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From: One Gallus <onegallus@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Swede Ola Part 4
Date: Sat, 21 Oct 2000 15:10:05 -0400
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Sorry about the legend at the close of part three:
"End of Story"  Neither that, nor this is the end. Gallus

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<1st attachment, "Swede 4.txt" begin>

{ASSM}

Title: SWEDE OLA Part 4
Author: One Gallus, galluslong@yahoo.com

(MF, Oral, Anal, Rom)

Disclaimer
Not to be read:  
by anyone under the age of 18
or if it violates the standards or laws of your 
community: 
or if adult erotica offends you. 

Not to be posted on any site, or changed, added 
to or used in any way without author's 
permission.



SWEDE OLA  Part 4 

"I think I saw Niles," she said on Tuesday, two 
days later.  Niles was her ex-husband.

"What do you mean? He saw you?" I said.

"I came out of the nursing home parking lot, and 
I think I saw his car swing in behind me."

Ola, you were at the Nursing Home?  You weren't 
going back there."

"I know Charles, but I had to pick up my check," 
she said.

"You should have let me, or someone else pick it 
up!" I said, quite annoyed.

"No, they wouldn't release it to anyone but me.  
I had to."

"Did you need it that badly?" I asked, still 
irritated.

"Charles, it was over $700.00!  Yes I had to have 
it!" She spoke harshly to me.  It was the first 
time hard words were exchanged.

I got up from my desk and went past her, and 
walked to the living room.  I looked out a front 
window from behind venetian blinds.  The way they 
were tilted, no one could see from the street.  
"What kind of car does he have?" 

"A maroon Buick Century, an old model, a 92 I 
think."

"Nothing out there, maybe it wasn't him."

"Maybe," she said.

I looked at her, and two vertical lines were 
prominent in between her eyes.  I shared her 
fear.  There might be a man with a gun somewhere 
out there, with us in mind.

Trying to ease the tension I said, "Sweetheart, 
I'm sorry, let's not invent problems.  There are 
thousands of maroon Buicks out there."

"At the Pecan Creek Nursing Home?" she asked, 
taking no false comfort.

"You've got a point.  Let's just keep our eyes 
open."  I said.  

The bell beside Mother's bed began to jingle and 
Ola went to her.

The rest of the day was uneventful and at 9:00 
PM, the shadows closed in and by 9:20 it was 
dark.

At midnight, she said, "He's on the graveyard 
shift up at the Jeep plant," she said, "He's 
never been one to lay off his job." 

If her posture was any indicator of her anxiety 
level, then it was low.  The knowledge that Niles 
was at work must have given her some measure of 
comfort.  She sat on the couch, her hips forward, 
her shoulders against the back, her legs straight 
before her, ankles crossed, barefoot.  She was 
wearing a light robe again, a pink puffy one this 
time, untied.  The thin gown was underneath. 
Across the room, I was slumped on the loveseat. 
The television had been on low so we could detect 
any strange sounds.  I gazed at her, glad to see 
her normally placid face regain its pose.  She 
turned her head toward me and caught me staring, 
and smiled.  I returned the smile, and she held 
my eyes.  

Since that volatile Sunday night, when the sexual 
conflagration consumed us, we seemed contented to 
only tentatively touch and kiss.  We had not 
slept in the same bed.  Perhaps we were afraid of 
an anticlimax, for I had never before been so 
moved and so gratified sexually.  If Ola had not 
been content since then, she never indicated it.  
She had seemed to be as sated as I was.  

Tonight her hair was swept and gathered at the 
back of her head.  A "ponytail" almost seemed an 
irreverent expression. Her face showed an almost 
alien splendor.  "You're beautiful," I said.

"I'm the female hulk," she said. "That's what 
Niles called me."

"He was blind." I said.

"He said, and I quote: `Your ass would make three 
of mine.'"

"I wish it were it my hands right now," I said.

"His ass?" she smiled.

I threw a throw cushion at her.  She giggled.

"Charles?"

"What?"

"You make me feel like a woman," she said.

"You are a woman," I said.

"He made me feel like a cow, lumbering through 
the house." The smile was gone.

"You're a goddess," I said.

The smile came back and she stared at me.  After 
a long moment, she drew her feet back till they 
touched the couch, and parted them.  Her big 
rounded knees spread open.  Her thighs lay inside 
her gown like smoothed fallen columns, ending in 
a beautiful darkness somewhere.

"Would you really like to hold it in your hands?" 
she asked.

"What, his ass?" and she threw the pillow back at 
me.

Ola then took the hem of her gown and pulled it 
up to her navel, and spread herself wide.  "You 
know this is all yours, don't you?"  She lay the 
flat of her palm in her pubic hair.  The smoky 
curls spiraled out between her fingers.  "You 
remember, I said I'd do anything for you, don't 
you?  You realize that you can do anything to me 
you desire, don't you?"

