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From: the_panda@hotmail.com (Paris Waterman)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: Thu, 13 Nov 2003 20:54:35 +0000 (UTC)
Subject: {ASSM} The Reunion of Paul and Ellen - MF - Repost - Paris Waterman
Date: Thu, 13 Nov 2003 19:10:03 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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The wonderful Celeste wrote of this story:
"The Reunion of Paul and Ellen" by Paris Waterman
(the_panda@hotmail.com).
Although they truly love each other, Paul and Ellen have been
struggling in their marriage. In this story they engage in a marathon
sex session to get their act back together. If more people sat down --
er, laid down or bent over -- and engaged in this sort of therapy,
we'd have a lot fewer broken marriages in the world. My favorite pun
in the whole story -- which I think is accidental -- is Ellen's
question: "Are you sure nobody's going to come back here tonight?" Her
concern is that somebody might find them copulating in the abandoned
back room. However, when she asks the question, Paul is getting ready
to ream out her asshole. Later, when Ellen gets "a fucking cramp," I
think that pun is intentional.
Ratings for "The Reunion of Paul and Ellen"
Athena (technical quality): 10
Venus (plot & character): 9
Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 9

I've always liked this one and so I'll send it out to you for the
forthcoming holiday.
Paris


The Reunion of Paul and Ellen

By Paris Waterman

Copyright 2000 - 2003

The Tender Spot had been closed forty minutes. Everyone else had left.
The lights were out, but thin, weak rays of light eked through the
front windows blinds from the streetlight outside.

Paul glanced at the piano, fingered a few notes, before joining his
hands together on his lap. Thinking.

"Who said anything about that?'

"I did," Ellen said quietly as if someone else in the room could
overhear their conversation.

"I'm talking about me," he said, revealing his nervousness to her.

"You never talk about you. That's the problem."

"Our problem?

Things are far from perfect," she advised him.

"Shit happens," he said. He was getting angry again and he didn't
understand why. One of the problems they were trying to resolve to
save a marriage after five months of separation.

"I wish you were happy. You're not. Not with me. Not with yourself. I
want you to understand that. I want to help you." It wasn't a
rehearsed speech on her part and she was both surprised and elated
that she'd come out with it.

"You want me to quit drinking? Is that it?" His voice was racing
toward that belligerent tone she knew all to well.

"Do you need an excuse? I'll give you one if you want," she shot back
at him. Sometimes she knew him better than he knew himself. Paul
shifted on the piano bench.

"Maybe I can balance the two."

"What two?"

"Work and family. Drinking and . . ."

"Be honest with us." She forced a smile.

"Okay, I love you," he said, "Honest, I do."

"Prove it," she replied. Hoping desperately that he meant what he'd
just said.

He stood, crossed the room and offered his arms. She folded into him
naturally and wrapped around him like a vine. A tear drifted down her
cheek.

"Need more proof," she said in a muffled voice as she trembled against
him.

He hugged her tighter. Ellen let out a long mournful moan as he cupped
a buttock and squeezed. Then she purred. Her hair caught in his
unshaved face. It tickled.

"I'll try to be there for you," she whispered into his ear.

"Me too," Paul said, his voice breaking, "Me too."

His hand was tracing the crevice between her ass.

His erection was jabbing her belly. "It's hard," she said, for want of
something to say, she was quite content at the moment.

"That's because it hasn't felt this close to you in a while."

That made her laugh, which was good.

"We need more laughter in our lives."

"We need a lot of things," she said softly into his shoulder and
giggled self-consciously. She had never come with him for some unknown
reason and fervently hoped that maybe this time . . .

It felt fresh, wonderfully fresh, as if he had never touched her
before. His hand cupped her mons and she felt herself growing wet.
Each movement of his, each probe, carried tingling electricity with
it.

She pulled out his shirttail and his erection pressed into her groin. 

Ellen's hands felt hot on his skin. Then she was fully off the floor,
hanging off him, her lips smeared his face and neck with lipstick, as
he lurched along with her, looking for the right place to set her down
and fuck.

Her smell invaded him. He groped for the door, stumbling with her
along as baggage. She unfastened his belt  how he wasn't sure
 and went for the button to his pants. He kicked out the
door's stopper. She threw the bolt, as if they had practiced it. She
refused to be let down, clinging to him like a child.

Giggling playfully, she held him closer to her as his pants fell down
around his knees and he staggered, almost falling over.

"No," she protested, as he tried to lower her onto a bar stool.

