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Message-ID: <32251asstr$999040203@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: marklemagne@canada.com
Subject: {ASSM} "Reawakening" (M/F, oral, rom)
Date: Tue, 28 Aug 2001 19:10:03 -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


Hello,

I would like to submit this story to the ASSM newsgroup. It is
entitled "Reawakening." The story codes should be M/F, oral, rom.
I am the author and you can do with this story as you see fit.

Thanks!

Marklemagne

__________________________________________________________
Get your FREE personalized e-mail at http://www.canada.com

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

Reawakening
Deb and Bill in the laundry room...M/F, oral, cons, rom
By Marklemagne

A free press must be used responsibly. If you shouldn't read this
story because it might make you feel strange and want to do
things that mom and dad and pastor said are wrong, then stop
reading. This is a true story. No, really it is. Some, but not
all, of the names have been changed. This is one in a series of
sexual adventures of people I know. It did not happen to me,
although I wish it had. My avocation is to get people to tell me
true sexual escapades then convert them into these stories. I
hope you enjoy it. Feedback is always welcome at
marklemagne@canada.com. You can save a copy of this for your
off-line enjoyment and repost it, as long as you give me credit
and don't charge people to read it.

---
Tony had only been dead about five months, but Deb felt like it
had been a lifetime since she had shared anything remotely
intimate with anyone. And those last few months, as the cancer
took its toll on Tony, there was no way he could make love to her
as they once did...a million light-years away and several eons in
the past. She hadn't missed the sex then, her mind was filled
with sorrow even before Tony died and there was no room and no
time for such trivial things like sex when they had to fit a
lifetime of living into a few short weeks. At 34, Deb was too
young to be a widow, but she was. Tony's cancer tore through
their lives like a tornado, leaving rubble and destruction in its
wake and leaving Deb alone to care for Claire and Ryan. This
wasn't the way it was supposed to be, she told herself over and
over. This doesn't really happen; it's like a bad made-for-TV
movie. But it had happened, and Tony had died and was buried next
to his grandparents under a 200-year-old oak tree in Deepdale
Cemetery. And Deb was alone with the children. No skills...a
stay-at-home mom...alone. Sure, there was the insurance. Tony had
been a municipal worker, so he had decent benefits and Harrisburg
was small enough that even the mayor had come to the funeral and
promised to take care of Deb and the kids. She was getting by on
his insurance money and going to the local community college
where she was working toward an associate's degree in accounting.
Five months. She brushed a strand of blonde hair out of her eyes
and looked out through the kitchen window. Claire and Ryan were
playing on the swing-set with Bill Duncan, a co-worker of Tony's
who had been helping her rake the leaves that had left a
knee-deep carpet of brilliant red and yellow and brown on the
lawn. Bill had been coming around more often than any of Tony's
other coworkers and Deb appreciated the help he provided. He was
good with the children and he didn't hesitate to work around the
house, unlike some of the others who merely stopped by to drink a
beer and hint around at giving Deb a little of what she had been
missing. No one was so brazen as to make a pass at her, of
course. But the men who came by to fix the roof or to roto-till
the garden looked at Deb with an eye that was not just a little
lecherous. There was something about a young widow with small
children alone in that big house that made their hearts beat a
little faster and their balls get heavier between their legs and
their cocks stir in their pants. It was a primeval drive that
made them want to come into her home, take control and feel her
submit to them. She was safe in her home; the drive these men
felt was not one of conscious lust, but rather something deep
within them that had been hard-wired into their psyche. But Bill
was different. He was married...no children. He was warm and open
and honest with Deb and he knew that she wasn't in need of a
guardian angel or a knight in shining armor. She needed a strong
back and someone with a pick-up truck who was willing to haul two
cords of firewood. Bill knew this and he played the part
perfectly. He didn't spend too much time alone with Deb, lest the
neighbors begin to talk, and yet he always seemed to sense when
something needed to be done around the house. Two years older
than Deb, Bill wasn't handsome, but he wasn't homely either. His
hair was thick dark brown and it tended to become too long
overnight. He stood about six feet tall and was toned from
working in the maintenance shed at the county garage. His hands
were rough and Deb thought that his fingers looked like a
pianist's. Bill was the kind of man who was cursed with whiskers
that were heavy enough to require a daily shave, but not full
enough that he could ever grow a decent beard. Deb had skin that
was a luxurious blend of ivory and cream and was so smooth to the
