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Message-ID: <46943asstr$1077970205@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "madmary" <mintakanospam@lisp.com.au>
Subject: {ASSM} To Those Who Wait 03 {virgosun} (MF Fsolo cons rom)
Lines: 470
Date: Sat, 28 Feb 2004 07:10:05 -0500
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




"Pam? Are you all right?"

Reality struck as solidly as a bucket of icewater. She 
snapped her legs together and rolled away, doubling up 
and tugging her nightie down in a maidenly way. "Yes, 
yes, I'm fine," she managed coolly.

"You were shaking, Pam, are you sure?" he asked 
concernedly.

"Tom, I'm fine, really," she declared, an irritable edge 
creeping into her carefully controlled tone.

"It's not heat exhaustion, is it?"

"How long have you been awake?" she snapped. "I said I'm 
O-K!"

"I thought you might have a chill," he insisted. A warm 
hand was cupped over her sticky brow. She grit her teeth 
and wriggled away, almost on the very edge of the 
mattress.

_Damn! I knew I'd get caught!_ "Tom, if you MUST know, I 
was...masturbating." She whispered the last word primly, 
spitting it out very quickly so that perhaps he wouldn't 
hear.

"Oh," he said, quietening and shuffling back his way 
somewhat; certainly taken aback. "Oh. Ahem, sorry, 
hrrm."

She shook her head. "No, it's me who should be sorry... 
this is so embarrassing! I should have gone somewhere 
else."

"On this ship? Where would you go?" he snorted, with the 
air of someone already acquainted with privacy issues.

"I should have at least gone to the bathroom. I'm sorry, 
I thought I could get away with it, you seemed to be 
sound asleep and the last thing I wanted to do was 
disturb you. It's just, you know, sometimes there's an 
itch you just absolutely have to scratch."

"It's all right, Pam, I know that itch, it bothers me 
too from time to time," he admitted. "I just, er, didn't 
think you had the same itch, but of course you would, I 
mean we're both only human." Now he sounded as 
embarrassed as she felt. "There's a reason for my late 
nights sometimes. I work hard, and I'm not twenty 
anymore, but still, you know, it gets to you at times."

"At least you have the sense and common decency to use 
the bathroom."

He chuckled gently. "Never mind, Pam. I hope I didn't 
spoil it for you, that's all."

"Well, it was a bit of a shock, I must say." She hugged 
herself, then reached for the sheet and pulled it over 
her guilty body, wrapping herself snug and tight. She 
was superconscious of her lack of knickers.

"Uh...what I meant is, if you, er, didn't finish, I 
could take a walk upstairs for a while," he said 
awkwardly.

"Oh, no, it's all right, I'm, yes, okay now. Thank you." 
She huddled down in her sheets feeling ashamed and 
repentant, while Tom rolled onto his back and folded his 
arms behind his head, now as awake as her. After a 
while, he spoke again, slow and hesitant.

"Pam...who do you...think about?"

"Pardon?"

"When you...do that...is it Mark you think about?"

She gave a nervous giggle. "Not always. Sometimes, yes, 
but sometimes thinking of Mark makes the loneliness 
worse, you know? I think about...a few different men, 
but I'm not telling who. The sexiest man I can think of 
at the moment is married to someone else, wouldn't that 
be the way?"

He sighed. "Tell me about it! You can't always have what 
you want."

"And you shouldn't go wishing for what you can't have 
either, or so they say. You might end up disappointed." 
She relaxed a little. Sleep was still staying well 
clear, but if Tom wanted to talk, that would be good. 
Their conversations had spanned many things from the 
banal to the esoteric over the years; why not sex too?

He thought for a moment. "Hmm? No, I can't imagine so. 
Nothing she did could disappoint me."

"Have you...had anyone since Linda?"

"No. I thought about going to a prostitute, but...no. 
Have you?" he countered.

"Not at all. I've settled for dreams. I used to think of 
Mark a lot more in the past, but, it's like...there's 
things he wouldn't do, and I wonder what they would be 
like."

He chuckled speculatively. "Like what?"

"I'm not telling you!" she giggled.

"You can tell me," he said, lightheartedly coaxing. "I 
promise not to be scandalised. After what I just caught 
you doing, we can't keep any secrets from each other any 
more."

