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Message-ID: <30094asstr$988737004@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Deja User" <empath69@my-deja.com>
Subject: {ASSM} "Alphabet Game: Palfrey" {Dancer} (no-sex)
Date: Tue,  1 May 2001 13:10:04 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d




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<1st attachment, "Palfrey.txt" begin>

SUBJECT LINE:
{ASSM}"Alphabet Game: Palfrey"{Dancer}(no-sex)


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Admonition: This story contains explicit descriptions of 
people engaging in careless and unprotected sexual 
activity.  PLEASE do not emulate these people since they 
are fictional characters existing in a fantasy world where 
sexually transmitted disease and unwanted pregnancy don't 
happen.  You don't live in such a world, so "let's be 
careful out there."

Oh, and minors shouldn't be reading this stuff - if you 
can't place the quote I just made in the last paragraph, 
you probably aren't old enough to be flipping through ASS*. 
Bugger off and watch 'TV Land' instead, so you can bone up 
for little age-testing quizzes like this! :)


Copyright notice: Dancer, the author of this smutty little 
opus, holds all rights of reproduction.  Private copies for 
personal perusal and archives for NON-commercial 
distribution are permitted by her.


Plea for attention: The only reward ASS* authors can expect 
is the joy of sharing their creation with the rest of 
humanity.  But wait - how does that author KNOW if people 
are reading and enjoying his story?  Yep; if you like a 
story posted to alt.sex.stories.*, the fair thing to do is 
email the author and tell them so.  I promise that it'll 
make YOU feel good to send them kudos, after all, Mark 
Twain said, "The best way to cheer yourself up is to try to 
cheer someone else up."  As always you may contact me (and 
my wife Dancer) through my 'legacy' Deja News email 
account:             <empath69@my-deja.com>  
(Wow, I'm not just an author, now I'm an AGENT, too!  ;)


Editor's Note: Here it is - part sixteen of Dancer's 
'Alphabet Game'; twenty-six hot, little vignettes she 
whipped out in something like a week or two - Lord Malinov 
eat your heart out with that semi-annual 'story-a-day' run 
I remember *way* back in the 20th century! ;) (Is he still 
around?)

And relax - these stories are all self-contained - you 
don't HAVE to read them in order, or read any of the ones 
that might squick you...

=============

The Alphabet Game (16/26)
Palfrey *
Copyright Dancer 2001

(* {Archaic} a saddlehorse, esp. a gentle one for a woman)


A polo match seemed like a good place to meet wealthy men, 
at least, that's why Roseanna was here. Most people called 
her a golddigger and if that means wanting a better place 
to live and money, then that's what Roseanna was. She 
stifled a gasp when one player hit the ball and it flew 
wildly, striking # 8's horse in the left foreleg. The 
animal dropped to the ground with a whinny, causing # 8 to 
tumble along side.

The game was halted as the horse was carried off the field 
to the waiting hands of its veterinarian. Loud voices 
floated over to Roseanna. The vet insisted the horse needed 
to be put down but # 8 was having none of it. Never one to 
see an animal hurt, Roseanna picked her way through the 
crowds towards the horse. The men continued to argue as 
Roseanna knelt near the equine's face, patting him between 
the ears. "Poor guy," she said as she toyed with his mane. 
He whinnied and started rocking his huge body, attempting 
to get to his feet. "No, stay down! You're hurt!"

"What in God's name are you doing?" asked the vet. He 
knocked her to the ground angrily. "Trying to kill 
Goliath?"

Roseanna tossed her curly hair off her face. "Watch it, 
bub. You were the one who wanted to shoot the poor thing." 
She gazed up at # 8. "Can't you let him heal and use him as 
a stud or something?"

# 8 tousled his sweat-soaked hair and tapped his helmet 
against a thigh. "You have a point, miss. Phil, take 
Goliath back to the stables and make him comfortable." Phil 
nodded and, with help, carted the horse away. # 8 held a 
hand to Roseanna and she used it to gain her footing. 
"Thank you for the idea, Miss...?"

"Roseanna, just Roseanna."

"Just Julian, Roseanna." He tilted his head to look at her. 
"Are you a friend of Damian's? I haven't met you before."

"I don't know Damian," Roseanna replied. "I crashed the 
game."

"Ah," Julian said. "A hanger-on. Well that's fine, then. No 
harm done."

She gaped at him. "You're not going to throw me out?"

"Why should I? 99% of the people here are crashers so one 
more isn't going to make a bit of difference." Julian held 
her hand and walked with her across the lawns. "Do you 
ride?"

"Don't know how," Roseanna shrugged.

Julian halted and clutched his free hand to his chest. "A 
beautiful woman such as yourself has never felt the 
controlled power of an animal between her thighs?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "I've ridden men but not 
horses." His cheeks ruddied at her answer and she giggled. 
"You didn't realize how that came out, did you?"

"I should have clarified what I meant, Roseanna." Julian 
cleared his throat. "Would you do me the honor of allowing 
me to give you a ride?" She laughed suddenly. "Made another 
entendre, didn't I?"

"Yes!" Roseanna croaked through her bout of laughing. 
Julian couldn't help himself and he chuckled along with 
her. She brought herself under a semblance of control by 
breathing deeply. 

"I wonder if you would be this much fun in bed."

"Depends."

"On what?" Julian asked, one side of his mouth quirked up.

Roseanna stroked his arm. "On whether you'd be a hot-
blooded stallion."

Julian pulled her up against him and wrapped his arms 
around Roseanna's slim waist. She rubbed herself over his 
groin, arousing him quickly. "Right now, I feel as randy as 
a goat. Care for a quick tumble in the hay?" Her answer was 
a soul-searing kiss Julian felt in the tips of his riding 
boots.

End part 16

=============

Editor's Postscript: I know; I was hoping to hear about a 
'tumble in the hay', too!  But look at it this way - your 
imagination will be much more entertaining, knowing exactly 
what you like, than *anything* someone else could come up 
with.  Even if that someone else is as talented as my 
wife... :)




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