touch that it felt like velvet. Her sparkling blue eyes shone
paler than the sapphires, and well, to put it bluntly, her full
red lips were the kind she and her girlfriends referred to as
"blow job" lips. She always managed to have a warm red glow on
her cheeks, and one of the few luxuries she insisted on giving
herself was a weekly trip to the nail salon to have her manicure.
The nails stood like exclamation points at the end of her small,
soft hands. "Mom-meeee!"
Claire slammed through the screen door, her mittens flapping
behind her like twin kite-tails. She yelled again. "Mah-mee!"
"I'm right here," Deb replied. "No need to scream."
"Mom, can we have some hot chocolate, pleeeeze?" The little girl,
her visage a magical combination of her father's face and her
mother's eyes, leaned into her mother's legs and looked straight
up at her, wrapping her arms around Deb's thighs. "Why certainly,
darling," Deb replied. She turned to the pantry and took out the
cocoa mix. "Where is Ryan?" "He and Bill are putting the rakes in
the shed." Claire was six years old and Ryan was eighteen months
younger. Deb and her sister shared one thing in common. All their
husbands had to do was look at them cross-eyed and they got
pregnant. Tony and Deb had decided to start trying to have a
child when Deb learned she was already pregnant, and she had just
started back to work part-time in a job she loved, when she found
out she was pregnant with Ryan. As Deb put a saucepan of milk on
the burner to warm for cocoa, Bill and Ryan came stomping through
the back door. Ryan, like most small boys, was providing his own
soundtrack for life. He was incapable of moving from one room to
the next without some sort of "woosh" or other emotive noise. Deb
thought she probably said "stop exploding!" a thousand times a
day to Ryan. "Mama, put on a video," Ryan asked, dumping his coat
on the kitchen floor. "Put on a video, PLEASE," Deb replied. "And
pick up your coat. That's not where it belongs." "Please," Ryan
said. And he wooshed out of the kitchen into the den. Bill
laughed and followed Ryan out, saying that he would take care of
the videotape. The cocoa was ready by the time Bill returned to
the kitchen and Deb handed two cups to Claire. "There's one for
you and one for your brother," she said.
"I'm not his servant," Claire snorted.
"No, you're not. But take it to him anyway," Deb said.
Claire left the room and Bill and Deb were alone. There was an
awkward pause and then Deb asked him "How is Anne?" Anne was
Bill's wife. She was younger than Deb and Bill by three years.
The marriage wasn't necessarily a happy one, but there was little
inertia and no motivation to do anything about it. Anne and Bill
got along, but they had long ago stopped really loving each other
they way they had back when they were married. They lived
somewhat separate lives; she was plowing her energy into her
career and he was getting by as best he could. "Anne is fine," he
said, shrugging his shoulders. "She's working." Deb was taking
dishes out of the dishwasher and putting them away. Bill would
occasionally take a plate or glass out and help her. It was clear
that he didn't want to leave, but he didn't know how to ask if he
could stay. She didn't want him to go, anyway. There was some
kind of charge in the air, and Deb could feel her pulse thudding
away in her chest. Bill stood behind Deb and leaned against the
counter. She had her back to him and he took the opportunity to
look over her body. She was wearing an off-white wool sweater and
olive drab cargo pants; her sleeves were pushed up over her
elbows and her hair was pulled back and fastened into a ponytail
with a rubberband. Bill liked the way Deb's ass filled out the
cargo pants. There was just a hint of a panty line (which he
thought was way sexy) and a clear delineation of where her cheeks
met the backs of her thighs. Her sweater was loose, but Deb's
breasts were large enough to push the sides of the sweater out.
She wasn't overly large, but she wasn't small either. She had
managed to keep somewhat in shape after having two children, but
Deb would never again be centerfold material. Not that that
mattered to Bill. He knew he didn't rival Brad Pitt or a soap
star, and he didn't expect his women to be supermodels, either.
There was something incredibly sexy and beautiful about this
woman, he thought. She's smart, funny, strong... He felt a
stirring in his pants and unsuccessfully willed himself not to
get hard. "Oh, shit," he thought to himself. "Not now."
His tumescence was barely noticeable through his jeans, but to
him it felt huge. He wasn't fully erect, it was merely an
increased firmness which extended his cock downward and drew his
balls tighter in his crotch. It was not an unpleasant feeling, in
fact he welcomed it. It had been a long time since a woman had
made him excited in this way. Usually he required a bit of porn -
mostly sex stories or scenes from direct-to-video "erotic
thrillers" to stimulate himself. Anne was a good, patient lover,
but she was always so tired coming home from the city that their
sex life had dwindled to a few times a month - if that. Mostly he
resorted to jerking off to satisfy his urges. Sometimes, he
admitted to himself, he fantasized about Deb. She turned around
and started toward him, looking into his eyes with a sweet smile.
Deb got near to him and reached past his left ear toward a
