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From: David Lawrence <dhl@elektra.sysun.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} "The Rules of the Game" by David Lawrence (revised version) (MF...rom?)
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Date: Sat, 17 Jan 2004 23:10:03 -0500
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                            The Rules of the Game

                              by David Lawrence


                                 ----------


     Standard stuff:  This story is (C) Copyright 2004 by David Lawrence.
Permission is granted to make copies for personal use, and to post it on any
Internet site for which no fees are charged, so long as no alterations are
made and the author's name and email address are included.  All commercial
use is prohibited, unless by written permission of the author.
     Important:  The following contains adult themes and explicitly
described sexual activity.  If you don't like either, or you are too young
to be legally reading such material in your area, please don't read this
story.
     Not Important: This story contains more than your average amount of 
verbal foreplay before the sex gets started.  If you're in a hurry, try
another one, and come back to this one when you're in a mood to appreciate
more than just action.

                                 ----------

     This story was first published in 1999.  This is a revised version.  

                                 ----------


     


     We sat on opposite sides of the couch.  The old yellow one, facing the
TV in my apartment. "Seinfeld" was on, and we laughed and giggled in
intermittent bursts.  Mine was all laugh, Ria's was mixed.  She did have a
cute little giggle, when she let it out, which was often.
     During the next commercial, she offered me the popcorn.  
     "Want some?"
     "No, thanks," I replied, so she took it back and cradled the green
plastic bowl in her lap.  I watched her watch the flickering screen.  Small
but not fragile, she almost had a wiry look.  Blonde hair cut short, almost
like a man: I could see why an acquaintance of mine had said she looked
like a dyke, although I'd wanted to pop him for it.  A green tank top and a
short pair of cutoffs were all she wore.  She had a nervous habit of flexing
her toes when she was concentrating, which she wasn't doing now, just
absorbing the idiocy about cleaner, whiter teeth croaking from the speaker. 
The light danced in her grey-green eyes.
     "What are you looking at?" she asked, turning to me suddenly, but with a
smile.
     "You."
     "I figured.  But, what are you seeing?" she asked, archly.
     "A good, good friend I feel like I've known all my life," I replied.
     She smiled even more.  "Yeah, that sounds smooth.  You're so good with
those smooth words, you liar.  But I know what's behind those eyes.  I know
that look.  You shouldn't use that look anymore, since we decided to swear
off the sex thing."
     "What look?  I'm just glancing in your direction."
     "Yeeeeaaaaaaah," she said in that way she had of drawing out words. 
But the smile on her face told me she wasn't offended as she turned back to
the TV.  The episode started again, so we once again turned our attention to
the actors, playing real people on the screen.
     "Now, remind me again why we swore off the sex thing," I asked, during
the next unbelievably stupid commercial.
     She was surprisingly quick with the answer. "We decided recreational
sex was bad for our friendship.  We wanted to stay friends forever.  Love
burns out, friends can stay forever." This was spoken in that earnest tone
you often use when you're absolutely sure that you aren't sure at all.
     "Hmmmm.  Did you think we were falling in love?" I asked.  A hell of a
bold question for me, but the mood was light so I took the plunge.  We were
both feeling in a comfortable frame of mind, as we almost always were with
each other.
     "Well, it could have happened.  I just thought it'd be better if we
didn't play with fire.  You remember, you agreed." she replied, again
earnestly. We were so young.  I was twenty-two, she was twenty-one.  Like
most young people that age, we thought we were very wise.  We were: just
wise enough to outsmart ourselves, and each other.  Two lost explorers
groping their way through a world where the rules were enforced but never
explained.
     "Yep, I did," I confirmed
     "And we were right," she said, seemingly with conviction.


