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Subject: {ASSM} The Donor (Part 4) By Katzmarek (MF.Rom)
Date: Sun,  9 Mar 2003 17:10:03 -0500
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<1st attachment, "The Donor4.doc" begin>

The Donor4


By Katzmarek



This is entirely a work of fiction and to my knowledge original.
If I have plagiarised any part it is accidental and the author
would appreciate the pointing out of the error of his ways.
Please! I am not the British Intelligence Establishment.
It is written as a work of erotic fiction so, obviously, if you
have an issue with that then, <a
href="http://www.cartoonnetwork.com">www.cartoonnetwork.com</a>
was probably what you were looking for, young lad.





Jonathon Wetherall gradually became aware of the errant ray of
light insinuating itself through a little gap in the curtain. He
felt it tickling his eyelid and he knew if he prised his eye open
it would dazzle him. It took the shrill beep of the phone by his
bedside to jerk him fully aware.


Jonathon tried to grab it while still keeping his eyes shut.
First his glass of water, then the ashtray tumbled to the floor.
Eventually he had to open his eyes and grab the phone.
"Yeah? Um, Jonathon here, aw shit."
"Shit who, Jonathon? You make a woman feel wanted?
"Oh, hi Joanne," he said, "I, I just dropped my ashtray and a
glass of water and now there's a hell of a mess to clean up."
"Good exercise for you," replied Joanne, "it's time you kept
normal hours anyway."


"Are you sure you've never been a musician"? Joanne went on.
"Why?"
"Late nights, sleeping through the morning..."
"I learnt the banjo once," Jonathon said.
"Banjo? Why?"
"Well, there was this bit of music I heard once. I wanted to
learn it so I bought a fly-string."
"And did you learn it?"
"Nah, the strings were too rough on my fingers. So I took up the
drums."
"And?"
"No co-ordination between hands and feet."
"I know I'm going to regret this, but, what next?"
"Electric Guitar. I lost my apartment because of the noise."
"Jonathon," Joanne sighed, " you crack me up!"


"Now, honey," Joanne continued, "I'd better hurry because I have
a meeting in a few minutes. I think we need to start looking
around for a proper job for you."
"Proper job? I have a job..."
"Writing copy? Give me a break! How much does it pay?"
"Depends on my hours. Sometimes I can get a week's work in one
go."
"So! Does that mean they have you as a private contractor?"
"Um, Yes. They call me in when they need me."
"Good lord! Do me a favour?"
"What?"
"Don't try to make a living as a contracts lawyer, you'll starve,
ok?"


"I'll be late tonight, around 10ish. I'll pick you up, ok?"
Joanne said.
"I may be busy," Jonathon replied.
"How long does it take to feed the cat? See you tonight."


Jonathon dabbed at the mixture that had now turned to a black
slime, with a cloth. Roxy the cat had long given up her curiosity
and had re-occupied Jonathon's place in the bed.
"I shouldn't let her do it," he told the uninterested cat, "she
treats me like a cross between a servant and a third-world relief
project."
Roxy adjusted herself to catch the last vestige of Jonathon's
body-heat.




After the first night, the post-coital glow had lasted fully
three days. She'd gone when he'd woken up and there was a note on
the nightstand with $50 pinned to it. It said,
'Jonathon,
I need a shower and a change of clothes.
Take the 50 and buy a new Duvet, you can almost see through it.
I'll call you. 
Joanne'.


'So utterly Joanne' he thought when he read the note. It didn't
stifle the silly grin, though. It remained with him for the rest
of the week. There was definitely something in his character that
enjoyed being bossed about.


Then there was the sex. She'd been like a dam bursting, releasing
a flood of sexual feelings. Despite telling him that'
'It never did much for me,' and, 'don't expect the Karma Sutra,'
as soon as Jonathon's tongue found her clitoris, she couldn't get
enough of it.


Jonathon didn't consider himself a sexual athlete, far from it.
But he figured half the pleasure in sex was in the giving. So
he'd always taken care of his partners. Not that there'd been
that many. But because he'd had few lovers, he'd treated each one
as special.




The doorbell rang about 10.40pm. Joanne looked a little
breathless.
"I'm sorry, I'm running late, got your toothbrush?" she said.
"Um, yes, I mean no, er just a minute."
Jonathon scrambled for his overnight bag.


"Damned Minister!" Joanne grumbled in the car, " I'm sure he only
wanted to keep me there so he could peer up my skirt."
"Close your legs."
"Huh! I never thought I'd hear YOU say that."


