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Subject: {ASSM} Suburban Folk Tales - Cybersex (Virago Blue)(F solo)
Date: Wed, 7 Jun 2000 06:10:03 -0400
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Suburban Folk Tales - Cybersex
(c)2000 by Virago Blue
A few years ago I began to interview displaced homemakers in an effort to
find jobs for them outside the home. One thread in many of these interviews
began to pick at my brain. One mother of four mentioned a secret society.
When I pressed further, she became uncomfortable and refused to divulge any
more information. Call me psychic, but I thought there was something behind
this secret society and I was determined to find out what. I managed to
infiltrate one of these communities by pretending to be a young wife eager to
make new friends. Some found it odd that my husband worked so much and still
others managed a deeper amount of sympathy for my imposed situation. All in
all, they were very gracious, if not a little suspicious at times, and let me
become part of their inner circle. A warning, though: some of the tales may
shock and disturb more so because every one of them is true. Keep in mind
that the stories I'm about to tell really happened, as difficult as they may
be to believe. The names and residences have been changed to protect these
people. However, if pressed, they would never admit to their stories to an
outsider. Never to an outsider.
Somewhere in America, indeed many places in this world, fascinating things
happen behind closed doors. Past the gated communities, manicured lawns and
cookie-cutter homes, another reality exists. A world that is far from dull.
A world that is far from normal.
I leave you with my first installment of my compilation, Suburban FolkTales--
Cybersex. Enjoy.~Natasha Rabelais, journalist.
***
Jessica stared blankly at the computer screen, reliving last night's fight
with Keith. He was never hungry at dinnertime. She suspected he didn't
care for her cooking. She had been about to turn off the light in the
kitchen when a sound caught her attention. It was coming from the pantry.
Confused, she opened the pantry door and switched on the light, expecting to
see a mouse. Her recent suspicions were confirmed when she interrupted Keith
gorging himself on sour cream and onion potato chips.
The situation went from bad to worse as Keith tried to nicely tell her that
maybe she needed cooking lessons. He even suggested she call his mother for
a few helpful hints. Jessica was outraged and hurt. Childishly she lashed
out at Keith and told him she hated his mother and he was a bad driver and
maybe one day he could learn how to clean his whiskers out of the bathroom
sink. Keith sarcastically asked if she knew how to sort colors yet,
unzipping his pants to show her his pink underwear. Eight months of marriage
and things did not look good for the Hampton's.
Jessica dabbed at her still puffy eyes. After two hours of discussion they
finally came to the agreement that Keith was going to be responsible for the
meals while she managed the finances. They both made amends and went to bed
fulfilled in each other's arms.
Every Tuesday morning Jessica had a tennis lesson, followed by a quick match
with Bitsy and Jen at the country club. This Tuesday morning, however, she
begged off the tennis match with Bitsy and Jen in order to get home and begin
her introduction to her home computer. Now she faced a blank computer
screen, a manual on managing personal finances, and no idea how to even turn
the damn thing on. She jabbed her index finger at some of the buttons on the
monitor and nothing happened. Finally, she prodded at a couple of buttons on
the other box and the machine hummed to life.
The computer screen blinked a few times before grating to a standstill. It
appeared everything was ready to go. The "Budget" icon was on her screen,
just as Keith had said.
"I've got to get Keith to show me how to use this thing," Jessica mumbled as
she tried to get the feel of the mouse. Science and math were her worst
subjects in school so it came as no surprise to her that she never
particularly cared about learning the computer until now. Come to think of
it, the only subject Jessica excelled in during junior high and high school
was boys. Unfortunately, her grades weren't based on her success with the
football team. Or the basketball team. Or even the baseball team.
She snagged Keith not long after graduating high school when she worked at
the cosmetics counter at Masons Department Store. He was with a girlfriend
at the time and when she was busy trying on a few different shades of eye
shadow with coordinating eye pencil, Jessica slipped Keith her phone number.
Keith called her two weeks later. The girlfriend was dumped and forgotten as
soon as Jessica dug her manicured, cotton-candy pink nails deep into his
muscled back. Keith, her big blonde teddy bear as she affectionately dubbed
him, was smitten.