"Tom..." They laughed and fell silent for a while, Pam 
continuing after they had sobered. "So, who do you think 
of?"

"Oh, this one and that one. Sometimes nobody, it's just 
something I do, then get on with the rest of my life." 
He chuckled, a warm flirtatiousness coming into his 
tone. "Glenny...I've fantasised about her since we were 
at school, but there's no way anything real would come 
of it. Sara...Louise is a fine looking woman...but I 
know, they're all off-limits." His tone lowered, 
becoming soft as velvet. "I'd be a liar to deny you've 
been in there sometimes. Tell me about your wildest 
sexual fantasies, Pam. Perhaps..."

She lay very still, scarcely daring breathe. "You're not 
about to suggest we help each other out in the physical 
sense, are you?" she said dubiously. "I mean, I know 
we're friends, but..."

"No, no, before you jump down my throat, that's not what 
I meant at all," he chastised gently. "But experiences 
shared...I mean mentally, not physically. Forgive my 
curiosity, no doubt it's undue. Sometimes I tire of my 
same old worn-out imaginings, and I'd like to hear 
something fresh. We've often shared insights on many 
things. But only if you wish it."

"My wildest sexual fantasy?" she mused.

"What sort of things do you like?"

"Ohh..." She gave a little laugh. "I...don't know, 
really, there's a few. Always in a sumptuous setting, 
silk and satin sheets, heavy drapes trimmed with gold. 
Or in a huge marble bathhouse, with oils and scents and 
bubbles, and long slow body rubs." She sighed at the 
thought, relaxing, imagining gentle fragrance. "Deep, 
plush towels...In an exotic location, some exciting 
faraway land."

Tom hummed agreement. "Bathing in milk, waited on hand 
and foot by eunuchs?"

"Who said anything about eunuchs?" Pam retorted 
humorously, and they laughed. "Gorgeous men with 
beautiful neat bottoms who could make love to me slo-
owly, all night, who would kiss me all over...and I mean 
ALL over, especially...you know."

"Really? Mm hmm...that could be fun. That's the thing 
Mark wouldn't do, I expect."

"Far too fussy, you know what he was like. Might have 
messed up his moustache." She smiled, rolling onto her 
back, joining Tom in gazing at the darkness overhead. 
"You did say this was about fantasy, about what isn't 
real, the things we can't have but can dream of."

"For Pam, next birthday--one palace with extended 
bathroom and spa, staff of naked bucks for intimate 
service. I'll see what I can do," he chuckled.

"What about you, Tom?" she murmured dreamily. He gave a 
deep chuckle.

"Ohh, my wildest fantasy? It's too racy."

"Go on." She elbowed him in the ribs.

"Oow! All right, but you've got to promise not to laugh. 
It's pure fantasy."

"I promise."

"All right." He drew a breath, tone becoming coy. "I'm 
in this, ahem, classroom, and instead of being the 
goody-goody I always was at school, I've actually been a 
naughty boy because I'm naked, stark naked...now you 
promised you wouldn't laugh." She put her hand over her 
mouth and suppressed a giggle.

"I'm sorry. Do go on."

"Don't laugh, and don't be scandalised, so I know you 
will be when I admit that _you're_ the teacher, and 
you're wearing a very, very short skirt and seamed 
stockings, suspenders..."

Now she couldn't not laugh, face glowing with 
embarrassment. "Thomas!"

"...and when I've been naughty you send me to your 
office, and then you come in and..."

"No, wait, let me guess--give you a right good 
spanking."

"You know me too well! I was ony dreaming...at least, I 
thought it was a dream..."

"Tom...you're having me on! I didn't think you were the 
spanking type." He had always had a creative streak, but 
somehow she hadn't envisioned him as having a sexy 
imagination. She had programmed herself not to think of 
him in any sexy way, precisely because he was her 
husband's brother, beyond touch, married, out of reach.

His soft laughter held a self-deprecating tone. "Well, I 
learned a thing or two about you, too. It's not so much 
the spanking, it's the nudity thing that gets me. I 
mean, in real life I'm way too shy to go around with no 
clothes on. Do you remember when Linda wanted to join 
that nudist camp?" Pam giggled. "There's no way I could 
have done something like that, but she wanted to, and 
she did, what's more. Which was fine for her, so long as 
she didn't expect me to go along."