     After the show was over, the TV went off.  Neither of us were big
viewers of the idiot box, but we did have a few shows we loved to watch
together.  All comedies.  We both loved to laugh.  "If we couldn't laugh we
would all go insane" was one of her favorite lyrics, parrothead emeritus
that she was.
     Sitting on the couch, in the quiet, dinner cooked and eaten (stir-fry,
beef and broccoli), we talked over the books we were reading.  From there,
the conversation wandered onto mutual friends, their ups and downs, loves
and losses.  Both of us currently had no loves, but we had racked up a
string of losses that seemed calamitous to our inexperienced hearts. 
Through all the pain, somehow we'd been there for one another.  Some days,
my shoulder was soaked, and some days, hers.  But it always ended with a
laugh.
     Talking to her was so easy and pleasurable, like a drift down
the river on a pleasant summer day.  Hours could pass and seem like minutes. 
There was no effort, only a flow of words in the total trust and comfort
that close friends feel together.
     Sometime during the conversation, I'd decided I was more comfortable
with my legs up on the couch.  Shortly thereafter, she'd decided the same
thing.  There wasn't a great deal of room, and so there was some shifting
and intertwining, as we talked.  Neither backed off.  Her feet came to rest
on mine at one point.  As we gabbed, I became aware of her toes caressing my
foot.  I knew her habits, so it was hard to tell if it was deliberate or
not.
     There was, as I remember, a strange dichotomy about that phase of the
night.  As we talked on one channel above, on another below our bodies began
a second, subtle, but very meaningful dialogue that I, at least, was not
aware of until later.
     It may have been midnight, or near about, before at a certain break in
our communion, I caught her looking at me like I had looked at her during
Seinfeld.  Her face seemed suffused with affection for me.  I guess I beamed
back.
     "You know," she said, "I really do love you."
     "I love you too" was all I could reply.  It was what I felt.
     "Not romantic, giddy-falling-over love," she clarified, "but just
warm-fuzzy-all-over love.  Do you understand?"
     "Sure," I replied.  That was what I felt, too.
     Then, silence.  Our feet were touching again.  She spread her toes wide
and interlaced them with mine.  This time, it was very deliberate.  It was a
sensual moment, and it lit a spark to the slumbering fire inside me, which
began to awaken.  I responded, playing with her with my feet.  That she
didn't giggle (well, not much) was significant.
     "Tom, sweetie, what do you think about re-considering our deal?" she asked,
after a little time had passed in silent foot-play.
     "Which deal is that?" I asked.
     "Where we swore off sex," she replied, fetchingly (seductively would be
to strong a word for her tone).
     "Oh, that one.  The one we had to re-vow after we broke down last time. 
Yes, I remember," I replied.  We both kept on staring at our toes, doing
battle between us.
     "Yeah, well, right, but we did re-vow, I remember too.  It was only about
two weeks ago, silly.  And that worked.  Why not again?"
     Of course, to the average person, this doesn't make much sense.  But to
us at the time, it seemed to be perfectly rational.  We could break the vow
as many times as happened, so long as we took the oath again later and
repented (although we did seem to breeze through the repentance phase
without much attention to it).
     My body was giving me it's advice on the matter, and it was very clear
what it wanted.  There was no corresponding resistance anywhere to be found
(I suppose Newton's Third Law doesn't apply to human emotions).  I yielded
easily.
     "I agree completely," I replied, giving her a wink and a nod that      
confirmed my words.
     "Oh, that was too easy," she mock-pouted.  "At least, you could have
put up a show of resistance."
     "I thought about it," I answered, "But I was afraid you'd take me
seriously."
     "Not likely." 
     "Well, then, would it make you feel better if I told you that there are
some practical obstacles this time?"
     "Such as?" she queried, skeptical.
     "Like, this time, I don't have a supply of prophylactics."
     "Oh!  That's an easy one too. That can be cured.  They do sell them at
the drugstore," she reasoned cheerfully.
     "But," I pointed out, "it's near midnight.  Think anything will be
open?"
     "Something has to be.  C'mon, let's go!"  She swung her legs off the
couch and into her sandals.



