Message-ID: <44366asstr$1063933807@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
X-Original-Message-ID: <20030918205738.29947.qmail@web20509.mail.yahoo.com>
From: Lazlo Zalezac <lzalezac@yahoo.com>
X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Thu, 18 Sep 2003 13:57:37 -0700 (PDT)
Subject: {ASSM} John Carter I 02 {mf ff mmf ffm mm sci-fi)
Date: Thu, 18 Sep 2003 21:10:07 -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
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2003/44366>
X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Moderator-ID: hecate, newsman
__________________________________
Do you Yahoo!?
Yahoo! SiteBuilder - Free, easy-to-use web site design software
http://sitebuilder.yahoo.com
<1st attachment, "JC02.txt" begin>
DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. If you are offended by
sexually explicit material or are under the age of 18, stop reading
now. This material cannot be reproduced for commercial purposes
without the consent of the author.
John Carter
By
Lazlo Zalezac
Copyright (C) Lazlo Zalezak, 2003
Part 1: Shield, Staff, and Compass
Chapter 2
It was a greasy spoon such as commonly built in the 1950's in
small towns across America. There were six Formica tables; seats
covered in green nalgahide. Along one side of the room ran a
counter capable of seating ten people. Spaced along its length were
the standard round stools; the kind of stool that allowed a kid to sit
and spin. At every other stool were the napkin holder, saltshaker,
peppershaker, and the sugar container that allowed you to pour out
the sugar through a flap covered hole. At one end of the counter
was an old cash register that was purely mechanical in its
construction. Glass shelves, with a greenish hue when viewed on
edge, ran along the mirror-covered wall behind the counter.
Stacked in neat rows on the shelves were glasses, scratched from
long use. There were water glasses, sundae cups, and tall glasses
for milk shakes. The odor of grease hung heavy in the air.
He didn't notice anything except a small vanity mirror by the door.
The mirror didn't catch his attention, but his reflection did. The
face that stared back at him was not the face with which he was
familiar. A major portion of his beard had turned snow white;
everything except for a four-inch wide stripe under his mouth. That
had remained his natural color. Less noticeable was his receding
hairline. He had started losing hair when he was twenty-two. Now
his hairline had returned to where it had been when he was
eighteen. The hair on his head was thick and luxurious again.
His stomach tensed as he stared at himself in discomfort. He could
feel a headache developing as he questioned what he was seeing,
yet unable to deny what looked back at him in the mirror. He was a
scientist and recent events were not conforming to any reality that
he understood.
A female voice interrupted his self-examination and moment of
introspection. Not having heard what had been said, he replied,
"Pardon?"
"I said, are you going to stand there admiring yourself in the mirror
or come in and get something to eat?" the woman answered.
He turned and saw the woman sitting on a stool at the end of the
counter with a newspaper opened in front of her. She was in her
late thirties or early forties; but she was still a very nice looking
woman who bore her maturity with grace and retained an obvious
sensuality. She had the high cheekbones and the dark coloring that
immediately identified her as having American Indian ancestry.
Her jet-black hair was up in a bun; not the simple kind in which the
hair was simply twisted, but the old fashioned kind that suggested
very long hair. Smiling weakly to hid his discomfort, he replied,
"I've been hiking for a couple of weeks and didn't recognize
myself. Didn't remember being this ugly!"
The waitress didn't find him ugly at all. In fact, she found his
appearance intriguing. She laughed, "Well handsome, you want a
table or would you prefer the counter?"
"I'll take the counter if you don't mind joining me. I haven't had
much opportunity to talk to anyone but squirrels for a long time,"
he replied. The knot in his stomach slowly loosened.
"And you think that I'll be a better conversationalist than the
squirrels?"
Surprised at her answer, he grinned, "I don't know. They sure
know a lot about nuts. It was nice to talk about myself so much."
"Ugly and nuts, great!" she put the back of her hand to her
forehead in a gesture like a heroine in a movie faced with
imminent demise. His self-depreciating wit impressed her.