cupboard. Trying to get out of her way, Bill dodged to his left,
then to his right and took a step forward. This placed him closer
to her and as she reached around him, her hip brushed his groin.
Something that felt like a spark shot up Bill's mild erection and
flooded his loins with warmth. For his penis, there was no going
back now and immediately the slightly firm organ filled with even
more desire and stiffened. Deb felt the spark, too. There was no
mistaking his erection for anything other than sexual desire and
immediately her nipples became erect and rubbed in pleasant
discomfort against the satin of her bra. Her heart rate jumped
and she unconsciously licked her lips. It had been so long since
there had been anything other than the maternal closeness she
felt for her children. Suddenly, she wanted tenderness, and she
wanted to be touched. Deb wanted to be needed and she was
thrilled by the idea that someone out there found a 34-year-old
widow with two children desireable. Placing the dish in the
cupboard, Deb withdrew her hand. But the dish wasn't seated
properly and it started to slip out of the cupboard. She leaned
forward to grab it, pushed it back into place and felt Bill's
erection once again against her hip. As she lurched to catch the
dish, her breasts pushed into Bill's chest and together, they
felt the hard tips. An embarassed laugh escaped from both of them
simultaneously as they were sure the other could feel their
desire. A power guided Deb's free hand forward and she placed it
on Bill's taut stomach. It moved there almost of its own will;
under ordinary conditions she never would have been so forward.
Something deep inside her wanted the contact, and she let it take
control of her. "You have very nice fingers," Bill said to her,
looking down at the hand on his stomach. She laughed and didn't
know what to say. Bill, feeling the same power as Deb, took her
hand in his own and held it softly. "I have always liked red
fingernail polish," he went on. "It's very sexy." Deb looked up
at him and smiled, her face becoming even more flushed with
desire. She licked her lips again, and Bill, acting so unlike
himself, took this as an invitation to kiss her. It was an
invitation and Deb welcomed the kiss. It was chaste; Bill didn't
want to move any faster than she would let him and he was frantic
that she would stop this wonderful moment. Soon, he felt her lips
move beneath his and felt her tongue on his lips. He opened his
mouth slightly, thanking the heavens he had eaten that Life Saver
while raking, and admitted her tongue into his warm mouth. She
thought he tasted delicious and his not-too-wet tongue was just
rough enough to spur on her desire. The two lovers broke apart
for a moment, long enough to rearrange themselves so that Deb's
leg fit between Bill's and she could feel his growing desire. Her
hand moved on his stomach as she leaned back into him for another
kiss. As their lips touched and his tongue extended, her hand
moved down over his belt buckle and continued down the front of
his jeans. This was remarkable, she thought. She was rarely the
aggressive one in sex play, even though she loved physical
intimacy. Clearly the months of being alone were driving her on.
Her hand felt his hard cock through the pants and she moved her
fingers up and down the rough fabric, feeling the penis jump
beneath her touch. Bill moaned into her mouth. "Come in here,"
she said, breaking away from him.
Deb grabbed Bill by the belt buckle with both hands and pulled
him into the nearby laundry room. Tilting his head downward to
kiss her again, he pulled the sliding door shut and leaned back
against the washer. Once the door was shut, Bill moved his hands
up the front of Deb's wool sweater and felt the swell of her
breasts beneath his fingers. They were bigger than Anne's and he
marveled at their delicious firmness. There was nothing that
compared to the indescribable feeling of a woman's breast beneath
his hand, Bill thought and he began to feel the painful
confinement of his cock. "mmm," Deb moaned into his mouth as
their tongues danced. She leaned further into him, pushing her
breasts hard into his grasp. "Oh, Bill." She looked up at him,
her eyes shining with mischief. Without taking her eyes off his,
Deb unbuckled his pants and unsnapped the jeans. She fumbled for
the zipper and once open, gently eased her hand inside to feel
his cock through the cotton of his underpants. He was so hard,
she thought, and he's hard because of me. His cock was more than
six inches long and wider around than a decent bratwurst. The
head was still spongy and she enjoyed the way his balls moved
under the tips of her fingers. Her ministrations were clearly
having an effect on him as his legs turned to rubber. Looking
down for the first time, she pulled his jeans down so they rested
just above his knees. His white jockeys were tented out in front
from his erection. She pulled her hand away and placed the
fingers of both hands on the waistband of his shorts. He gasped
as she pulled the waistband out and around his cock, which waved
like a flag pole in front of him. Exposed to the cool air, the
head remained spongy, even after she pulled the underpants down
to join his jeans. With her index finger and thumb, she gently
took his cock in her hand, and slid her fingers down its length