Keith worked for a software company in Phoenix. Although the money was good,
the hours were long and hard. The last thing Keith wanted to see when he
came home was another computer screen. Jessica made a vow to learn the
computer, even if she developed fine lines around the eyes from squinting at
the screen glare. Besides, she wasn't above plastic surgery to correct any
deformities her commitments conveyed.
Three hours had raced by before Jessica even realized. She was beginning to
understand how to set up the check register when the phone rang.
"Hello?" Jessica sighed, arching back in her chair. She brushed her silky
blonde bangs from her forehead, massaging away some of the tension in her
brow.
"Hey, what are you doin'?" Keith asked.
Jessica smiled, "well, mister, you'll just have to wait until you get home
and then if you're lucky, I'll show you."
"Just stay out of the kitchen, will ya?" Keith chuckled.
"Watch it or I'll invite my mother over for the weekend." Jessica laughed,
knowing Keith dreaded visits from his mother-in-law. Last night's argument
and truth-telling session seemed so far away now.
"I'll be home a little later than usual tonight. I had to move back my
meeting with the VP, and Sid wants me to look over a program he's really
excited about. How -~bout we go to Carlo's tomorrow night for dinner?"
"Only if I can have a double tiramisu for dessert."
"Deal."
Jessica hung up the phone, still smiling from their conversation. She
studied the screen in front of her and reached for the mouse.
"Hello Jessica," A voice resonated from the computer.
Jessica froze. She looked at the phone. She picked up the receiver again
and listened. Dial tone. She returned the phone to its cradle. She stared
back at the computer, pushing her chair back slightly.
"You're beautiful when you smile," said the voice again. It had a peculiar
pitch, deep and sultry, yet somewhat familiar.
"Okay, what kind of joke is this?" Jessica inched her chair back a little
further. She didn't notice any speakers or tape recorders on the desk. She
stood and began to search the bookshelves behind her for a hidden microphone
or something.
"Don't be frightened. The last thing I want to do is scare you," the
slightly familiar voice droned.
Jessica looked back at the computer. The voice was definitely coming from
the computer. The tone mesmerized her. It continued to perplex her, deep in
her mind, that she had heard it somewhere before. She just couldn't quite
place it yet.
"Keith? All right Keith, this isn't funny. How are you doing that?"
Jessica crawled under the desk, checking the maze of cords and wires that
connected the computer to the phone and to who-knew-what-else.
"Jessica," the voice said again, slowly and drowsily, like -~he' was about to
recite poetry.
Jessica peeked up from under the desk. The desk chair had rolled back out of
her reach almost as if it were wary of the computer, too. She crawled on
hands and knees, reaching for the seat. "Who-or what are you?" Jessica
asked meekly, scooting back into her chair.
"Who do you want me to be?" The voice lowered to a near whisper. "I can be
anyone you want," he taunted her.
"Ha . . . okay then. Antonio Banderas. Give me Antonio Banderas, smart
ass." Jessica leaned back, keeping her distance.
"Jessica. The name I call you will be Jesse. Do you like that? Jesse. It
suits you. Now, stop biting your lip and show me that gorgeous smile."
Jessica squealed, half in fright, half in excitement. It sounded very much
like Antonio Banderas. "Okay...too weird. I can't take the Antonio Banderas
voice for too long or . . . or . . .Hey, how did you know I was biting my
lip?"
"I can see you." The voice was back to -~normal' again.
"No, really. What kind of a game is this? I know Keith messes around with
this computer, but this is really strange."
"You don't believe me?" The voice paused and emitted a low sigh, as if he
were pouting.
"No," Jessica said, more carefully this time. If, and only -~if' her computer
could talk to her, what else could it do? Shoot the keys from the keypad at
an alarming velocity, maybe even putting out one of her baby blue eyes? What
if the mouse suddenly jumped from the pad and wrapped its little cord around
her graceful neck? She decided it wouldn't be wise to anger her computer.
"I mean, maybe you need to convince me somehow. It's not every day these
things happen, you know. I think." Jessica bit down softly on her full
lower lip, still stained magenta from her long-wearing lipstick.
"You played tennis this morning. You're still wearing your little white
skirt and a tight white tank top. It shows off your tan very nicely," the
computer complemented.