Experience with men in the past suggested that he was actually
very confident about himself and didn't feel a need to impress
anyone with brash exaggeration. He would be the type of man that
was goofy at times, considerate most of the time, attentive to
others, and probably very good in bed. She shot back, "What was
their advice?"
"That I should be buried under some leaves and dug up in winter
when they're hungry," he answered laughing heartily. His initial
discomfort at the door was behind him.
"Smart squirrels."
"Speaking of digging things up to eat, I'm starving," he said as he
threw his hands over his heart as though mortally wounded at her
rejoinder. His comment was punctuated by an embarrassingly loud
growl from his stomach.
The waitress decided she like the young man and gestured to the
chair next to her, "Sit here. The cook is out so all I can do for you
is make a roast beef sandwich and give you a bowl of soup. Is that
okay?"
"That's fine," he answered as he made his way to the chair at which
she had pointed. He swung the backpack off his shoulders and set
it down beside the chair. The waitress headed into the kitchen to
make the sandwich.
As he sat down, the heavy weight of the medallion swinging freely
under his shirt reminded him of the morning's events. He pulled it
out to examine it. In the center was an imprint of a valley that
looked a lot like the valley formed by a woman's legs. Above the
image were the words, 'TO CROSS,' while below it were the
words, 'A CHASM.' He read the words aloud, "To cross a chasm."
He turned the medallion over. The same picture was in the center.
Above the imprint were the words, 'A CHASM,' while below it
were the words, 'TO CROSS.' Again, he read the words aloud, "A
chasm to cross."
He looked up and stared into the distance as he replayed the earlier
events in his memory. He had crossed a chasm to reach the
medallion. Along the way, he had rescued a child; a rescue that
could have cost him his freedom for the rest of his life. He came up
with a hundred interpretations concerning the meaning of the
medallion and each was immediately shot down. He recalled the
pain and exhaustion as he climbed from the ravine and wondered if
that was to be his fate.
A hand resting itself upon his abruptly interrupted his thoughts. He
looked up to see the waitress looking into his eyes with great
concern. There was also a great tension present. In almost a
whisper, she asked, "When did you get that?"
"Today."
"Ah," she nodded, "That explains a lot."
He wrinkled his face in confusion, "What do you mean?"
A far-away and slightly haunted look entered her eyes as she
answered his question, "Like many women in my tribe, I started to
gain weight when I hit my mid-twenties. I had really gotten quite
fat. I lost forty pounds the day I got my medallion. I've never had
to worry about weight since then. I looked at myself the first time I
saw a mirror the same way you were looking at yourself."
"So how long was I standing there?"
"About ten minutes," she answered. Adding, "Eat. You're probably
very hungry."
"Did you get raped too?" he asked and then realized what he had
said. His stomach clenched again. He quickly recovered, "Sorry, I
shouldn't have asked that. It was very rude of me."
She looked at him in shock at the revelation implied in his
question. She could see the tension in him. It matched the tension
within her. This was something that she could not bring herself to
discuss with others; even with others that had been through
something similar. She worked to ease the building tension, "No, I
wasn't raped and I'm not upset that you asked, so relax. I imagine
by your question that you've been through a lot though."
"I guess so. I don't know what it all means." He shrugged wanting
to end the subject at that point. He realized that he didn't want to
talk about his experience and got the distinct impression that she
didn't want to talk about her experience either. Looking around he
noticed the soup and sandwich on the counter in front of him and
took a spoonful of the soup. It was minestrone. He sipped and then
murmured, "Hmmm, good."
Relieved at the change in direction of the conversation, she
laughed, "That's supposed to be - 'M'm! M'm! Good!' It's
Campbell's, straight out of the can."
"Just the kind of woman that I like - handy with a can-opener," he
replied. His hunger took over and he concentrated on eating. The
waitress watched him eat. She knew from personal experience that
he would never be able to talk about the events that had occurred
to him. He needed to work off some his energy and tension. When
he finally finished his sandwich, she proposed, "I'll tell you what.