"Now Jonathon," Joanne continued, "have you any University
qualifications or Trade Certificates, even."
"Um, Ph.D.?" Jonathon answered.
"Ph.D.? What! You're kidding me, what in?"
"History, Pre-European."
"You've a Doctorate in History and you're writing copy for a
Radio Station?"
"Um, yeah."


Jonathon explained that he'd liked University and hadn't wanted
to leave. So he'd kept on accumulating degrees and supporting
himself through teaching. The day came, however, when there
wasn't anything left to do except become a Professor and he
couldn't stand the repetition of teaching the same old stuff,
year in year out.


"Do you realise you could have spent the last 15 years heading
some Government Research Unit earning three hundred grand for
getting drunk with Senior Ministers?" Joanne explained.
"Um, I guess."
"We just need to train you to lie."
"Is that what you do?"
"Oh yes, honey, all the time."
"With your legs open?"
She was laughing when she dug him in the ribs.


"Bakhmi gorang?"
"I wondered what the aroma was," replied Jonathon as they entered
number 12.
"I picked some up on the way home. That Indonesian Restaurant
downtown makes up some for me when I work late."
"You have to have it with Singapore Tiger beer," Jonathon
explained.
"Of course," replied Joanne, "right here, and lakhsi for
afterwards."
Jonathon thought he had died and gone to heaven.


Joanne's lounge looked like a display in one of those big
department stores. Everything had been neatly arranged to create
an impression. Jonathon sat down carefully on the pristine sofa
lest he disturb the dust. He needn't have bothered as even the
dust did what it was told.


Joanne's idea of eating takeaways was to lay the punnet carefully
on the glass top of the coffee table and spread a white napkin
over her knees. The beer was on a coaster, a cloth was handy for
those unexpected spills. To Jonathon, it was an alien world.


The food, though, was divine and Jonathon savoured each morsel.
He didn't mind when Joanne reached across to wipe a speck from
the corner of his mouth. 


"That was excellent," said Jonathon sipping on his lakhsi. The
fizzy yogurt shake taking the edge off the chili.
"I've never seen anyone bolt chili down that quickly before. Have
you got any taste buds left?" Joanne asked him.
"It's a technique. I have a few quick mouthfuls until the burning
becomes too much, then I have a swallow of the lager. The lakhsi
then restores the palette afterwards. How do you handle it?"
"Simple! I told the restaurant to hold the chili for me. I
ordered extra for you to see if you'd flinch."
"And did I?"
"No, I might have known."


Joanne stretched herself in an exaggerated gesture.
"Right, get your buns upstairs. I have a couple of calls to
make," she said.
"What! At this time?"
"Time zones. The Yanks are finishing work and the Poms are having
their morning tea."
"Oh right!"
"Git!"


Jonathon made his way up the stairs to the Joanne's bedroom. Like
the lounge, it looked like a display window. Everything was
carefully in its place with not even a ruffled doily. He looked
around wondering where he should drop his clothes. He decided
eventually to fold them neatly over the chair by the dresser.


As Jonathon lay in bed waiting for Joanne he absently checked the
cover to see if he'd ruffled it too much. He left the bedside
lamp on dim. He wanted to watch the show when Joanne came up.


A half an hour later Joanne appears.
"You awake?" she asked.
"Of course," Jonathon answered.
"Don't get you hopes up tonight, Jonathon, I'm too tired, it's
been a long day."
"Ok," he mumbled.
"Oh! Put away that bottom lip."


Jonathon didn't get much of a show. Joanne picked his clothes up
from the chair and put them away in the wardrobe, he noted that
for future reference. She then took some pajamas and went into
the en-suite to change. He listened to her brushing her teeth and
washing.


When she re-appeared he watched her walk towards the bed in her
green PJs. He liked the way her full breasts wobbled under the
fabric, the way the material clung between her legs. He was
instantly erect and he wanted her.


Joanne eased herself into bed and bent to kiss Jonathon. Jonathon
tried to hold her lips to his, to get her to accept his tongue.
She pulled back with difficulty.
"Easy big boy," she said, " maybe tomorrow morning, I'm going in
late."
"I want you," whispered Jonathon.
"Yes, I know. The mind might be willing but the body isn't.
C'mon, put your arms around me, you can spoon me."
Jonathon put his arms around her, his hands agonisingly close to
her breasts.
"Jonathon! Put that thing away will you, it's bruising me."
"It's got a mind of it's own," he replied.
"I doubt 'mind' is the word."


