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From: "JD Socab" <d.bacos@comcast.net>
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X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Wed, 26 Nov 2003 12:40:36 -0500
Subject: {ASSM} [BFSFS] Requital, by JD Socab
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Date: Wed, 26 Nov 2003 16:10:08 -0500
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<1st attachment, "flash1.doc" begin>
Requital, by JD Socab
In the blue vestibule, still waiting -- where are you, Missy?
The concierge returns to the door and taps with his ring finger,
waves 2 flat hands over each other no go. Back at the
apartment, something is strange. Mailbox empty, and walking up
the narrow stairs there is a draft, strange at this hour.
Missy's scent. Hands over my eyes, they smell like sweet
grapefruit or bubblegum. They switch for a blindfold, my wrists
are drawn back and cuffed, a rubber mass pushes my lips open.
Then a voice, not Missy's, but familiar a deep raspy smoker's
voice "You asked for it, didn't you." My brow and pits bead
up, though the draft is still there. Hands unbuckle my belt and
tug my slacks, 3 or 4 tugs, to my ankles callous, clumsy tugs,
and i can smell a burning cigarette. My jaw begins to echo the
ache in my groin, somehow working together, the two persistent,
dull pressures. The voice is a whisper now, not raspy, smelling
of wine: "We'll need a hard-on, now sweets. Can you do that?"
I can see Missy, that mouth it floats on her face, puckers,
lets the tongue peep out drinking, brooding. If she smoked, i
believe she would cup the filter with that tongue. A hand pushes
my balls up into the gut, I fall backwards. "Do you remember
me?" comes that voice from somewhere.
<1st attachment end>
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