     Shortly, we were cruising through the warm summer night air, heading
for the nearest shopping center.  Of course, all the stores there were
closed.  We hadn't thought to look in the yellow pages for an all-night
drugstore.
     "Now what?" I asked.
     "Seven-eleven.  Restroom.  Machine."  she answered.  It was an obvious
solution, so I headed out towards I-95, where the nearest sure bet was
located, just off the on-ramp.
     "Do you mind if I ask you," she mentioned, as if in passing, "just what
happened to the box we bought last time?"
     "I loaned them to Larry," I replied.
     "Loaned?" she grinned wickedly.  "It's really going to be cute when he
gives them back."
     "He's probably just going to buy replacements," I deadpanned.
     "Oh.  You take all the fun out of it," she replied, with a gesture
involving her outthrust tongue.   Then a moment of thoughtful silence.
     "Did you really give them away?" she asked.
     "Yes, I did sweetie.  If I'd used them, you'd have gotten the full
details."
     "Well, that's reassuring.  I think."


     Our arrival at the convenience store was uneventful.  It was deserted,
except for the clerk inside, who looked like a retired mercenary from the
war in Afghanistan, undoubtedly with his double-barrel right under the
counter.
     "Okay, go get some, brave knight." she encouraged.
     "How come me?" I replied, "It was your idea."
     "I don't think they have any in the women's room."
     "Then how the hell did you know that there are some in the men's room?"
     "Okay, okay, I guess they do have them in the women's.  But I still
want you to get them.  Please?"
     "What if there are none in the men's?"
     "If not, then I'll go."
     The restrooms were inside.  I walked in, past Ivan or whoever, and went
into the men's room.  Sure enough: the usual machine dispensing fifty-cent
condoms.  Four different kinds.  Of course, I had only one quarter.  Back
out to the car.
     "First, " I said, crouching by her open window, "what type do you want,
and second and most important, do you have any quarters?
     "Type?  What difference does it make?  What types do they have?"
     "Uh, regular, ribbed, ultra-thin, and multicolored."
     "I don't care.  And no, I don't have any quarters, I left my purse back
at your apartment."
     "How about the ribbed ones?" I smiled.
     "Uh, no.  But the multicolored ones might be cute."
     And so, back to Ivan.  On the way in, I figured out what to do.  I
shopped carefully, buying a soda and some candy, calculating the change so
as to be sure I got the maximum number of quarters.  My mathematics major
didn't go for naught.  Three quarters, added to the one I had: giving me the
chance to choose two packs of rubbers.  But of course, the whole stratagem
fell apart, because I had to go back into the restroom and get them.  Ivan
would know for sure what I was up to.  But there was no choice, so in I
went, selecting a pack of multicolored, and a pack of ultra-thins.  The
ultra-thin concept sounded pretty good to me, although I was sure they were
in reality probably the same as the regular ones.
     I walked back out past Ivan, who looked up from his tiny
black-and-white TV just enough to glance out to Ria wanting in the car, then
up at me with a knowing smile.  "Have a nice night." he said, in some vague
middle-eastern accent; but the smile knew no borders or languages.  I smiled
back and headed back into the warm past-midnight air.
     As I climbed back into the car, I gave her the goods.  "Just two?" she
asked.
     "Two not enough?" I replied.  "You must have some big plans."
     "Yeah, I should never shop when I'm hungry." she said with that contagious
laugh of hers.
     "Only had four quarters," I mentioned.
     "It's not too far back here, if we need more," she reassured herself. 
"How about if we take Midland road home?"
     "Why?" I asked.
     "'Cause it goes past that video store."
     "And?"
     "I might want to rent a movie, dummy.  Why else would I want to go to a
video store for?"
     "Um, well, I kind of thought our plans included something other than
movie-watching."
     "They have an X-rated section.  In fact, it's two-thirds of the store."
     "Ah, I see." I smiled.
     "I'm curious," she continued.  "I've never seen a porno movie."
     "Purely an academic interest, I'm sure," I deadpanned again.  This time, her
tongue came out with no corresponding remark.  But the way she wagged it at
me was more sexy than teasing.