Jessica was speechless. Self-consciously, almost, she pulled at the neck of
her tank top, easing the lycra-spandex blend a tad higher over her alluring
cleavage. A deep breath settled it back into its original place.
"And, I'll bet you're wearing white cotton panties. I know why you are
wearing those particular panties today. You like to flash your tennis coach.
You bend over so that he can catch a glimpse of those panties and the tan
line that you eagerly expose. You like to tease him. Admit it," the
computer provoked.
"I . . . uh . . . "
"You are a little tease, Jessica. That's what first attracted Keith to you.
That and your big tits and tight ass. He doesn't mind. He likes it that his
wife arouses other men."
"He . . . does?" Jessica was now convinced she was suffering some type of
mental breakdown. Might as well make it worth her while, she thought
sarcastically.
"Oh yes, Jessica. He gets off on the idea frequently. Just the other day he
caught his friend Sid admiring you while you were sun bathing by the pool.
You had your top untied and when you reached for your water, you exposed
yourself to him. Sid was quite embarrassed. I believe it is safe to say
Keith was proud, not jealous."
"Oh. How do you know all this?" Jessica asked, wide-eyed and innocently.
"I know a lot of things. I'm smart that way. In fact, I know that you want
to touch yourself right now. You've been dreaming about your tennis coach,
wondering how his mouth would feel sucking your pussy lips."
Jessica shifted in her chair. How did -~he' know she was splashing her
panties, fantasizing about that studly college boy and his tight-fitting
polyester tennis shorts?
"Put your leg on the desk, Jessica." The voice became slightly more
demanding, yet it remained hypnotizing and husky.
Jessica complied. She hiked her long tanned leg up on the desk, her tennis
shoe knocking the handbook to the floor. The screensaver began to undulate
vibrant reds and purples on a background of black.
"Now your other leg. Open your legs wider. Let me see. That's it. You do
like this, don't you?"
"Uh huh." Jessica breathed out, tilting her hips up slightly and stretching
her legs farther apart. Her white cotton panties were sopping wet and
clinging to her already bulging clitoris.
"Move your panties to the side."
Jessica crooked her finger, slipping it under the delicate band of elastic at
her crotch. She slowly pulled the panties to the side, revealing the open
folds of her sex. The brush of cool air on her wet sex made her clit retreat
for a second. She opened her taut legs even more. It was true. She enjoyed
nonchalantly exposing herself to her tennis coach, her husband's friends,
even the elderly man who lives next door.
"Touch yourself."
Jessica dipped her finger into her slippery pussy. She moved her long middle
finger with its cotton-candy pink nail slowly around the outer folds of her
darker pink labia. She lightly traced over the delicate inner folds of
sensitive pussy-flesh before tickling over her closely cropped blonde bush.
She touched her rigid clit and couldn't help but moan out loud. The
morning's activities had left her in an aroused state. She probably would
have ended up masturbating or using her vibrator before long, especially
since Keith was going to be home late.
"Jessica . . . I want you to make yourself cum. Do it. You know you want
to."
Jessica began to move her middle finger in little circles around her clit,
avoiding the aroused nub for now. Her finger slid easily over and around her
pussy. She was so wet.
"That's it, Jessica. Yes. "
Her finger continued to explore her juicy folds, a finger, then two, slipping
in and out of her vagina. Her other hand worked her shirt loose from the
confines of the short skirt, pulling it up and over her shaking tits. Both
nipples were erect and long and being pulled on with her free hand. She
moaned, tilting her hips higher off the chair. Jessica's hand began to move
faster, nearly a blur as her fingers slipped around her moist region,
disappearing inside her vagina. She threw her head back and began to buck
wildly with the self-satisfying orgasm.
She slumped down in the chair after the last spasms had passed. Any minute
now she was sure the men in little white coats were going to knock on her
door. "Just wait till I catch my breath," she thought with a grin.
The sound of the printer jarred her from her afterglow. It quickly spit out
a paper. Jessica reached for the paper, giggling at the page full of O's.
***
Keith stared at the graphs, printouts and budget forecast in amazement.
"Jess, this is incredible. Absolutely incredible. I had no idea you were so
good with computers."
Jessica shrugged, coquettishly biting her lip.
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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