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Message-ID: <44081asstr$1061719804@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
Reply-To: "cmsix" <cmsix@DONTSPAMMEcmsix.com>
From: "cmsix" <cmsix@DONTSPAMMEcmsix.com>
NNTP-Posting-Date: Sun, 24 Aug 2003 00:33:35 PDT
Subject: {ASSM} <*>How Much is that Musey in the Window? (Flash nosex)
Date: Sun, 24 Aug 2003 06:10:04 -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

Author: cmsix
Title: How Much is that Musey in the Window?
Summary: Flash 299 words
Keywords: Flash nosex


How Much is that Musey in the Window?
--------------------------------------------

I kept seeing ASSD posts with authors talking bout muses. One's muse was
mad, another's was jealous. His wouldn't talk. Hers was a woman and she
wanted a man.

I thought, "Damn, cmsix, that's what you need. A muse."

Where could I get me a muse? If I had one I might write better. A woman muse
might make my heroes quit grabbin all them women. Typin all the sex scenes
was making me tired.

I put me an add in the muse personals.

Sure enough, one night I was sitting at the keyboard proofing Chapter 247 of
"John and Argent," and someone knocked.

I opened the door and there stood a woman, but she wasn't real. She looked
like a woman, and pretty too, but I could see plum through her. I didn't let
it bother me cause lots of strange shit happens in Texas. I let her in and
pushed the dirty clothes off my other chair, so she could set.

"I'm Esmerelda, I've come about your advertisement," she said.

"Howdy, I'm cmsix. That was me all right."

She looked around a little. I saw her glance at my waterbed and my
chiwallydog, Bear, who was chasing a cockroach.

Turning to me she asked, "Where is that peculiar voice coming from?"

"That's just Notpad, reading my last chapter to me. Just a sec, I'll shut it
off."

I made Notpad shut up and when I turned back to Esmerelda I saw her gawking
at my Skoal and my spit cup. Remembering my manners, I opened the Skoal and
asked, "Wanna dip?"

She grimaced, "Why you're a redneck, you don't need a muse, you already talk
to yourself." She left in a huff.

I shrugged and started a new story...



Chapter 1.

Yall ain't gonna believe this shit.

------------------------------------------------------

copyright 2003 cmsix

comments to cmsix@DONTSPAMMEcmsix.com would be appreciated

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