If you'll wash the dishes the lunch is free, but I've got to warn you
that we've got a lot of dishes."
He had more than enough money for his entire trip, but appreciated
the offer. He was about to decline and then changed his mind. The
chance to work for a while would make him feel better. He smiled,
"Sure, I'll do it. By the way, my name's John Carter."
"Nice to meet you John Carter. I'm Lily Green," she replied.
"Lily Green. That's a pretty name," he commented pausing a
moment to see if she was going to respond. Seeing the slight shrug
of her shoulders, he added, "I guess I better get to work on those
dishes."
"Okay, let me show you around the joint," she replied. It only took
her a few minutes to show him around the restaurant; pointing out
the bins containing the dirty dishes and the sink. She watched as he
carried the bins into the kitchen noticing that he stepped into the
job like he had done it before.
She returned to her stool and newspaper while he worked in the
back. She spent some time considering the revelations that John
had let slip and tried to work out the feelings that he must be
experiencing. After a while she gave up recognizing that he would
let someone know if he chooses or he would drop the subject
forever. Regardless, it was highly unlikely that he would turn to
her for comfort or explanation. The only thing that suggested he
might turn to her was the fact that she had a medallion too. She
turned to the newspaper. It didn't take her long to finish reading the
small-town paper.
Having wasted too much time, she started straightening up the
restaurant for the evening rush (if the ten or so parties that would
come in could be considered a rush). It didn't take her long to refill
the salt, pepper, and sugar containers. She poured the ketchup of
half-empty bottles into other half-empty bottles. After that, she
refilled the napkin holders. Returning to the counter, she found that
the silverware racks had been refilled. She hadn't noticed when
John had brought them out. She started setting the tables when she
noticed that the silverware looked a lot cleaner than normal. She
shrugged it off and finished setting silverware out on all of the
tables and along the counter. It was about this time that she
realized he had been in the kitchen area for a lot longer than was
required to wash the dishes. She called out, "Hey, you okay in
there?"
John's voice came drifting out from the kitchen, "Yeah, I'm almost
done in here. Give me about five more minutes."
Lily glanced at the clock and noted that the boss would be
returning anytime now. She wondered what had taken him so long.
There weren't that many dishes. She started to head back to the
kitchen when she heard her boss shout, "Jesus H. Christ!"
She ran into the kitchen in time to hear John reply, "No. I'm John.
John Carter."
The portly man stared at him in shock and then burst out laughing,
"I'm George. George Ericson. Are you the one that cleaned up this
kitchen?"
"Yeah, I guess I got a little carried away."
Lily looked around at the kitchen. It was spotless. The hoods over
the stove were shiny. The floor was clean. The shelves on which
the can goods were stacked had been washed. The dishwasher was
spotless. She gasped, "My God, how did you get all of that done so
quickly?"
John shrugged, "I guess I had a little energy to burn off. I fixed the
water heater. The wire to the upper heater was shorting out against
the second refrigerator. That one will work now too. The
dishwasher needed a little adjustment here and there. It's fine
now."
George stared open mouthed at John, "I had some guy out here last
week and he said it would cost me $500 to fix the electrical wiring
and that I would have to buy a new refrigerator."
"No, the wiring was just a simple short. I would say that the fridge
is working fine now. It should be cool enough for you to load it up
with the dairy products in a couple of hours. I'm sure the health
code stipulates that you can't store meat and dairy in the same
refrigerator."
George looked around for several seconds and then answered, "I
never thought I would see it this clean again. It looks like the day
after I took over the place from my dad. Wow."
Lily shook her head in amazement. John had performed a minor
miracle here. In an attempt to escape excessive thanks, John spoke
up, "Well, I better get going. I'll be back for dinner. I noticed the
pot roast in the oven; it looked very good."