     "Judi's Video" proclaimed the pink neon sign.  We both got out this
time, and entered.  Again, a deserted shop, with a bored proprietor leaning
back in a broken green easy chair behind the counter, reading something
paperback with a yellow cover.  The room was fairly small, with a narrow
selection of mainstream videos.  In the back, a double door with the sign
"Adult Section" in red beckoned to all who entered.
     "Hi.  I'm Phil.  Can I help you two?"  the clerk, obviously not Judi,
looked up.  Phil looked so slick he could have just emerged from his
hog-grease wallow.
     "No, thanks, we're just looking."  I replied.  He went back to his book.
     Ria whispered conspiratorially in my ear: "You go back in and pick one
out.  I'll pick one out here."
     "Hell the fuck no," I whispered back.  "Your idea to come here.  You're
not slipping out of this one.  Let's go back together."
     She followed me through the wide doors, the ones with the sign "If You
Are Offended by Adult Material, Please Do Not Enter." What we did enter was
a seedy wonderland of brightly colored video boxes, which, despite the
variety of attention-getting designs and colors all seemed, in total, to
give off a flesh-colored aura.  There were easily five times as many
selections back here as in the front.
     We studiously looked over the possibilities, with idea what we were
looking for.  "It's up to you," I said, after a while.
     "I don't know, you pick one." she replied.  We wandered up and down
aimlessly, overwhelmed by the variety.
     Shortly, the doors opened and in slid Phil.  Wanting no doubt to see
what this couple was doing in his adult section past midnight.  No, not
that, he could just watch us on his security TV screen if he wanted.  No,
he must want some personal contact.
     "Need some help?" he said to Ria, "I'll be glad to help you."
     Ria looked back up at him, her five foot five to his six feet two.  "I
think I'll go wait in the car.  You pick one," she blurted suddenly, and
bolted for the exit.
     As the doors closed, he said to me "Didn't mean to upset her."
     I didn't reply to that, just reached out and grabbed one with a tangled
ball of naked people on the cover, and headed out after her.
     Back out of the adult section, Ria waited, not having made it all the
way to the parking lot. "Let's get this one sweetie," she suggested,
thrusting a video into my hands.
     Phil meanwhile had made it around to the rear of the counter.  I handed
him our two selections.  Hers, "Curly Sue", with a picture of a cute little
kid on the cover.  A Disney production, no doubt.  I on the other hand had
"Cum Demons 9".  Production company not prominently displayed on the
cover.
     "Are you guys members here?" Phil asked.
     "No, not I, are you?" I looked at Ria.
     "Nope," she replied.  "What does it take to join?" she asked the
greaseball.
     "A driver's license and credit card."
     "I've got the license," I volunteered, "have you got a credit card?"
     "No, remember where I told you I left my purse."
     "Has to be the same person, anyway, unless you are married," Phil
explained laconically.
     "Look, isn't there some way, I mean, we aren't going to rip you off or
anything," Ria pleaded.
     Silence, as the undoubtedly slow and oil-clogged wheels in Phil's head
turned.
     "Well, you look like two nice kids," he said, looking from me to Ria. 
I guess we did look young: he was about in his forties I'd guess, unless the
grease acted as a preservative, in which case all bets were off.  "I could
take a fifty dollar deposit.  Normally, it's seventy-five for two videos."
     "Fifty dollars?  Way too much!" Ria replied.
     "It's just a deposit.  You get it back when you return them.  Hey, I'm
just trying to be nice here." I think Phil was from New York, and not
entirely comfortable yet with the Southern way of doing things.  I checked
my wallet. Thirty-five dollars.
     "I've only got thirty-five," I told Ria.  She looked at me, and there
was a pause.  Then, sheepishly, she reached into her front pocket and
withdrew a crumpled twenty.
     "Okay," she said.  I paid Phil, then we stood there as he slowly
completed the transaction, waiting for some smart remark from him.  He
obviously knew what this was all about, and it wasn't going home and
watching "Curly Sue".  Finally, with no visible hint of a reaction from
Phil, whatever he was thinking, we exited at last, from the stale air into
the humid but clean outdoors.  When we got into the car, as I started it she
laughed.  "Fifty fucking dollars!" she roared.
     "You were prepared," I remarked.
     "Always be prepared," she replied.  "Isn't that the scout motto?"


