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Message-ID: <30605asstr$991717804@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: anon584c@nyx.net (Uther Pendragon)
Reply-To: anon584c@nyx.net
Subject: {ASSM} <Dulcinea> "His Favorite Day" {Pendragon} (MF rom cons)
Date: Tue,  5 Jun 2001 01:10:04 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
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IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18, or otherwise forbidden 
by law to read electronically transmitted erotic 
material, please go do something else.

    This material is Copyright, 2000, Uther Pendragon.  
All rights reserved.  I specifically grant the right 
for all reproduction necessary for normal Usenet 
propagation.  I specifically grant the right of 
downloading and keeping ONE electronic copy for your 
personal reading so long as this notice is included.  
Reposting requires previous permission.

     Many of my other stories can be found at:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Uther_Pendragon/www

    If you have any comments or requests, please E-mail 
them to me at anon584c@nyx.net.  

    All persons here depicted, except public figures 
depicted as public figures in the background, are 
figments of my imagination and any resemblance to 
persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

                      #     #      #     #



=================
Snip
=================

His Favorite Day


Halloween was his favorite day in the whole year.

The jack-o-lantern he'd carved grinned out the window.  
Its reflection was the brightest light in the living 
room, and he'd even put a low-watt bulb in the porch 
light.

He peeked around the door to count the ghosts or 
pirates climbing up to their porch.  He grabbed up two 
wrapped Reese's Peanut Butter Cups apiece and knelt 
behind the door.

When the bell rang, he slid the door open wider and 
stuck out his long arm.  Waiting until he felt the edge 
of a bag under his wrist, he dropped the candy.  Then 
he repeated the process twice more.

"Painting your arm was too much," she said.  "And where 
is my candy?"  He always overbought for Halloween, but 
he was thoughtful enough to buy her favorite.  She was 
going to add five pounds in the next three days.

"It's only food coloring.  It will wash right off."  He 
took one wrapped cup from his stash and started to hand 
it to her.  "I have to drop it in a bag."  He pulled 
her blouse out with his right hand and dropped the 
candy from the dyed one.  She saw right then that she 
should change from her office clothes.  She had her own 
plans for this night.  He would stay close to the door 
and answer every ring of the doorbell.  She didn't 
mind; it was a subtler form of bondage.

By the time she was back dressed in one of his old 
shirts and an old skirt, another crew was at the door.  
"It's green!" a voice screamed from the porch.  It 
sounded like a mother, rather than a child.  There were 
shrieks of laughter and then a clatter of small shoes 
on the steps.

"See?" he asked.  Somebody had noticed his green arm.  
He, she knew, was sure that one response was worth the 
time, the effort, the green-spotted towels.  And that 
poor woman, expecting something else, seeing the green 
arm extending towards her in the near-dark.

He drew the shirt's neckline away from her body.  
"Don't want to drop these on anything delicate," he 
said.  His left hand touched her breast before he 
dropped the candy.  He brushed her nipple on the way 
up.

"If any of that gets on my breast . . ." she 
threatened.  Still, the touch stiffened that nipple.

"It's only *food* coloring.  I'll be glad to lick it 
off."  He pulled her into a kiss.  They were so lost in 
each other that neither heard the steps on the stairs.  
They jumped at the bell.

She pulled the shirt halfway out of the skirt band, 
reached in and got the candy.  She nibbled her Peanut 
Butter Cup while planning her next move.

Several groups came one after the other.  When she came 
back for her next candy, he held her neckline with his 
right hand and reached his green hand under her skirt 
to pull the hem of the shirt down.  He stroked her 
thighs and even the wet spot of her panties.  Only then 
did he place another piece of candy in her shirt, 
stroking her breasts on the way in and on the way out.

Sounds on the porch proclaimed a large group.  She left 
him, dropping her newest treat on the kitchen table and 
her panties on the chair.  She headed out the back 
door.  The cool air with a threat of rain made her 
shiver, sneaking under her skirt and through the shirt.  
The groups coming up the walk now were hurrying to beat 
the rain.  She gave way to the last arrivals, and soon 
was alone on the porch.  She rang the bell.  

The green hand groped forwards, offering the candy.  
She lifted her skirt and stepped over it.  Instead of a 
bag, he felt flesh.  He moved his hand in the other 
direction and felt more flesh.  Raising his hand 
trapped it in the juncture of her thighs.  He dropped 
the candy and turned his hand upwards.  He cupped her 
dripping pussy, playing with the outer labia.  "Mrs. 
Jones," he called softly.  "Or is it Mrs. Brown?  I 
think you are missing one piece of your costume."  

Somebody turned in their gate, braving the rain that 
was beginning to fall.  She stepped back, squatted for 
the dropped candy, and escaped around the house without 
looking at them.  Visibility was poor anyway.

"Well," he said after those visitors had scuttled away 
in the now-heavy rain.  "If you have a green cunt, it's 
your own fault."

"I don't know what you mean.  Did I hear you out here 
talking to Mrs. Jones?  It violates the whole spirit of 
Halloween to identify someone who is in costume." 

"I should know your pussy, after all the time I spend 
playing with it.  Anyway, you got caught in the rain 
out there.  Your hair's wet."

"And whose else do you play with that you can make the 
comparison?" she asked.

He held up another piece of candy in his right hand.  
"Come here and get it."  He kept hold of it while 
snaking his left arm under her skirt.  "Yep.  That was 
you all right.  How many of the neighbors saw you?"

"Nobody.  They may have seen you groping some woman on 
the front porch, but that's another story."

"Think anybody else is coming?"  

"No," she said.  "It's a dreary rain.  No thunder or 
lightning, but much too hard to ignore.  She moved away 
from him to turn off the porch light.  "Wash that arm 
before you come to bed."

While she listened to the water run in the sink, she 
wondered why he didn't just take a shower.  She was 
ready for him, after the teasing and the groping.  She 
couldn't believe that he wasn't ready for her, as well.

When he flipped back the blankets from his side of the 
bed, he was wearing a towel wrapped around his waist.  
Yanking the knot loose, she reached for his cock.  

She was already touching it when she saw that it was 
green.

Rui Jorge

rjnp@my-deja.com
ICQ 16515722
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-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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