"No," again when he aimed for a table. As he limped around waiting for
approval, she lifted her skirt into a ruffle and tugged on her
underwear, but with her legs clasped around him in a straddle, they
weren't going anywhere.

"Damn," she gasped urgently, charging him with excitement. The room
seemed darker and strangely hot. He felt like a klutz, scanning the
room for somewhere to satisfy her. She felt anxious, alive, nervous,
wanton and very hungry --- for him.

She hung off him  head lowered back, her lacy chest exposed
from an unbuttoned blouse. She pointed like a lookout on the bow of a
ship. He leaned his head down, took her bra in his teeth and tugged
until he freed a breast, which he quickly sought and covered with his
mouth and tongue. Ellen trembled and moaned with an eager craving for
him. He found her cunt, and she gasped as much from surprise as
pleasure. He felt her heat pressed against him, and it drove him to an
impatient frenzy. He almost dropped her  she was leaning so
far off him. But her legs gripped him like a vise. He found her other
breast and went after it with his tongue.

She couldn't help but cry out, "God yes!" And her legs gripped him
even tighter as she worked herself against him in an unmistakable
motion.

"Oh, God!" she said in a way that called for him to do something,
anything, but he couldn't put her down.

"Down!" She commanded.

He lowered her onto the piano bench, her head dangling off the far
end, her skirt gathered at the waist. He jumped  fell 
out of his khakis. Ellen struggled free of her last barrier with an
ambitious bend of the knee. The aroma wafting out from her steaming
cunt overwhelmed him and he lost any sense of their surroundings, it
was just them.

He maneuvered his stiff cock from the boxers confining it; and they
were joined --- driving toward fulfillment. They were wild animals,
rutting as Ellen lifted her legs and encircled his shoulders, then his
neck while his cock delved deep into her womb like molten railroad
spike.

Ellen coached him on with sharp cries of approval and overactive hips.
Her elbow smacked the keys and sounded a dissonant chord. Paul's eyes
were closed, but he saw a wall of red. All he sensed was the tightness
of her vaginal walls seizing him, milking him, fucking him.
 
All she felt was his magnificent cock hitting her spot time after
time. She knew she was very close as he pounded that wonderful bone
into her and grew more exhilarated with every stroke.

Paul opened his eyes and still saw nothing but red. It took a moment
for him to realize it was the red light from the EXIT sign. Shaking
his head, he focused on Ellen; saw her hair stretched down like
spilled water toward the floor. He could see darkness down her throat
as she laughed  a nasty, pleasure-ridden, guttural laugh. He
had been a long time waiting to hear that laugh.

He warned her, and she liked that.

"Wait . . . wait . . ." she pleaded.

I can't," he groaned, and began to spurt his seed.

What started as another one of her laughs gave way to a shriek and
ended with a sharp sounding of satisfaction, loud and honest 
as honest as anything she'd ever said to him.  Honest in a way he
lived to hear.

Then she was stuttering. "C . . . Coming! C . . . Christ, I'm gonna .
. .!"

"Come on Ellen! Come on, Lover!" He urged, exhorting her to join him
in paradise.

She came; a series of grunts surged from her vocal chords and to her
amazement she found she couldn't stop coming. Clinging tightly to his
frame, she bucked shook and snorted as she gulped for the oxygen
necessary to maintain her fucking activity, fearing she might perish
before finishing.
 
Ever so slowly, the orgasm subsided. Still, Paul's mouth was agape as
he watched her, frozen in position on her back, trembling in the midst
of the aftershock, her rumpled bra mashed up over her pert breasts,
her curled fingers clenching her nipples as she gasped for breath.

"Leave it in lover, ahhhhhhh! Don't ever take it out." She moaned as
her ass squirmed on the piano bench.

"Ohhh," she giggled, "did I ever tell you you're the most delicious
fuck I've ever had?" And pulled his head down and covered his face
with wet, mushy kisses.

A few minutes later, Paul ran one hand over her still quivering ass
and whispered hoarsely, "You really liked that, didn't you?"

Ellen said nothing, but only nodded her head. Paul got up and left her
lying on the bench. He took several cushions from some chairs and
returned to her side.

"Lift up," he said softly. Ellen slowly complied and he put the
cushions under her hips and gently spread her legs apart, then knelt
between them.

"Paul?" She asked rubbing her eyes with one hand, pulling on her
stiffened nipple with the other.

"What, love?"