     The bell on my door, there presumably to alert me to any serial killers
coming in to wipe me out, so I'm fully awake when I die, dinged cheerfully
as we re-entered the apartment. Everything was as before, and Ria went in to
the tiny kitchen to get a beer, asking me if I wanted one.  I said yes, and
asked if I should put the tape in.
     "Which one?"
     "Which one do you want?" I shot back.
     "Let's flip a coin."
     Sure. Right. A coin. I pulled out a nickel and told her to call it in
the air.  "Heads for 'Cum Demons', tails for 'Curly Sue'."
     "Shouldn't that be the other way around?"
     "It works either way.  Hey, it's tails." I reported as the spinning
coin settled down.
     She came in the with the beers to me, in front of the VCR.  "Two out of
three?" she suggested.
     "Fuck it let's just put in 'Cum Demons'," I finally gave in.
     "Okay," she said, having shifted the decision to my shoulders yet
again, all the while acting innocent.  She settled in on her side of the
couch, and having inserted the tape, I settled on mine.


     The movie was...well...a porno movie.  Even as that, it was a bit
disappointing.  Videotaped like most low-budget modern porn, it had no plot
at all, but that was no matter...one doesn't rent these things for the
story.  One hopes instead for hot sex.  But in this particular video the
actors seemed mostly to be going through the motions.  Still, if I'd have
been alone it would have been plenty enough to get me going.  But with Ria
right next to me, I couldn't concentrate on the movie.  I was instead intent
on her reaction.
     "Now, where's he going to put the other ten inches?" was her first
comment.  Indeed, the hero did appear to be overly well endowed.  We
laughed.  But silence resumed after that one outburst.
     I looked across at her several times.  She was watching, but there was
no obvious reaction either positively or negatively.  Nor did I seem to be
reacting by getting aroused.  It just didn't seem like the actors were
really enjoying themselves, especially the women, which is key to me.  I was
beginning to think the movie was a failure as a way to get us hot.  Ria did
however get more comfortable by stretching herself out on the couch, her
bare feet in my lap.  I considered caressing them, but knew it would
probably only tickle her and take her mind off what I hoped might still get
her warmed up.
     That's when the obligatory lesbian scene came on.  The two girls who
were, I guess, supposed to be the Cum Demons had already swallowed several
mouthfuls of what they supposedly craved, and now settled down for some R &
R time with just themselves.  It was clear immediately that the two
actresses didn't care much for the studs, but were into each other for real. 
Smiles seemed genuine onscreen as tongues were exchanged, kisses rained down
on soft bodies, and finally the two Demons arranged themselves in a tight
sixty-nine with the handheld camera floating above them.
     I finally forgot about Ria for a moment (that seems odd to type as I
write this, but it's true).  The scene was hot and it produced a reaction in
me.  Gradually, I, at least, started on that sweet transition from the zone
of normal life to the zone of sex, where everything looks and feels
different and wonderful.
     "What's this?" came the question from the other side of the couch.  "My
feet seem to be ... rising up ..."
     A storm of giggles followed.  I just turned to her and smiled.  It was
true of course.  My erected had happened right under her feet. Her smile
following the giggles was radiant.  Forgetting the movie, she began to work
her feet in my lap, caressing my shaft with her toes through the denim.  Oh,
did it feel so sweet.  I didn't move, but just watched her bare toes move
sexily on my cock.
     "The lezzie stuff got to you, didn't it?" she asked.
     "It wasn't so much the lezzie stuff, as the fact that it looked like
they were enjoying some real pleasure with each other.  Didn't it get to you
at all?"
     "What gets to me, sweetie, is sitting here thinking about getting it on
with you.  And it feels like you're thinking along the same lines." Her toes
worked harder into me.
     "I am, oh, yes, I am," was all I could say.  At that, she pulled back
her legs, rose up, and then kind of just leaned forward into me.  Our mouths
found one another's quickly.  We both love kissing.  Sweet sexy lips and
tongues, swirling and licking and nibbling and sucking.  We get pretty
sloppy, and both love it.
     The feel of her body, warm next to mine.  The feel of her hot mouth on
mine, kissing with abandon.  The sweetness of the touch of her tongue on
mine.  The smell of her body, her hair, her heat.  I was lost in all those
things, the world having closed in until just the miniscule distance between
us was the boundary of the known universe.  Sinking swiftly into the pool of
radiance where thoughts yield to feelings, feelings alone.
     Transition made, in record time.  We're in the Sex Zone.  Full arousal,
hard stiff cock and sloppy wet pussy.  But the kisses go on, broken only by
little pauses where articles of clothing are stripped off and descend to the
floor, or over the back of the couch, or who knows where.  My shirt, her
top.  Hard little nipples boring into my chest, against my own nipples, as
she kisses hard again, seeming to slurp the saliva out of my mouth and into
hers.  All the pretend innocence gone now, long gone away.
     Soon, pants are pulled off.  We both want full nakedness.  Underwear