"Were you afraid things might pop up inappropriately? I 
agree, it's not my cup of tea..."

"No, well, yes, but not just that." He sighed. "Nudity 
is for bathing, hospital in an emergency, and for making 
love - that's that. So if I'm not unconscious in 
hospital, or having a wash, then it must be erotic - 
very erotic. I mean, some men sleep naked, but I 
couldn't - sleep means pyjamas of some kind, even on a 
night like this. Naked means, well, something else."

Pam was very aware of her naked pussy beneath the scant 
coverage of the nightie, and kept trying to smooth the 
cloth down. "But aren't we all naked beneath our 
clothes?" she asked, going for the philosophical angle.

"Perhaps so, but it's what you can see that counts, 
isn't it? I don't have x-ray vision."

"But what if you were blind, say? Or, look, it's almost 
pitch black in here. How do you know whether I'm naked 
or not, especially given what I was doing a little while 
ago? And how do I know you're not laying here naked 
getting your thrills?"

He gave a deep, devilish chuckle. "If I were naked, by 
now I'd be shaking and shivering with pleasure! Ow, 
that's a vicious elbow you have there!"

"Thomas!" She unthinkingly assumed her most 
schoolmistressly tone. "You ought to be spanked for a 
remark like that! With your pants on, too!"

There was a moment's silence, when she realised she 
might have gone a little close to fantasy's borderline. 
"Well, I _am_ wearing shorts," he said coyly. "Shall I 
roll over?"

"Oh, Tom!" she giggled, and he started to turn his 
shoulders away from her as if to present his rump. "Stop 
it! I couldn't! I'd feel silly!" He chuckled, the 
tension easing as he lay flat again.

"As to whether you're naked or not, you're right, I've 
no way of knowing. We haven't touched, so I can't say by 
feel. I have to rely on conjecture, the way I read your 
personality, and thus to the best of my knowledge you 
are most likely clothed, even taking into account your 
earlier activities. Am I correct?"

She took a breath, heart skipping up a beat. "And even 
if I'm wearing clothes now, how do you know what I might 
have done while you were asleep? How do you know I 
didn't dance like a naked fairy all over the room?"

"Did you? I'm sorry I missed the show! No. I could 
imagine you doing that, maybe...Fantasy Pam might do 
that, but real Pam wouldn't."

A fey, girlish thought caught her. She hopped up and 
attempted to skip around the bed, swinging her arms and 
swinging her nightie. Air tickled her snatch, and that 
delicious naughtiness of earlier returned. Her crotch 
was starting to tingle again, even though she was 
getting her feet tangled in bedding, shoes, and at risk 
of tipping over in the dark. Tom was laughing.

"Now I _know_ you've got your clothes on!"

She returned to her bedside and sat, feeling about with 
her feet for her missing panties. All this sexy talk - 
she really should get dressed again. "I'd give you about 
seven out of ten for that guess," she said saucily, 
breath catching. This flirting was invigorating, to say 
the least.

"Good heavens!" said Tom with some amazement and plenty 
of delight. "Which thirty percent is missing - oh, I 
think I know..."

"You're using deduction again. It's all in your mind."

"My goodness," he breathed, trying to imagine what she 
intimated, and still amazed. "How does it make you feel, 
being...thirty percent undressed?"

"Naughty!"

"Ohh yes, I know that feeling," he murmured.

"The part I like best is...the feeling of openness about 
parts of myself that are normally covered up and kept 
out of sight. See, you _can_ be naked whilst still 
wearing clothes," she declared as if delivering the 
winning speech in a debate. "It all depends on which 
parts of your body are covered, and which aren't. You're 
not wearing much, but you could wander up to breakfast 
in those shorts and still be acceptable because the 
important bits are covered."

She could imagine him shaking his head in wonder by the 
tone of his voice. "I still cannot believe you are 
sitting there with no undies on."

"See, what we have here is a question of appearances. 
There is no way I'd behave like this in public, by 
daylight. But here, in the dark, I can be bold and do 
anything I want! I could take _all_ of my clothes off!" 
She felt reckless, free of repressed daylight Pam and 
her fussy husband and their regimented sexual habits. 
Somehow, she had never felt so excited in her life.

