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From: "H. Jekyll" <h_jekyll2000@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} "Couch,"  by deirdre  (mf, voy)  -- rp by H. Jekyll and PleaseCain
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Date: Tue, 27 Dec 2005 09:10:02 -0500
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Couch (mf voyeurism) 
by deirdre

*****

NOTE: We are not the authors of this story. "deirdre" was the enigmatic
queen of Usenet sex stories in the mid-1990s. She posted 156 stories in
just over two years, using an anonymous remailer and apparently *never*
corresponding with anyone (though she did, in many introductions, give
permission to repost her stories to non-commercial sites). She was last
heard from in late April 1996. We will repost all 156 stories -- some
of which, such as this one, contain comments by her -- in alphabetical
order, between now and the 10th anniversary of her "retirement." In the
coming months, we will announce a "deirdre-fest" for next Spring.
Meanwhile, enjoy! 

To contact us: h_jekyll2000@yahoo.com, or PleaseCain@aol.com. 

*****

I'm posting five new stories:

Cabin..........f: mm mf hypnotism 
Couch..........f: mf voyeurism 
Daughter.......f: mf group anal (ff) 
Exam...........m: mf (mm) (ff) (bd) (anal) 
Run............m: mf mm tv ds

Incidently I *love* the reviews! Yes, yes, yes, thankyou, thankyou! We
writers are *desperate* for feedback--we *thrive* on it. We also lack
the time to read everything, thus appreciate the guidance. And when
they're done with intelligence, so much the better! I even like pans; I
now know I've written the *worst ever erotic story*. I invite all
reviewers to pretend there is a <*> in the subject of every story I
write. -- deirdre

Request to alt.sex.stories posters: if your posting does not include a
story, please don't post it to alt.sex.stories. Please post it to
alt.sex.stories.d.

Disclaimer: my stories, like the private sex fantasies of many people,
often depict "breaking some rules". Do not read this story if you
believe fantasy stories should never depict situations undesirable in
real life. Be warned that you may not be comfortable with the sexual
situations. Do not read this story if you are less than 18 years of
age.

Permission granted to archive, repost, or publish in low-cost CD-ROM
archives of alt groups. Permission granted to publish in anthologies of
this type of material if attributed to deirdre and an author's payment
is sent to AIDS research in the name of deirdre. -- deirdre

Couch by deirdre, 6/28/95

I looked at John lying on the couch. My husband, lying there, reading.
Our evening at home together. I wanted something to happen.

I put my book aside and watched him for a bit. He didn't notice, but
just kept reading. I slid out of my chair, kneeling next to his feet.
He glanced at me and smiled. And returned to his reading. He wanted to
finish the book. I wanted something else.

I reached for his zipper. I unzipped as quickly as I could and
unsnapped his jeans. I had his cock in my hand in seconds. I sensed him
lowering the book. I didn't look at him--only at his cock. I *know* he
likes that.

I leaned over and opened my mouth. Yes, it was hardening as I took it
in. I know he likes this. I wrapped my tongue around it and sucked.
Then I pressed my lips and tongue on it and pushed down 'til I felt it
at the back of my throat. And drew up. And down. I still kept my eyes
on his cock. It was very hard. I continued, not stopping.

I knew his eyes were on me. A peripheral glance revealed that he was
still holding the book up. But I knew: he was looking past it at me.
And if he wasn't, he certainly couldn't be concentrating on anything
else. I continued to slide my lips and tongue up and down the shaft of
his cock. I thought about swallowing it, taking it all the way down my
throat. I can't do that, but I thought about it.

He was harder still. I could tell that he was on the verge. I didn't
stop. I wanted him--I wanted his orgasm right then and there. I wanted
him to give it to me whether he wished to or not. I didn't stop.

I felt it. The pulsations, his involuntary spasms. The liquid in my
throat and mouth. I swallowed. I didn't look at him at all--only his
cock.

I sucked and sucked even while it softened. I sucked it clean, leaving
nothing. I still didn't look.

I withdrew my mouth, still sucking as I withdrew. My lips made a
kissing sound when they left it behind. Finally I looked at him, doing
my best not to smile. He was looking at me with half-closed eyelids. He
wasn't smiling either.

"Lie on the floor," he said. He hadn't moved. He seemed so serious. It
was the first thing either of us said since we'd started reading. I
wondered what was coming. I'd never done anything like this to him--we
didn't have any usual little ritual to follow. I slid back down to the
carpet, and lay on my back, looking at him, my knees raised in the air.

"On your side--face me." He hadn't moved. I did it.

"Bring yourself off."

I was stunned. I guess I had surprised him and now he had returned the
favor. I considered. I could stop it all. I could break the mood.

I didn't want to break the mood. I realized I could make myself do what
he asked. I'd just sucked his cock without his prompting. I could be
wanton. I unsnapped the front of my shorts and slipped my hand into the
waist, inside my underpants. I drew my knees up in front of my hand,
lying on my side, almost in fetal position. I didn't take my eyes off
him. And he didn't take his eyes off mine--we stared at each other.