"Does this mean we're not finished? I mean, he's so small now. Look at
him drooping . . ."

"That's exactly what it means," he said rubbing her ass gently.

"Oh?"

"Yeah I know, the booze always affected my performance. At least it
seems that way now. Would it surprise you to know I haven't had a
drink in three months?"

"You're kidding," Ellen said in a surprised tone then moaned softly as
his hand probed between her legs to find and tease her clit.

"That's . . . nice," she cooed, as his roving fingers spread her lips
apart. Ellen's tongue darted out and dragged across his mouth, licking
and sucking on his lower lip.

"That's  . . . great . . . I mean the not drinking." Her finger
caressed his cheek. "But the other thing is wonderful too."

"We hardly ever took our time. Always wham, bam, I'm finished Mam." He
gazed down at her. "I'm changing that now."

"Mmmmmmm," Ellen sighed, "I like change."

"Good, 'cause here's something we've never done before." He gave her
ass one last caress then placed her calves on his shoulders, spread
her cheeks apart and leaning close to her ass slowly licked the crack
in front of him.

"My God Paul! What?"

"Shut up, or talk dirty," he snarled, surprised at his actions, but
committed nevertheless and worked his way up and down her anal crack
before zeroing in on her asshole.

"Shit, yeah!" she yelped, "Lick my ass! Lick my pussy," she groaned,
reaching for his cock which was no longer flaccid.

"Mmmmmm, gonna fuck me in the ass with this Lover?" She giggled as she
squeezed him.

"Haven't decided yet" he said and tickled her asshole with his tongue.

"Eeek!" she screeched, "That tickles!"

Turning his fade to the side he said hoarsely, "I'm glad you're a
cleanliness freak," then spit a small hair from his mouth and worked
two fingers in and out of Ellen's cunt.

"I'm gonna come soon," she whined then shuddered as an orgasm began to
overwhelm her.

Paul's hand was soaked with his sperm and her juices, but he continued
to finger her, and as she relaxed her sphincter, his tongue sank into
her asshole. He fully intended to fuck Ellen up the ass for the first
time in their five year relationship, whether she wanted to or not.

"Ahhhh! That's good!" She cried out. "Are you? Do you?"

"Up your ass? Oh, yes Ellen. All the way up your ass. And you're going
to love every inch of it."

"Yes, yes, yes I will." She turned her head to look at him. "You . . .
You're gonna use something . . .?"

"Huh? I hadn't thought . . . just a second."

Paul's cock felt as if it was going to explode as he leaned down and
grabbed Ellen's purse, turning it upside down and spilling the
contents. He rummaged among the rubble and found her hand lotion.

"This should work," he said in a gruff tone as he uncapped the top and
spilled a large glob into his hand then carefully coated his cock with
most of it, using the remainder on her ass, then adding another glob,
he pushed it up her ass with his finger.

"It feels funny with your fingers in me and whatever it is up my
behind."

"It's your ass, and it's my cunt soaked finger you feel up there," he
said quietly, wiping his hand on his shirt.

"Are you gonna fuck me there now?" She asked only somewhat
apprehensive about the idea. "Are you sure nobody's gonna come back
here tonight?"

"Oh yeah, somebody's gonna come back here all right," he laughed
brusquely.

"God damn it, this is no time for joking around!"

"Gonna loosen you up first," he gasped, ignoring her complaint and
thrust a second finger in.

"Ouchy! Ouch! That hurts."

"Want me to stop?" Paul said, coming to a halt.

"Umm, no, but be careful. The truth is I've dreamt about you sticking
it in there several times the last couple months."

"Nice dreams. I've had some of those too. I'll be careful love. Tell
me when the hurt goes away."

Ellen's ass was tight, but his finger kept easing in and her protests
ended. He tried finger fucking her tight anal channel and Ellen
squealed with pleasure. "It's starting to feel good," she cried. Ellen
felt she was being loved in the most unselfish and intimate way
possible, and her love for Paul was renewed ten-fold.

Paul reached under the piano bench and spun the lever raising the
bench several inches. Stepping between her legs again he reinserted
his finger, marveling at the ease with which her puckered hole drew
his finger in.

Ellen watched over her shoulder in awe as he placed his cock at her
hole and rubbed against her rear entrance. Then she sucked in her
breath as he pushed firmly and gained about an inch. Her voice was
incoherent, but her meaning was clear. He stopped, bent forward and
began playing with Ellen's breasts. After a minute or so, he realized
Ellen was wriggling below him, slowly impaling herself on his cock.
Taking a firm grip on her hips, he slowly moved his member out and in
short, slow movements, each one taking him deeper. Finally he realized
he was in all the way and stopped.