follows, punctuated by wet kisses and nibbles and sighs.  She makes a little
moaning noise that moves my heart whenever I kiss her at the spot where her
neck meets her shoulder.  The exaggerated moans and groans coming from the
movie are still filling the air, but mostly forgotten.  The tiniest sincere
sexual noise has more impact than a thunderous ovation of fake howls.
     Naked at last, we find ourselves entangled on the couch, both sitting
up in one of those exotic positions in the Kama Sutra, or in the ancient
Asian erotic art.  We're young and flexible, and manage to get our legs far
enough out of the way so that, at last, our yearning naked sexes press up
warmly against one another.
     Sighing, we wrap our arms tightly around one another and kiss tenderly. 
I feel the hot smooth velvet of her slit, open and wet, pressed against the
underside of my desperately sensitive cock.  We kiss, and try to hold still,
but it just doesn't work.  Her loins start a small subtle hump around the
same time as mine do.  Fiery stings of sugary sweet feelings radiate all
over us.  Our bodies alive, human, yearning, feeling.  Kissing, tongues
entwined, nipples touching, pussy and cock soldered together and rubbing.
The sweet nastiness of sex.
     Finally, she breaks it off.  "Where are the rubbers?" she asks, her
voice changed to an octave lower by some magic, it seems.
     "You had them," I croak.
     "Fuck where did I put them?" she leaps off the couch and retrieves her
discarded pants, searching the pockets with quick nimble fingers.  "Ah!" she
grunts in triumph.  The crisis over, she returns on her knees to the side of
the couch, and bids me to slide down a bit.  I do, now laying fully
stretched out, with my ass settled firmly in the center, head next to one
armrest, feet on the other.  She takes my very hard cock in her hands, and
begins stroking while watching it lovingly.  I can see the warmth in her
eyes, her love of my body and it's sexiness.  But the feeling is too much. 
I haven't even masturbated for about two days, and so the feeling is extra
intense.
     "I love it, " I finally say, "But if you keep it up I'll come."
     "No, I need you inside me." She rips open the pack of ultra-thins, and
pulls the little rubber ring out.  From practice, she knows what to do, and
fits it over the tip of my cock, and with those sensitive fingers rolls it
down to the base.  The "raincoat" (as she calls it) on, she gives me one
last hand rub, and hurriedly climbs up on the couch, spreading her lovely
thighs until her knees fit on either side of my waist, and her pink
hair-lined slit is right above my cock.  The hurry she is in is sexy in
itself.
     At first, as always, it looks like it will be an impossible fit.  I'm
not all that long, but I am quite wide.  But bravely she descends, and soon
we both see the broad head squeeze in and disappear.  She sighs, and goes
lower, lifting a little and then back down, to help coat the rubberclad cock
with what she calls her own personal motion lotion.
     At last it's all in, and she settles contently down with her thighs
resting on mine.  I can see her savoring the feelings in her face, eyes
closed, sexy half smile on her wet lips.  Condoms aren't my favorite thing,
but one good thing they do is let a horny guy endure a girl sitting slowly
down on his cock without coming.  Bare, the feelings might have been enough
to make me shoot.
     Soon, she leans forward, eyes still closed.  "Fuck." she says, as if
giving an order to herself.  Then her motion starts, a steady slow rise and
fall of her hips.  This is our favorite position.  I get to lie there,
lazily, and let her do the work while getting to watch her sexy body doing
that special dance above me, tits jiggling, tongue sometimes absentmindedly
licking her own lips.  She gets to control the motion and level of
stimulation, as well as the angle.  It's the only position where she comes
with my cock alone inside her.  Doing doggy, she frigs herself.  I've never
known her to come in the missionary position.  It would have been easy to
fake, but one thing I love about her is her honesty.
     The pleasure rises quickly for both of us.  The days of abstention,
plus the horny buildup, has us peaking early.  Even the condom can't hide
the sweet pleasure of her riding my cock.  I hear myself moan and sigh. 
She's breathing hard.  Moving more quickly.  Bending forward more, to
increase the rubbing near her clit, I suppose.  She starts her come-chant.
     "Oh, baby, oh....oh, god, baby, god....oh yes....yes
.....yes....yes..." her voice gets higher pitched.  I myself feel my vision
blur as my eyes want to close, but I force them open to see her face.  It's
a picture of transported ecstasy.  I'm trying to hold out so I can come when
she does.
     "Oh, baby, close, baby, oh...god...yes....gonna cum....cum....oh YES!"
the last a sudden gasp.  She leans back then, her face almost turned up to
the ceiling. "Ahhhieeeeeeeeeeee" is as close as I can come to her little
cream scream, she calls it.  Her hips jiggle.  She just lets her body
explode with no restraint.
     I do too.  It's been almost impossible to hold, and so I don't anymore. 
My cock stiffens deliciously, and I mumble "cumming" but I don't know if she
hears.  Her cunt is still spasming as my squirts pulse the sperm up into the
tip of the condom.  Oh, what killing agony of pleasure.  Our moans mingle
together.
     When the spasms stop on both sides, she falls down on me.  Sweaty
bodies in the hot night slap together.  Hard, ragged breathing, heaving
chests, reeling minds.


