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Message-ID: <41167asstr$1047028202@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Medea F.K." <medeafk@hotmail.com>
Mime-Version: 1.0
Subject: {ASSM} Not Enough (flash)
Date: Fri,  7 Mar 2003 04:10:02 -0500
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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I'm back after a bit of a break, with a short piece on an idea I've been 
tossing around for a while.  As always, I love your feedback.  --Medea
------

	This is not enough, she thought.  Not enough to keep me here at all.  So 
she left him, her boyfriend of two years, moved from Kansas to Chicago, and 
tried to start over.  But starting over is never easy, and meeting new 
people is slow.  For a few months, she thought she saw him in the midst of 
crowds, at the grocery store, at the mall.  She found a job in accounts 
receivable, in a small office of friendly, boring people, and let the petty 
concerns to day-to-day life distract her for a while.
	This was not enough, either, but it would do for a while.
	She let herself work late, built up her reputation as a solid employee, let 
six months slide by.  And then one Saturday she woke up after sleeping in 
'til mid-morning, and knew what she had to do.  It was time to have a social 
life again.
	She went shopping.  She bought sexy black underwear, somewhat impractical 
strappy black heels, and a dress that was low-cut and form-fitting to a 
point that would make her friends back in Kansas blush.  She had her nails 
done, her hair cut, and then she went home to relax for a while.
	Nine PM saw her entering a club the local weekly papers called 'trendy', 
'stylish', and 'the place all the coolest Gen-Xers will want to be seen'.  
She entered the crowds with the best show of confidence she could muster, 
making her way to the bar, then finding a place nearby to sip, watch, and be 
seen.
	She made eye contact with men from across the room, smiling in a way she 
hoped was flirtatious.  When her drink was finished, she danced, sometimes 
with others, sometimes alone, enjoying the opportunity to do as she pleased. 
  After a while, one tall, handsome man she had been dancing with asked if 
she might want to head somewhere more private.  And even as she savored the 
smell and warmth of his body, she declined, almost apologetically.  When the 
song ended, she found a place to sit down again, and think about why.
	In her head, she imagined all of the men in the room with pants open, cocks 
stiffly poking out, stroking themselves as women watched on, then knelt to 
lick and suck.  All this sexual energy in the room, but what was it worth?  
She laughed at the absurdity of it all, of thinking casual sex and the 
affection of mere strangers could sate a deeper desire, for something that 
felt like touch but pushed far below the surface.  She let the men return to 
dancing, once again fully dressed, and started home for a long, hot bath, 
and the pleasures of her own fingers.

--
Medea
medeafk@hotmail.com		http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/medea/www




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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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