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Message-ID: <46861asstr$1077624605@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Russell Hoisington" <hoisingr@hushmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} {Mardi Gras} Thoughts {Hoisington} (MF rom nosex)
Lines: 281
Date: Tue, 24 Feb 2004 07:10:05 -0500
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                            THOUGHTS
                  A Mardi Gras Festival Story
                                
                       Russell Hoisington

  ************************************************************

This is an erotic fantasy.  The characters and the situation are
purely imaginary, and this story is *NOT* intended to be a guide
for actual behavior.  Any similarities between this story and
actual people, or between this story and actual events that you
should be ashamed of, are purely coincidental.  If it is illegal
for you to access and read erotic fiction, or if you don't like
sex stories, then stop now.

This story is copyright 2004 by Russell Hoisington.  You may post
freely to non-commercial (free) sites, or in the "free" area of
commercial sites as long as you do not remove the author
information or make any changes to this story.  This does *not*
mean that it is in the public domain, nor does it mean that I
give permission for you to use it in spam advertising.  I reserve
the right to determine what is "spam advertising" by *my*
definition, not yours or anyone else's.

Thank you for your consideration.

                           ~~~~~~~~~~
I lay motionless in the darkness, savoring the lingering scent of
Elyssia's perfume and the tingle of her sweet kiss on my lips,
and I thought about our final encounter.

     "Tell me?  Please?" Elyssia had asked in the consummate
voice for breakfast coffee, lunch in bed, and evenings beside the
crackling fireplace.  I squeezed her hand, and in these words I
did.
                              ~~~
     My dorm mate had suggested we head to New Orleans for Mardi
Gras.  I thought that was a bad idea with a major economics test
bearing down.  "Damn it, Jim!" he said in his idea of a Georgia
accent.  "I'm a party animal, not a professional student."  The
hidden joke in there is that he's James and I'm Leonard.

     "Look," he said, wiping popcorn grease on his jeans before
putting my desk calendar atop my open textbook and flipping it to
the next month.  He paused to pat Miss March affectionately on
the derriere.  "I got it all worked out.  We leave after your
last class tomorrow.  I can cut P-Chem lab 'cause I'm ahead
anyway.  We take turns driving, and we can be in New Orleans
Saturday afternoon.  We party through Tuesday night, spend
Wednesday driving back, and you can make most of your Thursday
classes.  Thursday evening, you have Bridget give you copies of
her notes from Monday and Wednesday classes.  Friday, Averton
will review for the test.

     "You'll have all weekend to study for the test, and you know
Bridget will help you, though I don't know why she prefers you to
me since we're virtually twins.  Don't I have brown hair?"  He
began wild hand movements with an exaggerated voice.  "Don't I
have green eyes? Don't I weigh two thirty-five?  Don't I
wear...."

     I tuned him out and thought about what he had said while he
worked his way through Standard James Speech Number Three.  Yeah,
I've numbered six of them.

     "In fact," he said when he finally arrived at the end and I
resumed listening, "the only difference between us is that I'm
five-eight and you're six-four and don't have glasses.  So whadda
ya think?  I can still get us a room."  He shoved more popcorn in
his mouth and stared at me.

     I thought it made sense the way he put it.  And if anyone
could find a room at that late date, it would be James.  "Okay! 
You win!"  I agreed to go, but I thought I'd regret it.

                               ~~~
     It was Fat Tuesday night.  The thought struck me that I'm
not a drinker like James, even when I'm partying.  One, two beers
max and I'm done for a couple of hours.  The two advantages of my
being a light drinker were that I would be able to drive back to
school the next day, and that I would remember anything that
happened that night.  He'd be lucky to remember anything since
about eight o'clock Saturday night.

     We were standing on a crowded first floor balcony in the
French Quarter.  I had a couple of dozen strings of beads from
James' stockpile looped around the crook of my left elbow.  He'd
obviously thought about Mardi Gras long before his last minute
"Let's go!" speech, which was typical.  Late in our freshman year
he finally realized he shouldn't talk me into something and then
give me time to change my mind.  He's operated that way since. 
I'll bet he made the room reservation a year earlier, when he
casually suggested we celebrate our senior year with a trip to
Mardi Gras, but I'll never ask him.  He wouldn't tell me anyway.

     I had only a vague idea of where we were, though I knew
Bourbon Street was that cross street to the right.  I had no idea
of how James had managed to get us spots on that side street's
low balcony.  The average street partyer's head was just below
waist level.  I thought it was the perfect place to hand out
beads to the best-equipped girls flashing past us and possibly
cop a feel or two.

     We had hit the motherlode.  I thought I'd run out of beads
about ten o'clock at the current rate of disbursement.  Music
from a boom box in the room behind us clashed with the noise from
the street, forming a throbbing din that made conversation
possible only by mouth-to-ear contact.  The odor of unwashed
bodies, stale beer, vomit, and urine blended with the acrid smoke
from the fireworks.  Several people on the balconies waved
sparklers.  Some idiot above us was throwing ladyfinger
firecrackers into the air.  Miraculously, none made it into the
crowd before exploding.  The young Hispanic couple next to James
had smuggled in three Roman candles and were preparing to light
them.  I thought this was the night I would remember even if
Alzheimer's stole everything else.

