index


Message-ID: <55181asstr$1168967403@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
Reply-to: rivyavtry@myway.com
From: "Riv"<rivyavtry@myway.com>
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
Subject: {ASSM} The Inside Job {Riv Yavtry} (MF, mast, ws)
Lines: 337
Date: Tue, 16 Jan 2007 12:10:03 -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





   All comments are welcome.Following feedback (thanks!) that I tend to
give too much away in opening comments, there's a footnote at the end of
the story.Riv Yavtry

   No banners.  No pop-ups.  No kidding.Make My Way your home on the Web -
http://www.myway.com

   _______________________________________________ No banners.  No pop-ups.
No kidding.  Make My Way your home on the Web - http://www.myway.com

	----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
	This post has been reformatted by ASSTR's
	Smart Text Enhancement Processor (STEP)
	system due to inadequate formatting.
	----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------

	
<1st attachment, "insidejob.txt" begin>

My name is Martin. I'm one of a number of Portfolio Managers working
at a small but highly-regarded investment company, fulfilling the
investment requirements of private clients. The company is unusual in
that we are salaried, with generous bonuses, rather than mainly
commission-based, and this engenders a spirit of co-operation rather
than competition within the company.

I am regarded as 'the sensible one'. The Ferrari in the car park
isn't mine, nor the Jaguar, nor any of the Porsches. Mine is the car
which can cope with pot-holes and speed bumps, can manage hills in
slippery conditions, and has enough luggage space for a fortnight's
holiday for two. I take the same approach with investments and I
handle the 'widows and orphans' clients, which usually means
investors who are approaching retirement and want relatively low-risk
investments. I search out investment opportunities which are
underpinned by solid assets, and so far I have always beaten the
building societies and the stock market, a record which attracts many
new clients through word of mouth. Of course, if a client wants a
preponderance of high-tech investments or investments in the BRIC
economies, I pass them to racier colleagues and vice versa.

Particularly amongst my younger colleagues, there is a culture of
nightclubbing with the aim of bedding as many pneumatic wannabee
glamour models as possible. That isn't for me. I'm happy to stay
faithful to my live-in
lover, Laura. Laura isn't beautiful in the traditional sense, more
quirky and girl-next-doorish, but she's a lot prettier than she
thinks she is and has a beautiful body. She's a rising star in the
legal world - in fact she's smarter than I am. I've met Laura's
parents and I like them, and if Laura looks as good as her mother in
30 years time, I will consider myself very lucky. Sex with Laura is
good, and it's very rare for either of us to decline an opportunity.

Life with Laura isn't all roses. We have the occasional fight, but
we certainly go to town with the making up afterwards. There's only
one thing I'd change - Laura is an anal virgin and wants to stay that
way. I've asked her a couple of times and both times she said no,
although not in an 'over my dead body' sort of way.

In my late teens, I dated a very wild girl who was up for anything.
She loved anal sex, she introduced me to it, and I grew to love it as
much as she did. She could cum just from anal penetration.
Unfortunately she graduated into hard drugs and other stuff I didn't
like. I realised that, despite the mind-blowing sex, I didn't like
her much as a person and I certainly didn't want to spend the rest of
my life with her, so we split.



Laura and I had had a fight, I think over some shopping that each of
us thought the other was going to get. It blew over as quickly as it
started and we ended up in bed, trying to fuck each other to death.
In afterglow of post-coital cuddles, I told Laura that I
loved her and I would die for her.

"I love you too, Martin, and I'd do anything for you," Laura replied.

"Anything?" I asked, immediately feeling rotten about taking
advantage of the moment.

"Almost anything," Laura recanted, knowing what I was thinking of.

"Would you let me fuck your arse?" What a klutz, I had to go and ask
it!

Laura didn't immediately say 'no'. She developed a serious look and
I could tell
her legal brain was at work. After a while, she seemed to reach a
decision.

"I'll make a deal with you. I'll let you fuck my arse if you can
make me cum without putting anything up my vagina or arse or touching
my clitoris," she offered.

Then she went into specifics, including no dildoes or vibrators and
definitely no electrodes. I agreed. I didn't have a plan on how to
win, but I going to enjoy trying.