"Oh, my God!" Ellen murmured wantonly, "You're in. You're all the
fucking way in!

"Pleased to make your acquaintance my dear," he laughed, "Never met
this side of the family before."

Ellen giggled delighted that he was in and there had been so little
pain.

"Fuck me. Fuck me please. I can feel you both in my ass and in my
pussy. It's unbelievable."

Paul glanced down and saw her cunt flinch as she squirmed under him.

"Feels good, does it?"

"Oh, my yeah. Good, good, good. Sweetie, go nice and easy now, nice
and easy.

"Like this? He thrust in and out three times as he gyrated his hips to
hit different areas of her anal channel.

"Yeah, come on baby, gimme me a nice fuck; a nice butt fuck, honey,"
she crooned to him.

"Yeah, baby, oh, yeah!" He groaned from the intense pleasure of it
all. Ellen responded too, moving her hips in a slow, circular pattern,
while Paul's cock, a virtual prisoner, struggled to pump in and out of
her vise tight grip.

Ellen discovered an animalistic instinct she never knew she had, and
with the discovery, she developed a far different attitude toward
making love.

"OH! Fuck my ass! Give it to me! Oh, my ass! I love it in my ass! Oh,
Paul, it feels so good!"

Foolishly, he asked, "Do you really like it?"

"Just shove it in me!" She snarled. "Make it hurt! Fuck my ass, you
bastard!" She was immediately sorry she'd ranted at him, but how could
he not know now that she loved this kind of fucking.

Stunned by her reply, Paul went into a frenzy -- pumping her like a
madman, driving his cock in and out of her ass with complete abandon.
She grunted, she groaned, she bucked her ass against his stomach,
snorting rather than breathing, trying to pull him further into the
dark abyss of her ass.

"So you like it rough, huh, how's this for fun and games?" and he
pinched her nipple with thumb and forefinger.

"Ahhhhhh . . .  yeah!" She screamed, almost overcome by the intensity
of her pleasure.

"More?" he asked, ready to brutalize her.

"I'm coming!" she cried. "I'm coming! Oh, Christ, Jesus in heaven, I'm
coming!"

Ellen shuddered in ecstasy under him then screamed in pain as a cramp
bit harshly into her hamstring.

"What? What is it?" He said, alarmed.

"Cramp! Cramp! A fucking cramp, pull out, I gotta get up!"

"Oh, shit," he exclaimed, withdrawing from her and helping her to
stand. Then he knelt down and massaged her thigh until she told him it
had subsided.

"I'm sorry," she said contritely. "Are you ready to go again?"

"Yeah, let's try a different position though." Even in the dim
lighting Paul could see Ellen's anal ring was red and swollen, gaping
open like an unhappy mouth and their commingled fluids seeped slowly
out only to cling steadfastly to her puckered rim.

"Here, let me sit on the bench and you straddle me. That's it, work it
back up your ass."
 
As Ellen complied, easing her ass back onto his cock, Paul reached
around her and strummed her nipples.

"Like before," she said, panting like a bitch in heat; twisting her
body like a corkscrew on his pulsating prick. "Pinch them hard, don't
worry, I like it."

"Ahhh . . .my God, that's it! Yes, oh yes!"

Ellen began pounding herself up and down on Paul. With one hand he
reached the top of her mons and searched out her clit. As he teased it
while squeezing her nipple, Ellen came instantly. Paul followed
immediately.

Shortly, Ellen stopped churning on his now shriveled cock and lay back
in his arms as his cock slipped from her dilated ass. He held her
tight as they tried to catch their breath.

"That was the best ever," she whispered into the hollow of his neck
and for a long time after her head hung limp. Her chest rose and fell
toward recovery. With an effort she managed to look up, holding on to
him so he wouldn't move, wouldn't leave her. Her face was a glorious
red, her eye makeup hopelessly smeared, visible even in the darkness.
But her eyes filled with wonder, hope and promise.

She took him by the hair and pulled him to her and whispered in a
husky voice, "You're coming home with me tonight, right?"

"If you want me too," there was a new hope in his tone.

"Oh, and there is one condition about this new start."

"Umm, what's that?"

"We've gotta get us a piano."


Did you like the story? Well, tell me about it. 

the_panda@hotmail.com

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