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Message-ID: <30615asstr$991728603@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: mmtwassel@aol.com (mat twassel)
Reply-To: mmtwassel@aol.com
Subject: {ASSM} <Dulcinea> Covers  (MF Rom Cons) by Mat Twassel
Date: Tue,  5 Jun 2001 04:10:03 -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


Covers  (MF Rom Cons)
by Mat Twassel (mmtwassel@aol.com)

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

Just after midnight he phoned again.  "It's going to be 
at least another hour, maybe two," he said.  "Don't 
wait up."

"I'll wait up," she said.  "I want to.  And besides, 
tomorrow's Saturday.  We can sleep late.  And besides, 
I have something to tell you."

"Actually today's Saturday," he said.  "What do you 
have to tell me?"

"You'll just have to wait," she said.  "It's not a 
phone kind of a thing."

"Now you've got me wondering."

"Hurry home, sweetie."



He could tell she'd tried to wait up.  The bedside lamp 
was still on.  The paperback book was on the floor atop 
a reckless mound of kicked-off summer covers.  She lay 
on her side, her arms loosely around his pillow, naked 
except for that old jogging singlet of his.  She was 
fast asleep.

"My sweetie," he whispered to himself.  He picked up 
the paperback and set it on the nightstand.  As he 
undressed, he admired the lovely smoothness of her 
shape, the effortless flow of her repose, her sleek 
long legs calmly becoming haunch, the sweet curve of 
her ass.  Her pussy lips looked so innocent from this 
angle.  By the time he had his underwear off, his 
erection was almost full.

She shifted under his stare but stayed asleep.  He 
studied her: the bare breast beneath that loose 
tanktop--from the side he could see almost all its 
gentle fullness, even the puff of nipple lifting and 
settling with each sigh-soft breath; a tendril of hair 
whispering to the delicate whorl of ear; the tender 
bump at the nape of her perfect neck.  He switched the 
lamp off, picked up the covers, and stepped around the 
bed.  As gently as possible, he entered it.

Careful not to disturb her slumber, he let the light 
blanket flutter over her lower body, then he stretched 
out beside her.  "My love," he said, and his lips 
grazed her fingers. A soft shock struck his nostrils: 
upon her fingertips he smelled her sweet cunt scent--
wild meadow, honey, sea.  He smiled, picturing those 
fingers at their work, wishing he had been early enough 
to interrupt her, to witness from start to finish the 
flow of her passion, the flux of her release. Breathing 
her fingers, he soon fell asleep.



The storm woke her--a front moving through.  Wild rain, 
cold wind, cracks of lightning lighting for an instant 
everything.  She got up to check the windows.

"There he is," she said to herself upon coming back to 
bed. "My sweet tired man."  Apparently in his sleep 
he'd kicked the covers off.  "Resting like a little 
boy," she said.  "A sleepy little boy." About to cover 
him, she stopped.  Lightning flickered, silvering his 
body.  She gulped and shivered. "Big strong shoulders 
for a little boy," she said, and she climbed into bed.  
Her lips moved swiftly to those shoulders, and she 
kissed him there, but lightly so as not to wake him.  
"And a nice firm ass," she added, when the storm's 
flicker bathed that part of him.  Her fingers glided 
down, traced the muscles of his buttocks.  "Very firm, 
very nice."  While the rain rattled,she continued to 
caresses his ass, testing the fuzzy shadow, nuzzling 
her body against his.  After a while her hands roved 
gracefully to his front, seeking the special bulge. 
"And a nice cock," she whispered, finding it.  Her 
fingertips touched the warm skin, fondled gently the 
tender folds.  "Mmm, yes, a nice fat cock to fuck me 
with."  He was fuller now, fuller and firmer, and her 
fingers found their way around, gripped him, pulling 
up, but lightly, pushing down, but gently, pulling up 
and pushing down, just a little bit firmer this time, a 
little bit firmer next time, firmer and firmer each 
time, until he was fat and full and there was a slight 
hint of fluid at the tip.  "Sweet boy," she said, 
giving him a gentle squeeze.  "Sweet, sweet boy."  
Using her thumb she smeared the droplet of sap about 
the soft plump head of his penis.  Using her fingers 
she squeezed gently, a slow rhythm, like ocean waves, 
slow and steady, while the storm played itself into a 
steadier rain.  "So sleepy," she crooned.  "Sleepy cock 
so stiff and strong."  She rose up in the bed, knelt 
behind him, and leaning over his body, brought that 
full fat cock first to her nose that she could smell 
him and next to her mouth that she could taste him, 
just one sweet taste, one long taste, one sweet long 
lingering taste.  "Mmm," she said,  and while he was in 
there, filling her mouth, throbbing gently, she 
quivered, a rich satisfying quiver, and then it was 
time to let him go, time to let him sleep, but one last 
kiss before covering him. "Yes, sleep now.  Sleep."



They awoke to bird chips and the brush of sunlight.  
They reached for each other.

Cunt crammed with cock, she shoved up, wedging him 
deeper, clamping down. He pressed. She opened.  His 
grunt squashed her gasp.  She opened more. The weight 
of heaven and earth balanced on her clit. "Oh," she 
said, locking her eyes on his. "Oh, oh, oh." They 
clung, climbing each other's pleasure.  All the way up. 
Beyond.  

Afterwards they lay on their backs holding hands, 
basking in bliss and well-being.

"Are you okay?" he asked, turning towards her at the 
same moment she turned towards him. "Do you want some 
covers?" 

"You're all the covers I need," she murmured.

"You were going to tell me something," he said.  "You
said you had something to tell me." 

But she had already curled up underneath him and fallen 
asleep.

==============
Covers

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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