nearly an hour, and here I thought she'd really been
into it. Was she telling me she was a lesbian and had only been
fucking me to get to my girlfriend? My confusion must have been as
plain as though it had been printed on my face, because Barb began to
laugh quietly and wrapped her arms around me to pull me down into a
hug.
"Are you gonna tell me you wouldn't like to make it with both of us
together?" she asked me, giggling.
"You're bi?" I knew I was looking at her like a typical stupid male,
but what the hell, I was a typical stupid male.
"Does that freak you out? More to the point, do you think it would
freak Donna out?"
I had to admit that I had no idea how Donna would react to another
woman making love to her, with or without me present. I didn't have to
tell Barb how much the idea turned me on, as the answer to that
question was pulsing insistently against the soft skin of her belly.
I pulled on my jeans, Barb wrapped herself in the sheet, and we slipped
across the darkened hallway into the room that was normally Barb's.
Donna was burrowed down under the covers, curled up in a ball like a
sleeping kitten with only the dark mop of curls showing above the top
of the quilt. As quietly as possible, Barb and I slipped under the
covers on either side of her and snuggled up close. Donna murmured
something in her sleep and burrowed her face into my shoulder, one hand
slipping down to curl lightly around my semi-erect cock, but there was
no sign of her waking out of her sound slumber. I saw Barb looking at
me with raised eyebrows as if to ask whether I thought we should wake
her or let her sleep. I shrugged and smiled at her in the semi-
darkness; having agreed to this, I wasn't willing to wait too long for
Donna's reaction.
I let my hands begin to wander over her body, tracing her lovely curves
so lightly I was barely touching her skin. Occasionally, my hand met
Barb's as she was also exploring the sleeping form between us, and we'd
pause to exchange a caress. After a minute or two of this delicate
treatment, Donna's face turned upward, and her lips met mine; then her
eyes opened, and I could feel her smile against my lips. Sudden
awareness seemed to awaken her fully, and she looked over her shoulder
at Barb nestled up behind her and smiling.
"I hope this ape was nice to you, sweetheart," she whispered to Barb
even as her hand was bringing me to full erection again.
"Oh, he was, girl, he was!" Barb replied with a giggle. Donna turned
onto her back, and Barb and I each laid our head on opposite shoulders
as her arms went around us and hugged us tightly.
"See, Baby?" Donna turned to me with a smile. "That wasn't so hard,
was it?"
"No, honey, it was fine once I was sure you were okay with it."
"In fact," Barb added, "that's why we're here--I didn't want to wait
until morning to thank you for being so generous when I really needed
it." Her fingers passed over and around Donna's on my shaft and balls,
and I could feel Donna caressing Barb's hand much as Barb and I had
traded caresses while we were stroking Donna just minutes earlier.
That she had no problem sharing me with Barb had been plain since the
moment she'd walked out of the other bedroom, but I was still uncertain
how she'd feel about the three of us sharing a bed for something more
than cuddling and conversation.
That issue seemed to be resolving itself, too, when Donna turned to
Barb and the little blonde kissed her gently. I could see Donna's lips
part a fraction of a second before Barb's, and the thought of my girl
sharing a French kiss with my good friend caused my erection to twitch
in anticipation of more to come. When they broke the kiss, Donna
turned to look at me inquiringly, and I smiled at her.
"Like Barb said, she wanted to thank you," I whispered, "and I agreed
that it shouldn't be put off until morning."
"Well, I didn't think the two of you woke me in the middle of the night
because you had an overwhelming desire for conversation," Donna
purred.
"At least you'd better not have--not after getting me so aroused."
That seemed to eliminate any hesitation on my part or Barb's. We both
began to caress Donna, who seemed to relish being the center of our
attention and absorbed our affection like a sponge. She kissed me
deeply, then turned to Barb and kissed her just as passionately before
pulling the two of us close enough that we could share a kiss across
her recumbent form.
>From that point on, things are a little less distinct in my memory.
Oh, there are moments that are still vivid in my mind--Barb's tongue
meeting mine over the hard nub of Donna's clit and the incredible
sensation of two warm, wet tongues caressing my cock--but most of the
details are lost in a sensual haze. When I finally jetted my semen
deep inside Donna's spasming vaginal sheath, she was busy bringing Barb
off with her fingers, while Barb's fingers were caressing the two of us
at the point where we were joined. Sated, or maybe just exhausted
physically and emotionally, the three of us fell asleep in a tangled
heap as soon as I'd drawn the covers back up over us.
I wasn't certain as I drifted off what the future would bring, but I
hoped the three of us would be able to hold on to what we'd felt that
night. It wasn't only the incredible sensations inherent in making
love to two lovely and responsive women at once, but the emotional bond
I'd felt rippling among us as well. I knew it wouldn't always be easy,
but something told me the three of us had something more than lust and
a love of exploration in common.
The coming weeks and months would test us singly and together, and
there were pitfalls and triumphs ahead we could never have foreseen
that night, but for the time being we simply curled up together and
slept, willing to face the future as it came.
[Donna, Mike, and Barb will return. Their story is just beginning.]
[AUTHOR'S NOTE: The Shack is no longer there, having finally succumbed
to "progress" and the dominance of the fast food chains. But Mort
Walker, who took up sculpture in his later years, created a bronze in
1992 that will forever memorialize that glorious beer and burger
joint.
It depicts young Mizzou freshman Beetle Bailey sitting in one of The
Shack's dark wood booths, carving his initials into the table for
posterity. Who knows, maybe he was leaving his mark just before paying
a visit to his sister Lois and her new husband Hi en route to Camp
Swampy and forty years as a private in the Army. The sculpture sits in
Pocket Park on the Mizzou campus.]
--
New story "Donna" is posted to my Web site
----
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/John_Jameson/www
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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