until her little finger rested in his black, wiry pubic hair. She
placed her other fingers gently on his penis and stroked back up,
bringing her other hand down to cup his balls. Bill swooned
beneath her touch.
Up and down, she moved her hand, all the time gently rolling his
balls in her other hand. Her index finger slipped underneath his
sack to rub his peritoneum and she noticed how heavy his balls
felt in her palm. She gradually increased both the friction and
the pace of her strokes as they kissed. Bill was kneading her
breasts through her sweater and he pulled his hands away and slid
them underneath the wool, up her stomach until he felt the fabric
of her bra. He pulled the sweater up further and they broke apart
as he took it off over her head. She was wearing a white, plunge
clip-in-front bra and he struggled with the clip. She took his
hands away and said "I don't want to take it off, OK?" "Sure,
whatever you want," he replied breathlessly and returned to
stroking her soft mounds through the silky fabric. "Hop up here,"
Deb said, tapping the washer.
Bill jumped up and landed on the icy metal top. The cold was
shocking in comparison to Deb's warmth and she noticed the
goosebumps which appeared on his thighs. She wanted to take this
further, but she didn't want her first time making love with
another man to be interrupted by the children. Instead, Deb
leaned down and gently licked the head of Bill's cock, now hard
and shiny with desire. This was only the second man she had ever
been with, so she was immediately struck with how different
Bill's penis felt in her mouth. It was thicker than Tony's. With
her hand around the base, she licked around the head of the cock
and felt it moving beneath her touch. Tilting her head to the
side, she licked down one side of the shaft and then back up the
other. Bill was moaning as he tried to figure out what to do with
his hands. He didn't want to put them on her head, lest she gag
or feel trapped, so he put them down on the washer and leaned
back a bit. She engulfed his cock and took as much of it into her
mouth as she could, then pulled back, sucking gently. When she
got to the head, she licked it and gave his shaft a stroke with
her hand. Repeating the process, Deb felt the cock growing even
harder in her mouth and she felt his head get taut. A saltiness
overwhelmed her tastebuds, and she recognized it as his precum.
Deb licked the slit and was rewarded with a tiny globule of clear
fluid which she stretched with her tongue. Bill saw the string
stretch from his cock to her tongue for an instant before she
plunged down once again and swallowed. He could feel her warm
saliva on his penis, not too wet, but just enough to coat his
cock and make it a little slippery. Deb began moving her head up
and down, making quiet mewling noises of pleasure. Bill matched
her sounds with his own sounds of enjoyment and looked down as
this beautiful woman sucked his cock. As his fluid began to flow
more freely, Deb picked up the pace of her sucking and stroking.
He was getting close now and he wasn't sure what he should do.
Anne would only let him ejaculate in her mouth if they were in
the shower together and it had been close to a year since that
had happened. Under no circumstances would she ever swallow his
semen. "Oh, Deb..." Bill started. "Deb, I'm gonna cum..."
Deb moaned in reply, and increased the friction and pace yet
again. "Deb," he said again. "I'm gonna cum soon."
She drew his cock out of her mouth so just the head remained
inside. "So, go ahead and cum," she replied and returned to
sucking.
Oh my god, he thought. She's gonna let me cum in her mouth. The
thought of this forbidden pleasure drove him over the top and
with a groan he began shooting his load. Deb felt the penis jump
and the muscles pumping his ejaculate up from his balls. The
first blast hit the back of Deb's tongue and her mouth was
immediately flooded with the taste of semen, salty and warm. The
next shot struck the roof of her mouth and she stifled her gag
reflex as it flowed down her throat. She wasn't too fond of
swallowing, but it wasn't the worst thing in the world, she
thought. A final large blast followed the first two and joined
the remnants of his cum in a small pool on her tongue. She closed
her eyes and swallowed quickly, before the taste and texture
became too much. Even after the semen was gone, she could still
taste it and feel a little bit on her tongue. She pulled his
softening cock out of her mouth, licked it once for good measure
and stood up. "How was that," she purred.
"Oh, man. That was great," Bill replied. "Thank you. But what can
I do for you?" Deb leaned into Bill's arms and kissed him,
deeply. She knew he got a little taste of himself from her tongue
and she was silently pleased that he didn't recoil. "Bill, you've
already done a lot for me," she said after they broke apart.
"But..." he started.
"I got a lot of satisfaction out of being desired," she said.
"I'm not ready for anything more than that, and neither are you."
Bill stood up and fixed his clothing.
"You're right," he said, somewhat sadly. "But this isn't the end
of anything is it?" She smiled warmly at the man who had helped
rekindle something she thought was gone forever. "Of course not,
it's only the beginning," she said.



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