Message-ID: <24294asstr$959335805@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: auryman@aol.com (AuryMan)
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Subject: {ASSM} new story 1/? (bdsm,MMf,strangers)
Date: Fri, 26 May 2000 06:10:05 -0400
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WARNING: This story contains strong sexual themes. It is intended as a work of
fiction for ADULTS ONLY,
and the writer does not in any way suggest or condone similar
behavior.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is
coincidental. All names are fictitious. The acts described herein are
illegal, and are not condoned by the author. This work is to be read by
PERSONS 21 OR OLDER ONLY where such topics are not against the law.
If unusual sexual behavior offends you, please STOP reading here
---
PS, i like comments, good and bad. drop me a note
---
GETTING OFF THE PLANE
I was really pretty sure it was all a farce by the time I got off the plane in
Oakland.
During the four-hour flight, I'd been re-reading all of the email exchanges
we'd had over the last six months or so. On the surface, it was the perfect
Internet-sex-affair. The man -- who identified himself as Peter -- had weekly
online orgies with his girlfriend, who he never called by name. (It was always
'her' and 'she', a completely anonymous third-person reference -- except for
the times he was "talking dirty" and calling her a "whore" or "slut". His
favorite, which evidently came from her, was "cum-hole".)
They always did these orgies in an open channel with a name like
"UseMyFuckSlut". Anyone who did a lookup on any of those words would find the
channel. They said it turned them on, people drifting in and out of the
channel. Some stayed to play along, some came in, watched a while, and left.
Peter said 'she' was often more turned on by the ones who came, watched , then
left. 'she' always went a little more wild when one of those lurkers dropped
into the channel.
I'd struck up a friendship with Peter. We're both Java geeks, both serious
Rush fans, and have nearly all of the same kinds of fantasies. There were so
many times in the channel that one or the other of us made a move the other was
about to make -- it was like ESP. We'd 'LOL' each other in a private window,
then go back to giving our full attention to our slut.
Another thing we both had in common was that we enjoyed watching her deal with
the other men who drifted into the channel. Actually, the benefit for me was
obvious: while she was servicing them and they were doing their best to impress
her, my hands were free to jack off. I don't know exactly what the situation
was with her and Peter. Sometimes he'd tell me he was actually there with her,
other times, he'd say he was at home doing himself. Who knows? Who cares?
Except that things progressed. Peter talked to me more and more about flying
out to the coast for a threesome. Whenver the subject came up in channel,
she'd simply answer "Yes, Sir" to whatever Peter said. Like I said, I don't
know their arrangement in real life.
Which led me to feeling like it was going to be a blow-off when I finally got
to their part of the world. On the BART train riding up the east edge of the
Bay and then across under the tunnel, I talked myself into accepting that this
was one big Wet Dream and our 'meeting for coffee' was going to turn out to be
exactly that.
FIRST IMPRESSIONS
While the taxi driver weaved in and out of traffic, I watched the buildings go
by. The City was as beautiful as I remembered -- all the well-dressed men and
women strutting through the financial district, then the drive up Columbus
toward North Beach. Past the hungry i and the Purple Onion, stopping up near
City Lights, Vesuvius and all the strip clubs across the street. It had been
nearly 10 years since I visited and not much had chanced. Except that Carol
Doda's place was now Big Al's.
The driver smiled a knowing grin as I told him to pull over a few blocks past
the Big Intersection. I threw him the fare and a tip, grabbed my small
carry-on suitcase, and exited out into the San Francisco afternoon.
I looked up and down the street for the coffee shop Peter had named. It was
half a block further up from where I'd quit the taxi. I started my walk. The
entire city seemed somehow complicit in our game. The couples walking down the
street -- gay and straight -- were all over each other, kissing, fondling. The
City was acting as an aphrodisiac and I hoped that Peter wasn't just a jerk
with a hardon and the ability to spin great fantasies online.
I identified them instantly. Peter was true to his word - they looked exactly
the way he'd described them. Peter was a late 40's type, well dressed, short
hair and wire-rimmed glasses. He'd been watching the door and immediately
waved me over to the table. I looked for 'her' but, she wasn't at the table
with him. Great. It WAS a scam.
"Hey ---, it's wonderful to see you. Face to face after all this time," he
greeted me. I smiled and shook his hand, felt the firm grip of smooth, strong
hands.