George who was about to thank John for all of his hard work found
himself responding to the compliment, "It's an old family recipe."
"Well, it sure looks and smells good," replied John. He continued,
"It's been nice meeting you, Mr. Ericson. Lily, I hope I'll see you at
dinner time?"
"Ah, sure," she replied rather surprised at the sudden turn in the
conversation. She realized that he was really rather bashful about
being praised. She hesitated and then asked, "Where are you
going?"
"Um, I'm going to see about finding a campsite. I didn't notice a
hotel so I've got to select a camp site before it gets dark."
George and Lily were both rather startled by his revelation. George
was about to offer his place when he glanced in Lily's direction. He
could tell that she was daring herself to make the same offer. He
smiled knowingly and waited for Lily to realize what she really
wanted to do. Lily spoke up hesitantly, "I've got a spare bed. You
can stay with me."
John was about to decline what he initially thought was a polite,
but not seriously meant, offer when he realized that she really
wanted him to stay the night. He thought about it for a moment and
then nodded his head, "If it's not too much of an imposition that
would be very nice."
Lily looked down a little shyly and replied, "It won't be an
imposition at all."
George looked around and suggested, "Lily, why don't you take
him by your place and let him drop his stuff off. Even though it is a
long way from here, I know you can be back before the dinner rush
starts."
Lily heard the smile in his voice and knew the joke. She answered
in a totally serious voice, "I don't know. It is a long way from
here."
John, unaware of the undercurrent, earnestly interjected, "Hey, I
don't want to be a problem. I can wait until you close to take my
pack there."
George replied with a smile, "She won't get into trouble. I know
she can be back in plenty of time."
Lily grabbed John's hand and pulled him out of the kitchen as she
stated, "We had better hurry."
As she dragged him past the chair he had occupied earlier, he
leaned down and grabbed his backpack. She suddenly stopped and
turned around stating, "I forgot, it's faster if we go out the back
door!"
John followed her puzzled. He shrugged as he passed a smiling
George as they rushed through the kitchen. Lily swung open the
backdoor and stepped through. John followed her through the door
rather surprised at the energetic pace she was setting. He was
brought up short when she halted suddenly in front of a
Winnebago parked next to the door. As the door of the restaurant
slammed shut behind them, she turned to him with a very large
smile and said, "We're here!"
"You live in a Winnebago?" He stared at it in confusion. This was
the largest and best model they made. He wondered how a waitress
in such a small town could afford it. He also realized the joke that
had been playing between Lily and George.
"Only when I'm on vacation."
"You're on vacation?" he asked.
"Yes," she replied, "George's wife has been sick. I stopped in here
to eat and George was trying to do everything - cook, wait on
tables, and bus. I stayed and talked to him after the lunch rush and
found out about her condition. So, I volunteered to help for a
couple of days. She'll be back tomorrow."
"Wow, that's nice of you!"
"You would have done the same."
"Well, I would like to think so, but you never really know until the
situation presents itself," he replied. John hoped that he would do
the right things, but life had taught him many times that he didn't
always recognize the opportunities to do the things that would
make life better for those around him. There was the time when he
had been visiting a friend at a hospital and met a little girl about to
have an appendectomy. It wasn't until the staff had wheeled the
girl away that he realized he had a toy in the pocket of his coat. He
kicked himself once he realized that he could have given it to her
as a way to take her mind off her pain and unpleasant
circumstances. He realized that he could help George tonight.
Lily looked at him funny for a moment as though she could see the
self-recriminations passing through him and then asked, "By the
way, what are you thinking about?"
"I was just thinking that I might be able to run the kitchen and give
George a night off," he answered. He then thought that it might be
nice to spend a little more time with Lily.
Lily laughed, "Now I wonder why I knew that was what you were
thinking? I bet you figured you had nothing better to do tonight
and that it might be kind of fun. Then the clincher was that you
would get to spend the slow times in the evening with me."