Jonathon eventually got his erection under control. He listened
to Joanne's breathing for a while, took in the smell of her
shampoo. After a while he whispered,
"Joanne?"
When there was no answer he began to slide his hand down towards
Joanne's breasts. Just before he reached the 'Holy Grail', her
hand intercepted his and pushed it away.
"Get off, go to sleep," she mumbled.


"Question?" Jonathon said.
"Oh no! Not this game again. Go to sleep."
"I'm not tired."
"Well I am."
"You can sleep in."
"I didn't have 'sleep' planned for the morning. If you want your
jollies you'd better get some sleep."
"I love you."
"Oh rubbish! Jonathon, you haven't known me five minutes."


"Something I'm curious about," said Jonathon.
"Save it to the morning."
"What did your dad do to you?"
"Jonathon! Why do you want to know that stuff for?"						     
"Curious."
"What do you think he did? He felt me up, now for the last time,
good night."
"Goodnight."
Jonathon snuggled into the warm body in front of him and tried to
go to sleep.




The first thing Jonathon became aware of was the smell of roses.
It pervaded the bed linen and the pillow beneath his head. His
arm was still outstretched in front of him but the body it had
enclosed had disappeared. His hearing sense was immediately on
alert.


He thought he detected the faint sounds of activity, the banging
of cupboards far off in the distance. Then someone talking,
Joanne's voice but muffled. The voice grew in clarity accompanied
by the thump of feet climbing the stairs.
"... Told me that report would be ready... No you gave me that
excuse George... I need that yesterday... That's right... Oh
you'd better, this time... Goodbye George."


Joanne blew into the bedroom, clearly unhappy. She set a tray
containing two mugs on the nightstand.
"C'mon, wake up Jonathon." Her voice had that 'edge'. Jonathon
sat up and accepted the coffee.
"Anything the matter?" Jonathon asked, concerned.
"Just work... I don't want to talk about it."
"Joanne. I care about you, you know."
"Yes, I know sugar. I'm just not used to it. You have to have
patience with me."


They sat up in bed together drinking their coffees. Joanne stared
straight ahead, deep in thought.
"Y'know, I envy you in a way," she eventually told him, "you've
no-one looking over your shoulder. No-one to answer to, orfor."
"I guess."
"No pressure. I've never had that... my whole life... there's
always been pressure." Jonathon shrugged.
"I sometimes wonder what life might have been like if I hadn't
been so... focussed, y'know."


Joanne put down her mug and leaned closer.
"He started by touching my titties," she suddenly said.
"What? Who?" replied Jonathon.
"Dad. Here give me your hand... like this, see?"
Joanne took Jonathon's hand and put it over her nipple.


"He said they would grow bigger, like mum's. He was right."
"Oh."
"He played with them, pinched them. Made them stand up."
Jonathon began to pinch her nipple.
"He was gentle, always. He put his mouth on it, kissed and licked
it. Jonathon," Joanne said exposing her right breast, "kiss my
titty?"


Jonathon bent to the task, flicking her nipple with the point of
his tongue before drawing it into his mouth. He carefully traced
her swelling flesh with his fingertips.
"We could buy a house-bus and live on the beach for 6 months," he
told her. "I could make jewelry... hand printed cards... sell
them at fairs..."
"What... uh... would I do?"
"I don't know... make apple wine... If it was no good... we could
run the bus on the stuff..."
"Can you see me... uh... as a hippie? Peasant dresses and...
uh... love beads?"
"Sure! We could fuck... under the... stars."
"The other one... needs attention."


Jonathon took the proffered left breast and repeated the
procedure.
"Take my... hand," Joanne breathlessly ordered. "Show me your...
dickie. Will I grow a dickie?"
"Huh? Um, no... Here," Jonathon said, placing her hand on his
hard cock. Joanne slowly began to jerk him.
"Oh, it's all hard... and warm... and sticky... on the top...Why
haven't I got one?"
'Because... because... oh that feels good..." Jonathon panted.
"Because... you have a... pussy instead... Here... inside your
pants... where I have my dickie... see?" He pushed his hand down
the front of Joanne's PJ's.
"So hot in here... I'll have to take off... my pajamas," Joanne
purred as Jonathon lightly stroked her moist slit.