     And then I saw you, Elyssia.  "Love at first sight" ceased
to be a cliche at that instant.  Of all the women I'd seen that
night, I had to know your name and hear your voice.  
     I thought you surely were a goddess descended from Olympus
with that short, dark, wavy hair and flawless skin that reminded
me of smooth, translucent marble crafted by Michelangelo.  Those
large, liquid eyes have laughter carved into them, and I find
that an irresistible attractant.  My eyes feasted on those full,
lush lips that begged to be kissed not in lust but in adoration. 
And that pert nose is exactly the right size and shape for your
face.  I saw just a hint of eyeliner and eye shadow and knew
additional makeup would have been a desecration.

     I was devastated to realize you were across that side
street.  I waved five strands of beads frantically and shouted,
"HEY!" but you didn't notice me.  I froze, speechless, when you
lifted your top to flash someone for a single strand.  Elyssia,
I've seen many well-equipped women in my life, but never before
had I seen perfection.  As your top slid down to discourage a
groping hand I knew I was in honest, perfect, abject love.  I had
to see you up close or die.

     "HEY!" I screamed and waved again, my voice lost in the
cacophony surrounding us.

     James clapped my shoulder and slurred, "Wassa matta wit'
chu, Lenny?"

     "That one!"  I pointed at you.  "Black curly hair and white
shirt with the blue arm stripes, the one wearing all the beads. 
I'm in love, James, I'm in love.  I GOTTA see her up close. 
HEY!"

     He leaned in your direction and squinted, grabbing the
balcony railing when he lost his balance.  "Rack'sh tha' good,
huh?  Or's she givin' out feelsh?"

     I hadn't thought about feeling your breasts except in the
context of caressing every square inch of your body.  "I'll give
five strings just to see her face up close.  She's the most
gorgeous woman I've ever seen.  If I'm to be struck blind, let me
look at her close up just once so that I can always remember her. 
HEY!  Aw, she's not even noticing.  HEY!"

     James turned away, I thought to leave me time to memorize
all that I could of you from a distance.  Then he turned back and
held something showering red sparks in front of me.  With a loud
pop it fired a brilliant white ball across the street, barely
clearing the top of that building.

     "Use thish," he slurred.  I stole a sideways glance.  On his
other side both the young Hispanic woman, now topless, and her
husband grinned and nodded to tell me I had their blessing to use
the Roman candle.  I thought the wife would have been attractive
elsewhere, but the presence of a goddess rendered her but a drop
in a sea of ordinary mortals.

     The tube fired another blazing white orb, and I took it from
James and held it in my left hand.  "Thanks."

     "Lenny!" he slurred, trying to focus while dismissively
waving his hand.  "What're frin'sh for?  But this'll still cost
cha."  He turned to shove his hand down the front of the jeans of
the willing Hispanic woman, and I forgot about them.

     I waved the fire-spewing tube back and forth in front of me,
keeping it pointed toward open sky as I hoped that the moving
gush of red sparks would catch your attention even if the
shooting balls didn't.  Something did, and that's when I pointed
at you with the handful of beads.  Oh, how my heart stopped when
you smiled at me and began moving across the throng in my
direction.  But it stopped again when you paused for a quick
flash and strand of beads from someone else.  For a moment I
thought I'd lost you.

     Remember how you lifted your top as you approached?  I
didn't know whether to look at your flawless face or your perfect
breasts or the backs of your consummate wrists.  You are the most
beautiful being I have ever seen, Elyssia.  I wanted to remember
you in my mind's eye for eternity.

     Then the Roman candle exploded.

                              ~~~
     Elyssia slid my hand under her light wool sweater.  I don't
know angora from alpaca from mountain goat, but I thought it was
the warmest, softest, silkiest fabric I had ever touched.

     It felt like burlap compared to the sleek smoothness of my
goddess' stomach.  She guided my hand higher over the gentle
ripples of her ribs, and I discovered she wore no bra, not that
she needed one.  Her breast was firm and lush, radiating heat
that was a comfort to my hand.  It had weight, but it defied the
inexorable pull of gravity.  I felt the tip swell under my palm
and was overwhelmed with the worry that my coarse hands were an
irritation.

     "Only my husband and my doctor have ever touched them," she
said in a soft, coffee and hot cinnamon rolls voice as she let my
peasant's hand explore her goddess' treasures.

     Time resumed when I heard a noise behind her.  She smoothly
slid my hand from under the sweater, so skillfully that no one
would have suspected where it had been.  I pulled her hand to my
lips and despoiled the back of it with a kiss.  I thought it was
the gentlemanly thing to do and the least offensive way to show
my gratitude.

     She leaned forward.  I smelled a hint of spearmint on her
sweet breath as she pressed her lips to mine for an instant and
an eternity.  "I'll never forget you, either, Lenny.  Good bye,"
she said in a quivering voice as she straightened.  More
spearmint mixed with the scent of her perfume, each complementing
the other.  A hot tear splashed on my cheek, right at the bottom
edge of the bandages.  She brushed it away with a fingertip. 
"I'm so sorry, Lenny."

     My voice faltered.  I could only whisper, "Don't be."  I was
so grateful that she was uninjured.

     As she spoke to the surgeon on the way out the antiseptic
odors crept back to overwhelm the lingering scent of her perfume. 
They did not keep me from seeing her standing with her top
raised, looking up at me in all her radiant perfection, the last
scene my ruined eyes would ever behold.

     I thought it was a good trade.

                           ~~~~~~~~~~
Copyright Russell Hoisington 2004

   ************************************************************

     Those of us who write the stories you like to read have
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Russell Hoisington
State of Confusion

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