John actually blushed. Lily noticed and added, "Gosh, you are so
cute!"
The evening passed with a lot of lighthearted banter and harmless
flirting. On more than one occasion, Lily had to explain to local
customers, who knew George, that she wasn't flirting with him but
with a young stud that was filling in for George. When one of the
town gossips acted as if she didn't believe Lily, Lily reacted
directly, "Hey, Studly Doright! Come out here for a minute."
A slightly embarrassed John had peeked around the corner and
answered, "Studly just left. I guess you have to settle for his
cousin, Willy Do-OK."
The laughter that followed assured that George would not be the
next subject of gossip. Instead, she and John would probably be the
subjects of wild speculations for the next couple of days.
It didn't seem like any time passed before they were closing the
restaurant at nine that night. Lily was amazed at how easily John
worked in the kitchen. He had cooked like it was second nature
and she had received many compliments on how good the food
was that night. It was hardly ten minutes after she had locked the
door that he had the kitchen in excellent condition. Dishes, pots,
and pans were washed and put away. The floor was mopped and
the trash taken out to the dumpster. He had to have begun long
before closing time.
While she spent her time closing up the cash register, John sat at
the counter with his journal. He glanced at his watch and was
dismayed that it was still generating random numbers. He glanced
over at the newspaper that Lily had been reading and was shocked
to see that the date on the paper was June 24. He woke up this
morning, it was the twenty-first, and now it was the twenty-fourth.
A sick feeling settled in his stomach, but he pushed it aside.
Rather than deal with his feelings, he wrote his journal entry
recording the events of the day as he had experienced them. That
simple act of continuing his daily routine seemed to return a
certain feeling of normalcy to his life.
Finished, he watched Lily as she wrote out the deposit slips and
finished the books. He studied her features carefully noting the
look of extreme concentration as she counted money, receipts, and
the cash register report. He found her extremely attractive. The
outfit she wore did little to show off her body, but it was clear that
she was well proportioned. Her breasts definitely filled her shirt,
but not so much that she pulled the material into gaps between the
buttons. He now estimated her age to be mid-forties. He was
twenty-six and that made her old enough to be his mother.
Upon stepping into the Winnebago an uneasy silence descended
upon them both. The easy banter that had existed between them
had evaporated. Minutes passed and the silence drug on. Finally,
John asked, "Where do you want me to sleep?"
Lily was silent for a moment and then nervously answered, "Why
don't you take a shower while I fix up a bed?"
"Okay," he replied, "Uh, where's the shower?"
Lily opened a small door, reached in to turn on the light, and
pointed into the smallest space that John had ever seen called a
room. She saw the look on his face and laughed, "You will want to
get undressed out here. You'll have to sit on the toilet seat to wash.
Don't worry, I won't watch."
Lily smiled and left after handing him a towel. After she had
walked to the front of the camper, John looked around nervously.
Although he was normally very much at ease with women, it was
very seldom that he was intimate with them. He was the nice guy
they always thought of as just like a brother. If they didn't think of
him like a brother, then the chance of any kind of relationship was
killed once the woman learned he was physics major. Sure, he had
slept with a few women but it was never frequent or long lasting.
He glanced towards the other end of the Winnebago and saw that
Lily was seated facing away from him. He took a deep breath and
then started to get out of his clothes. As he undressed, his cock
started to get erect at the thought of being naked in front of a
woman. He rushed to get undressed so that he could get into the
shower before it got fully erect. Lily watched him undress in a
reflection off a little mirror, quite impressed by his well-toned
body and slightly amused at the panicked look on his face as his
member swelled. The sight convinced her that there was only need
for one bed tonight.
She laughed aloud as she heard a thump and a muffled yell as
some part of his body made contact with a wall in the shower.
When the door had closed, she stepped to the back of the camper
and retrieved an extra pillow from an overhead cabinet. She set it
on the bed next to her pillow.