Jonathon lay on top of Joanne, his erection nestled along the
folds of Joanne's pussy. He bent down to kiss her passionately
again, open mouths, tongues swirling, playing with each other.
His face inches from her he whispered,
"Can we play grown-up games now?""What games... did you have...
in mind, Jonathon?"
"I want ... to be inside you... now," he whispered.
"Don't ask... do it."


Joanne kneaded Jonathon's arse cheeks, trying to pull him deeper
into herself. Jonathon was very horny and was desperately trying
to pace himself.  It didn't help that Joanne was whispering in
his ear,
"Yes... like that... that's right... a bit harder..."
Instead he started moving from side to side and around, trying to
lessen the friction. Joanne was trying to follow, humping back at
him.
"Um... can we try... something else... I'm ready to blow... need
to cool off..." Jonathon gasped.
"Oh! Don't come yet.... What did you... have in mind..."
"Reverse... you on top..."
"Ok... get off."


Joanne sat on Jonathon's thighs playing with his erection.
"You're enjoying yourself, you're in charge," he said.
"You prefer to pin the lady down, then? Whose power trip is
that?"
"Actually I don't mind you pinning ME down. I get a nice view."
"Voyeur! You're leering!"
"So what!" Jonathon said, "you've got such a nice body."
"It's female, Jonathon, that's all."
"It's gorgeous."
"Oh rubbish!"


Joanne rubbed the tip of Jonathon's penis up and down her slit
before carefully easing him inside her. Once she had him full
inside she began to move backwards and forwards.
"Put your hands... on my bottom... like that," she told him.
Jonathon stroked her cheeks while watching her swaying breasts,
dangling in front of him.
"Did daddy enjoy this too?" He asked.
"Pervert! Actually, we... never fucked...uh... squeeze me...
uh..."
Joanne began to move faster, backwards and forwards, but with an
up and down movement as well. She then moved forward on her
haunches and stroked rapidly down on him before stopping and
resuming her previous movement.
"That's better... uh... you were going soft..."


Jonathon grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her down. Joanne
opened her mouth to say something but was silenced as Jonathon
thrust his tongue between her teeth. She eagerly frenched him
back. Jonathon rolled her over on her back and re-inserted
himself. He gave her a series of rapid-fire strokes that left her
panting for breath.
"Oo... assertive!" she told him in mock admiration. Jonathon
withdrew. "Hey! Finish what you... started."
"Over," he ordered.
"What are you going to do?"
"On your hands and knees, C'mon," Jonathon said firmly.


"You watch where you put that thing. I don't do kinky, Jonathon,"
Joanne said as he moved behind her.
"Wouldn't dream of it," he said, running his hands over her back
and bottom.
"You would! Uh... that's not the right place."
"Just teasing...there... that better?" he said pushing himself
into her from behind.
"Much... good... put your hand there... rub me... yes... like
that..." Joanne instructed.


They soon found a rhythm, Joanne stabbed back at Jonathon,
matching his thrusting. Jonathon's fingers drummed on her
clitoris in time, making her gasp and moan with pleasure.
Jonathon watched the arch of the body in front of him, now
glistening with perspiration, undulating, twisting in excitement.
The hair hanging down, loose from its usual bindings, some
strands clinging to her back.


Jonathon increased his speed and power, sensing an impending
orgasm. Joanne gripped the headboard with one hand to steady
herself.
"Go easy... uh... oh... your driving me... uh... into... the
wall... oo..."


He was soon reaching the point of no return and gripped Joanne's
backside with two hands, driving himself deeper and faster.
"Oh... god," Joanne groaned with increasing urgency, "that's
it... more..." Her breathing became sporadic as Jonathon pistoned
into her, ready to explode. 


He let fly, not being able to hold back any longer. As he groaned
out his orgasm, Joanne urged him to continue,
"Nearly... keep going..." Jonathon found her again with his
fingers and rubbed her until she stiffened with her own crisis.
The breath exploded from her, she jammed back on his dick, trying
to get every millimetre inside her.
"OHHHH...FUCK...OHHHHH," she hollered and flopped onto her
tummy.


Jonathon lay down beside her, a hand draped over her shoulders.
"Should have put... a towel down." Joanne said eventually.
"Eh! Why?"
"Stains... the sheets..."
"Fuck the sheets... buy some more," Jonathon replied lazily.
"I should hire you as my Accountant," replied Joanne, ruffling
his hair.










































<1st attachment end>


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