"But how," Tom insisted pedantically, "do I _know_ 
you're naked? You could be stringing me along."

"Perhaps that's the point?"

"And you accuse me of being a tease," he said a little 
truculently. "Let's try a little experiment then, shall 
we?" The sheets rustled as he sat up. She glimpsed his 
shoulders and torso silhouetted against the ray of light 
from under the door. "Hmm." He bent down and gathered 
the blanket, and threw it across so that the light was 
blocked off, his shape disappearing into inky blackness. 
"There. Now we have complete anonymity. We cannot see. 
Now, we must not touch, nor speak. Only our ears will 
tell us what the other is doing. After a few seconds, we 
then describe what we're doing, and whether we're naked 
or not. Our imaginations, then, should take us on an 
extraordinary ride."

"Interesting," said Pam agreeably. "Do we tell each 
other where our imaginations take us?"

"Absolutely. No holds barred. Points awarded for... 
naughtiness." His voice was a daring murmur from above 
the foot of the bed.

"All right, I'm game," she said softly. In the close 
darkness, even the slightest movement could be heard. 
The end of the bed moved fractionally as Tom shifted his 
weight, doing whatever he was doing. She listened for 
the whisper of cloth on skin, but heard nothing. Moving 
as stealthily as she could, leaning back on her pillow 
for support, she spread her legs wide apart, pointing 
her moist cleft straight at where she guessed him to be. 

Her breath shuddered just a little as they both sat 
motionless and silent in the dark, waiting. Her vagina 
contracted in anticipation, ready to receive. Her clit 
jumped. Mark would have been in and out already.

What a wonderful, tantalising sensation!

"All right," said Tom, a rueful smile in his voice. "I 
give up. What are you doing?"  

She told him. "What about you?"

"I'm still here at the foot of the bed, only...I've 
allowed my old fellow to hang out and take a look 
around."

_A naked penis!_ Chris' whole body clenched with need. 
It didn't matter whether Tom was telling naughty fibs or 
not...for all their talk of fantasy, there was nothing 
she had ever wanted more. She swallowed, trying to 
steady her breathing, her voice. "You've still got your 
shorts on, then? Neither of us are naked yet. Are you.." 
Her voice trailed away to a whisper. "Erect?"

He chuckled. "Do you think so?"

"This is...intense! I-I don't know what to think, Tom."

"I estimate he's pointing directly at you, which 
suggests he, unlike me, can see in the dark."

"Thomas!" Suddenly, everything about their situation was 
absurd, even unbelievable. Her tension broke in 
laughter. She bounded upright, catching up a pillow and 
hurling it at him. Of course he was egging her on, 
playing the fool--that was the Tom she knew, his 
slightly loony sense of humour. He grunted and laughed 
and the mattress bounced as he bounded toward her in the 
dark, and the pillow swatted against her. She grabbed 
the other, and they batted and swiped giggling and 
panting like children. Sweat poured from their bodies, 
and at last they fell to the mattress, laughing.

"I need a shower," Tom sighed.

"A cold one?" Pam teased.

"You guess." He swivelled across the mattress and stood 
up in the bathroom doorway.

"Here's an idea," Pam murmured suggestively. "Leave the 
door open, and shower in the dark. You said nudity was 
okay for washing."

"So I did. But I might have more than just washing on my 
mind."

"Wimp!"

He laughed. "I suppose, since it was you who started all 
this with your lewd behaviour, that it's down to me to 
finish it." The last of his laughter echoed from within 
the bathroom, and then the shower hissed to life.

Pam lay down on the rumpled bedding, sprawled lazily, 
waiting her turn. She thought briefly about getting up 
and smoothing the sheet out again, about tidying up. She 
and Mark had always straightened up after their loving 
was done. But that would be silly, wouldn't it? She and 
Tom had done everything _except_ make love. She felt 
languid, sweaty, ravished, as if she had lived her dream 
of making love all night...

He seemed to be taking a long time in the shower. Was 
that a quiet but distinct, rhythmic slapping sound mixed 
with the whisper of water? She felt so sleepy now... 
sleepy...


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