Inside the shower, John had a minor shock when he looked down
at his erection. It was now an inch longer and a lot thicker than
before. He was in a quandary as to what to do about it and decided
that masturbating in her shower wasn't quite right. He chose the
cold shower routine. The frigid water hitting his body quickly stole
his breath away and slowly shrank his erection.
He turned off the water and soaped up. Once he had covered his
whole body he turned the water on again and rinsed off. Before
turning off the water he whispered to his cock, "Cock, you had
better behave yourself! I don't want to sleep outside tonight!"
After wrapping the towel around his waist, he opened the door and
stepped out only to find Lily standing naked in front of him. His
mouth dropped open as his towel immediately started to tent. Lily
giggled and bending towards the tent in the towel whispered, "You
had better behave yourself. He doesn't want to sleep outside
tonight!"
He stood with an open mouth staring at her body. It was glorious.
Her breasts were nicely shaped, full and soft looking. Gravity had
been very kind to her. Between her breasts hung a medallion that
looked very similar to his. Her legs were shapely. Her bush was
neatly trimmed. He wanted to step to her and gather her in his
arms. His cock twitched in time with his heart.
She stepped around him into the shower taking his towel as she
passed. She called over her shoulder, "I hope I have some hot
water left!"
"Don't worry, I took a cold shower!" a furiously blushing John
replied. Looking down at his fully erect cock, he muttered to
himself, "A lot of good that it did!"
"You just made an old lady very happy."
"Oh, God! There's an old lady in here too?" he asked as he looked
wildly around.
As the door to the shower closed, he heard her reply, "You are so
cute."
It dawned on him what she had meant - she was the old lady. He
stood there for a minute trying to decide what to do. After a
minute, he still hadn't come to any conclusions so he stood there
for several more minutes. Finally, he decided to find his bed and
lie down in it. However, several minutes of searching led him to
the conclusion that there was only one bed. His erection, which
had been flagging, quickly perked up as he realized what that
meant. He moved away from the bed to where he had set his
clothes. Folding them nicely, he set them upon the backpack.
He was about to reach inside for another pair of underwear when
he felt a hand on his shoulder. Startled he swiveled around only to
find himself staring at her immaculately trimmed bush and the
clearly excited cunt below it. Lily watched him as his eyes drank in
the sight of her most private area. He whispered, "Only the Gods
and Goddesses can make a thing of such beauty."
The words sent a tingle through her entire body. He stood and
kissed her gently on the lips, his tongue brushing against her lips in
a light, teasing manner. Her mouth parted, but he continued to
explore her lips with soft kisses and gentle flicks of his tongue. Her
breathing began to get heavy, her nipples stiffed, and her juices
began to flow. When he began to slowly probe inside her mouth,
she responded with her tongue. An erotic dance of give and take,
explore and retreat, began. Gone was the shy awkward young man;
having been replaced by a skilled lover.
Lily never noticed how he had slowly moved her to the bed until
he lay her down upon it. He moved over her, kissing a path from
her mouth to under her ear. His medallion swung down in contact
with hers producing an electric and erotic shock through both of
their bodies. Time stood still.
He kissed his way down her neck to her breasts; breasts that were
slightly flattened by gravity. In the dim light, her dark aureoles
topped by hardened nipples demanded his attention. He slowly
worked his tongue around her breast working his way towards the
nipple. Before he reached the nipple, he stopped and began the
journey again. She finally grabbed his head and directed him to her
nipple; letting out a sigh as she did so. As he kissed her, his hands
swept across her body slowly tracing a path from behind the knee,
to her buttocks, and ending at the just under her arm. Her body
sung with pre-orgasmic tension; knowing that he was going to
keep building that tension until it either became too much to
handle or an amazing orgasm would wash over her.
It was much later when an amazing orgasm that was too much to
handle washed over her. Both of them fell asleep, still connected.
<1st attachment end>
----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
Notice: This post has been modified from its original
format. The post was sent as an email attachment and
has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software.
----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+