I was wet. I fingered, obeying. Obeying my husband. I didn't care: this
was just a little game. Our eyes were still locked. I wanted him. I
wanted to come. But he'd already come and it was my doing. I fingered.

It felt good--very good. Yes, I can do myself better than he can. I
hate to say that, but there it is. I felt my breathing picking up. I
realized I was breathing through my mouth. He still looked at me, never
glancing away. I liked that he was looking at me, my face. He wanted to
see what I was thinking, feeling.

It felt *so* good. What *was* I? Sucking his cock, then brazenly
masturbating in front of him. For his pleasure. And mine.

He slipped off the couch, onto the floor. He was sitting next to me,
then he was pulling my rear up so I was face down, on my knees and the
side of my head. He was behind me and I felt my shorts being pulled
down, and my underpants.

He was hard again. It was absolutely true--he was hard as a rock all
ready. And I was ready. I didn't stop fingering myself. I couldn't see
him behind me, but there was no ignoring him. It felt so good inside
me. I wanted to die.

I blinked. My mind spun for a second or two and I realized I'd seen a
face. In the window! I was facing the window above the couch and for a
brief time, I'd seen someone peeking between the curtain and the side
of the window. A woman--my next-door neighbor, Cathie. My mind raced.
She'd been stopping by about something and had glanced in the window.
Now she was racing back home, thinking who-knows-what.

Suddenly, I didn't care. If you peek like that, you get what you
deserve. Certainly the feeling of his cock continuing to stroke took my
mind off my embarrassment. I wated to come. I fingered and fingered. He
didn't stop. I guess he could stay because he had come before--he was
still so hard and he didn't stop.

It was so long. I knew he'd speed up. I loved it when he didn't but I
knew he would and I wanted to come. We did it so long I was nearly
crazy.

I *wanted* him to speed up. I loved so much what he was doing and I
wanted... I wanted *more*, I wanted to climax.

"So you were obviously enjoying yourself." Cathie, the next day. I
hadn't been sure we'd be comfortable facing each other, but she was
over, and obviously wasn't going to let the subject rest.

I didn't like talking about it and had to force myself to seem casual:
"Well, *you* were the one enjoying the show." Once the words had come
out of my mouth, I couldn't believe I'd said it.

She looked at me, and I could tell she could see right through my
discomfiture. She smiled, seeming a little amused at my performance.
But it was a good-natured smile and I felt the urge to laugh at myself
with her.

"You know what *you* should do?" she asked. I realized she now was
looking devious.

"What?"

"Fair is fair." She was still smiling. "You should spy on me and Tim."
I stared at her.

I stared in the window. I couldn't believe I was doing this, peeking in
their kitchen window, that same evening. There was no stopping
Cathie--she'd extracted my promise, and quietly checked when the time
came to see that I really was there. I could see them sitting in the
family room, watching TV.

Cathie stood up. She got in front of Tim, then actually stepped right
onto his easy chair, putting a foot on each side of him, just inside
each chair arm. But she'd lowered her body so she was crouching in
front of him, her hands on the back of the chair to steady herself. Her
legs were so long and slender and limber.

He looked up at her. She lowered her head toward him and kissed him on
the lips. I wanted to leave. She'd made me promise I wouldn't. But I
wanted to stay, too. Yes, I was hooked.

They kissed. It was sweet. I thought about John--maybe I could do
something like that.

Suddenly Tim was on his feet, somehow holding Cathie under his right
arm. He was definitely strong. He had her shorts off and he pulled off
her top and she was completely naked! Still holding her, he walked
right over to the window where I was peeking in! I ducked.

I heard noises, then breathing. The window was open, just a screen
between them and me. I lifted my head a little and found Cathie looking
out the window. There was a table in front of the window and she was
apparently face down on it. I raised my head a little more and saw the
top of Tim's head--he was standing behind her. Cathie was breathing
deeply--she couldn't seem to get her breath. I could see her eyes, they
were unfocused. She jerked, her head and her whole body jerked toward
the window. Again, then again. She was breathing harder still. I was
inches from her face, watching her. I saw her eyes focus on me. It was
like she hadn't seen me before and now she did. She kissed the air in
front of me and then grinned. All the while, her body was jerking. Then
she kissed the air again, then her eyes went out of focus again though
she was still right there in front of me. She was breathing so hard. My
hand slipped in the elastic band of my shorts and into the front of my
underpants. She was vocalizing on each breath, still jerking.

I slipped to the side of the window and stood higher, careful to remain
out of Tim's site. I could see more of her body and the side of his
hip. He appeared to be naked as much as I could see. He held her wrists
behind her with both his hands and pounded into her. Her body continued
to jerk each time he pushed. Her naked back. She started moaning,
louder and louder. My fingers inside my underpants didn't stop. She
yelled. I came.



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