"Ola, when you say that to me.you know, any 
`thing?' Do you know what it does to me?"

"What?" she asked.

"Your whole being just runs together in my mind.  
As if you are one wonderful bundle, and I can't 
think of any one `thing.' All I can think of is 
you."

"Lie down," she said. 

I tossed the throw cushion into the floor, slid 
off the loveseat, and lay my head on the cushion, 
and stretched out flat.  Ola still sat, slouched 
on the couch, her hand on her pubis.

"Shut your eyes," she said. "Don't open them till 
I tell you."

I shut my eyes.

"Put your hands up into the air," she said.

I reached for the ceiling.  Then I heard her 
heavy steps padding toward me.  Movement took 
place over me, and my shoulders felt something 
touch them.  I knew, in reason, she had straddled 
me.  

"Open your eyes, she said."  I expected to see 
her pointed chin, her perfect teeth across her 
smiling mouth, her rosy, high cheekbones and her 
flashing blue eyes.  What I saw, was what I said 
I wished to hold.  

Over two feet across, it was sheathed in the 
whitest skin I think I had ever seen.  Not a 
freckle, not a mole, broke this vast symmetrical 
landscape.  It's only feature was the long 
crevice that divided the hemispheres.  I placed 
my palms lightly on both cheeks and grazed across 
the smoothness, letting my hands slide lightly 
over her to the extremity of her width.  It was 
there that I pushed in from both sides, and 
kneaded the firm flesh that defined her hips. I 
took handfuls of her as I massaged down to the 
backs of her thighs, squeezing up to, but not 
over, the line of pain.  Then I worked my way 
back toward the center, watching the opening and 
the closing of the cleavage as I alternately 
spread, and then repressed both buttocks.  

Through all of this mirrored groping with both 
hands, Ola was crooning with pleasure.  She 
obviously loved the touching, and the even firmer 
grasping, and she complimented me with her 
affirmations of, "Yes, oh Charles, yes.  Oh 
please, yes!" 

Of course, the most prominent foci to me were her 
two centers of sensitivity.  They presented 
themselves each time I spread her wide.  The 
smaller of these open cusps was surrounded by an 
ellipse of darker flesh, which elongated toward 
her vulva.  It was precisely here that I licked.  
The few hairs that marked that trail were easy 
for my tongue to feel, and my lips to pull. I 
felt the press of her greatness against my mouth 
as I sucked, and I breathed in her aroma.  My 
tongue flicked at what was to me the upper, and 
to her, the lower fold of her vaginal opening.  
Her fluids were afloat on my tongue and the 
wonderful grassy taste of woman came back to me 
after so many, many years.  

Ola adjusted the movement of her posterior to my 
ever-lengthening licks. When I licked toward her 
clitoris, I felt her busy fingers already at 
work.  She had not deigned to take me into her 
mouth.  Indeed, she could not, and sustain the 
increasing frenzy to which I was witness.  
However, she retained enough interest in my own 
pleasure to hesitate on her downward plunges, 
just short of her anus.  She did not venture to 
bring its ring across my tongue.  This was 
amusing to me, and made me love her sensitive 
spirit, though obviously she was lusting for my 
mouth on her ass hole.  

I risked breaking her pleasure by steadying the 
violence of her hips.  "Wait darling, wait 
sweetheart," I said tenderly.  

She immediately froze, perhaps for fear she had 
assumed too much.  Just at that moment, I spread 
her cheeks, firmed my tongue and plunged it into 
her anus, squirming it, and darting it around the 
muscled rim.  When she felt it, she sobbed in 
guttural pleasure, "Oh God in heaven! Yes!"  

Between my tongue and her fingers, Ola lunged 
into another violent orgasm, bucking and grinding 
against my face as she had done against my penis 
two nights ago.  As she stilled, I felt her cheek 
stroking against my erect penis.  I thought she 
might finish me with her mouth, but then she 
reversed her direction and her broad face loomed 
over me.  

I felt the tender moist walls of her vagina 
slowly swallow me up until the hardness of our 
pelvic bones jabbed at each others hips.  Then, 
by degrees, her heaviness pressed on me. She was 
eyeing me closely, measuring her decent as she 
sank.  I could breath, I was not choking, but I 
was pressed.  Then, this colossal two-hundred-
pound, six-foot woman began a circular massage, 
using her whole body.  I could feel my foreskin 
peeling back, shifting around inside of her, hot 
and naked inside her wetness.  When I came, she 
covered my mouth with her own, consuming me with 
her tongue, her weight pressing the pleasure into 
every pore of my body.

"Well, you finally got somebody to suck your ass, 
didn't you?" Niles said.





<1st attachment end>


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