     Eventually, of course, we recover.  In each other's arms.  Little
kisses. "Oooooo baby." she finally croons into my ear, her warm breath
tickling me.  My cock is still inside her, but shrinking.  A few more
kisses, and she climbs off slowly.
     The rubber looks really obscene, hanging off the end of my deflating
cock, filled with it's load of milky white sperm, coated with Ria's goo. 
She touches it with her finger, indicating acceptance and not repulsion.
     "Well, looks like it didn't break," she smiles, "Guess when my little
egg comes strolling down the tube with her fuck-me pumps on, she won't find
any little wrigglers there to waylay her."
     "We wouldn't want that.  No little Toms or Rias running around under
our feet." I reply.~~
     "Sure enough," she says.  I struggle to my feet, limbs slow with the sexual
languor, and stagger to the bathroom, remove the condom, and flush it
down.  When I return she's glowingly waiting.  And wanting.
     A full-body naked hug, tight and long and warm, followed by her
presenting the second rubber, still wrapped in rainbow colors.  "Bedroom?"
she asks. "About time." I reply, and in we go to my little double bed, just
room enough for two if you sleep on your sides.


     In the wee hours of the morning, we at last ended our gasping and
thrashing yet again.  Exhausted, we lay cuddled together on the tiny bed,
her back to me, her naked ass pressed against my sated loins.  With sleepy
eyes and sleepy thoughts, I asked if we were going to swear this off again.
     "We'll think about it in the morning" were her last conscious words. 
I drifted off, behind her, to the sound of her cute little snores.




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



If you liked this story, or even if you didn't, send me some email
as feedback. It's the only way we authors know we're reaching a public.
And if you liked it, read my other stories, which I periodically post to
alt.sex.stories and alt.sex.stories.moderated.
Or check out my web page at http://www.sysun.com/dhl

My email address is dhl@sysun.com

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