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Message-ID: <42276asstr$1052208603@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Ken G. Jones" <kenggjones@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} "Coming Home" by Cagey
Date: Tue,  6 May 2003 04:10:03 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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"Coming Home" - a story of consensual sex between two adults - by Cagey
(M/F)

(c) Copyright Cagey 2003. All rights reserved.


DISCLAIMER:

This is a story about consensual sex between two adults.  If, in any way, 
this offends you, is illegal for you personally to read, then stop reading - 
now!

***********************************************************

_Coming Home_

That's the trouble with being apart for months at a time! When we get 
together, all we can think of is sex!!

 From the time I meet her at the airport, we can't keep our hands to 
ourselves. When we meet there, at the bottom of the stairs, we kiss and it 
always develops into a long hard kiss; mouths straining against each other, 
tongues flashing, bodies pressed against the other; almost as if trying to 
become one; nerves jangling and very aware of the heat and the feel.

When we stop kissing, we hug and end up kissing again, pushing against each 
other as if trying to climb inside the other! My face will bury itself in 
the crook of her neck and I can smell her odour. It's not something I can 
describe; it's simply "her" smell and I'm suddenly at peace again and 
content to just stand there and breath her into my head!

At some point we will wake up enough to join the flurry of getting her 
baggage and finding our way to the shuttle into the city ..... but there are 
always touches and dumb faced grins at each other, until we are settled in 
the back of the shuttle van. Then, within seconds, we are hugging and 
kissing all over again; hands, ultra sensitive to heat and touch, are on the 
move; a breast cupped here, a hand on a thigh, grasping and searching, 
mouths glued together, trying to swallow one another. The outside world is a 
blur, it really doesn't exist any more; all that is, is encompassed in our 
straining bodies.

Now do you see why we are in the back seat?

But, really, who cares what the other passengers see or hear; who gives a 
damn, if the driver spends more time than usual checking the rearview 
mirror? The outside world is gone and mostly forgotten; "our" world becomes 
a place of touching and feeling; exploring, as we renew our acquaintance 
with the other; nothing else matters!

The trip into the city goes quickly but somehow seems to drag. Soon, 
however, we reach the drop-off point and transfer to a taxi; a short seeming 
run through blurred streets; holding hands or kissing again and again; 
glancing almost shyly at each other; smiles so wide they feel like your face 
will break; hand ever so softly to cheek; another kiss; softly this time; 
tongues extending, licking lips, faces; tasting and titillating.

At last, the Hotel; nerves jangling; bodies shaking; faces flushed. Still 
glancing at each other, smiles on cracking faces, touching and standing very 
close together. Check in, papers; unseen clerks and staff; down the corridor 
to the room .....

Inside, bags on the floor, drapes pulled, door locked and 'Do Not Disturb' 
sign quickly place on the outside handle; bedspread (maybe?) pulled back. 
Another long, long kiss; hands flashing; butts held and squeezed. There's no 
space between us; heat from our bodies transfers easily through our clothes; 
breathing, impossibly, quickens even more; our breathing and an occasional 
murmur of delight and a mumbled "I love you" the only sounds in the room.

Somehow clothes disappear; well not really, there are heaps here and there; 
discarded pants and jeans; shirt and blouse snuggling together, in a heap; 
underclothes together or where they fell. The bed is soft but breasts are 
softer; the bedspread feels smooth and cool to the touch but skin is warm 
and its soft smoothness feels so good under probing caressing fingers and 
hands; eyes follow hands or gaze totally bemused into other eyes, reflecting 
passion, excitement, desire, and expectation; kisses rain where hands touch, 
tongues lick and taste, saliva leaves cool trails on heated skin; bodies 
vibrate and tremble; blood engorges; need and desire exclude all else; 
fingers probe gently and slide into wet slick orifices; hands and fingers 
encompass and gently pull and slide.

Mouths, open with laboured breathing, slick with saliva and other juices 
taste, explore, and torment; and utter moans and groans of pleasures 
received and encouragement to continue. Bodies writhe and spasm to burning 
hot, wet torture; limbs spread and blood swollen orifices open, in wet 
swirls of pinks and red; a now wetted penis head enters, painfully slowly; 
sounds of groans and moans reach a crescendo, as hot wet flesh parts to 
enfold its passage; deeper, deeper still, until two are joined as one, in a 
pool of pleasure.

The feeling of being in a hot, velvet vice; the feeling of being filled with 
a hot, hard but soft instrument; the throbbing, twitching, and slow filling 
and wet, sliding friction; nerve ends screaming their pleasure, transmitting 
electrical shocks; pleasure coursing through ultra sensitive limbs, pooling 
in genitals. Like a brook, rushing down the mountainside, slowing for 
seconds in deeper waters, then rushing on again, swirls and eddies 
constantly appearing and disappearing, sparkling in the sunshine and dulling 
in the shade, rushing, slowing but ever moving, ever dancing.

The raging battle of sexual intercourse; the overpowering urge to come; the 
reluctance to enter the final moment; the desire reluctance, the gradual 
peaking to a fine pinpoint of white light behind the eyes; every muscle 
taught, straining, concentrating on the pleasure.

The quickening speed of entry exit; the pounding finale; the wet smacking 
sound of swollen flesh; the quick, hard plunges - the slight pause - the 
final, long, hard plunge and grinding of flesh against flesh at the end; the 
spasms, gripping, and milking; the frantic twitching and ejaculation, 
struggling to be deeper; the orgasm!

The quieting of breathing, the murmured love words; the residue of nerves 
subsiding from pleasure; the relaxation; the soft loving time of small quick 
kisses, "God, I love yous!" The time of lingering caresses, loving touches, 
long sighs of contentment; the lingering aftermath of orgasm.

The coming home!

(c) Copyright Cagey 2003. All rights reserved.





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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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