"So, we're finally here. In the same room, in the flesh, as it were..." he
began.
"Well, two of us are..." I said, hoping that my voice would sound powerful and
suspicious, not disappointed and whiny.
Peter laughed. "She's in the bathroom. Order yourself a caffe latte, it's
their specialty. How was the flight?" He waved a waitress over to our table.
"Pretty uneventful," I said in a quiet, calm tone. I ordered a decaf from the
waitress -- if the day fell through, at least I'd get a good night's sleep --
then turned my attention back to Peter.
"So, you never told me. Do you live in the City too?"
He smiled. "I don't think we need to know all that much about each other.
Nothing more than we already know. Proclivities. Tastes. Fetishes. Yes?"
Inside, I growled. This guy could play domme with his girlfriend all he
wanted, but did he HAVE to keep up the shit with me? He calmly took a drink of
his caffe, looked over my shoulder, evidently watching for 'her' to return.
"So, do you have something special lined up?" I asked, trying to fish around
and see how much I could learn from him.
"A few things. Mostly, though, I'm hoping to play this by ear. We've done so
good together in the channel, you and I, that I didn't feel the need to do any
elaborate planning." He took another sip of his coffee.
"Except for one thing. Sometime midweek, I'd like to have a video-conference
on the net. The two of us with her, and a lot of audience out there
participating."
"Nobody's got that kind of gear..." I growled. It had been a fantasy of his
for a long time, he'd keep throwing it at me and I'd kept telling him that it
couldn't be done. Not in any reasonable way anyhow, and certainly not with the
ability to attract strangers.
"I've taken your advice, believe me. I've spend months setting this up. I
have a group of about ten who DO have the gear. They have the cameras, the
sound gear, the bandwidth, the..." He stopped mid-sentence and nodded for me
to look over my shoulder.
I turned my head and saw her. 'she' was making her way back to the table,
holding hands with a tall black man. He was laughing and she was smiling,
keeping up what looked like a pleasant facade. 'she' was an eyefull. her
clothes weren't anything particularly slutty, but sexy in a simple way. she
was wearing a cotton print dress, sleeveless, spaghetti strap top, length about
halfway between the knee and the crotch. But when she walked, it flared nicely
and you could see the tops of the stockings she wore underneath. And she was
very obviously braless.
her body was pretty much what the two of them had described. she was on the
heavy side. (I'll leave the details to your imagination -- imagine the biggest
woman you'd still find attractive.) That somehow made her clothes more sexy --
that she was so free to show a body that you had to know to love. But Peter
and I did know it -- and loved every inch of it. her hair was cut short,
colored red, and her makeup was exquisite. Peter said he often sent her to the
salon for up to three hours before taking her out for a night of fucking and
sucking. I thought he's meant in his online fantasies. Now I could see that
she obviously had professional work done. I could see it in the details -- her
fingernails (as they got closer), her lips, her eyeshadow. "Dressed to kill"
was an understatement.
They were still a few tables away when Peter leaned over to me and whispered "I
didn't say WHICH restroom she was in." He leaned back into his seat with a
wide, satisfied smile.
"Steven, i'd like to introduce you to my Master Peter, and our friend ---," she
said in a polite, measured, and altogether sexy voice when they stepped up to
our table.
The big man smiled. He pulled out a chair for her and she looked at Peter. He
nodded and she sat down. Then, Steven pulled another chair from the
neighboring table and sat down with us.
"Damn! Imagine my surprise," he said to Peter. He reached out a hand and
Peter shook it.
"Yes, well it's a little something I like to do now and then," Peter said. He
turned to me. "Ask Steven for the story."
I did.
"Well, I was sitting over there reading my book and had to go to the toilet.
So, I put my book down, got up and walked in. Just as I got myself unzipped
and standing in front of the urinal, I heard the door open again. I turned my
head and saw her -- hey, you STILL haven't told me your name -- closing the
door behind herself. I smiled and said 'Guess you made a wrong turn' but she
shook her head. She stood there while I finished pee-ing, then said 'leave
that thing out if you'd like a blow job'. I smiled and said 'sure'. So, she
did! She just took me into one of the stalls and did it right there! Damn!"
While he told the story, she divided her time between looking at me and looking
at Peter. I began to think I'd hit a gold mine. My stay was going to be
interesting after all.
---more to come---
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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