Over the next couple of weeks I tried everything I could think of. I
massaged and kneaded her breasts and tweaked, pulled and sucked her
nipples until she was sore. Although I could make her wet, I could
never get her to orgasm until I gave up, after which she virtually
raped me. I licked and kissed her all over, including her perineum
and anal sphincter, I blew on her clitoris, I sucked her toes. Lots
of cunt-honey but no orgasm, and I had just about run out of ideas.




Thursday nights were my regular squash nights. I played in a league.
I had reached a plateau and was neither in danger of promotion nor
relegation. One Thursday my opponent was someone I'd never played
before, an older guy named Joe who had just been promoted from a
lower division. I was quietly confident. It turned out to be one of
the best games of squash I had ever played in. We both gave
everything and we were so evenly matched that at the end of our hour
only a single point separated us, unfortunately in his favour. As we
staggered, panting, red-faced and dripping sweat, into the changing
room, Joe invited me for a drink in the bar.

After showering and dressing, I made my way to the bar and he bought
me a drink. We congratulated each other on the standard of play, then
the conversation edged round to work. I told Joe I was an investment
manager and he told me he was a genito-urinary consultant at a large
teaching hospital. The conversation flowed easily, as did the drinks,
and after one too many, my challenge from Laura somehow slipped out,
although I didn't mention the reward for winning. Joe pondered for a
while.

"I might be able to help you. Let me think about it. When's our
return match?"

Each player plays every other player in the same division twice per
cycle. I looked at the schedule.

"Three weeks time," I replied.

At the end of the evening I got a cab home because I didn't think I
was fit to drive. Laura had gone to bed. That didn't mean I was in
trouble - we both accepted that we were entitled to a life outside
our relationship - but I didn't want to disturb her, so I slept in
the spare room. 



Three weeks soon passed and the rematch was upon us.

"Join me in the bar afterwards," said Joe before the game, "I've got
something for
you."

Of course I couldn't concentrate after that, and Joe ran out an easy
winner.

In the bar afterwards, Joe gave me a box of supplies and told me
what everything was for. I was a bit sceptical, but he was the expert
and it seemed worth a try.



At the weekend Laura and I had nothing planned, so we had a lazy
time, delighting in each other's company. If we ever split up
romantically, I hope we stay best friends because we enjoy each
other's company so much and I value her opinions. After dinner we
watched a romantic movie and we started to feel horny - by the end of
the movie my hands were in Laura's underwear and vice versa.

"I'd like to win our bet tonight, but it means you'll have to trust
me not to hurt you. Is that okay?" I asked her, "I'll stop anytime
you say"

I could see some doubt in her mind, but she couldn't resist the
challenge.

"Go for it, loser!" she grinned at me.

I cleared the table and covered it with towels.

"Clothes off and onto the table, missy," I ordered her.

This was definitely new for her, and I could feel her expectation as
she undressed, doing a striptease routine to wind me up. By the end,
my cock was painfully tenting my pants, but tonight was not its
night. She had to use a chair to get onto the table, and I arranged
her so that there was a thick wad of towelling under her hips. I
parted her labia and I could see glistening so I knew she was getting
turned on. I resisted testing her moistness with a finger because
that could have invalidated the challenge.

I opened the box that Joe had given me, and picked out a thin,
stainless-steel rod about 4 inches long.

"This is a urethral sound. I need to use it to find out how long
your urethra is."

I explained about the hygiene precautions, the sterilising solution,
the single-use sterile wipes, the single-use sterile gloves and the
anti-bacterial anti-fungal lube. Laura looked worried.

"Will it hurt?"

"It will sting a little next time you pee. Remember, you can back
out at any time."

I deliberately chose those words to challenge Laura and it worked.

"Okay then," she said, a bit doubtfully.

I went through the sterilisation procedures laid out by Joe, and
eventually I held the lubed sound in my gloved hand. I held the end
to Laura's pee-hole.

"Just relax, it won't hurt."

I was just as surprised as Laura as the sound slowly disappeared
inside her. Millimetre by millimetre, I took it as slowly as I could,
and as far as I could tell Laura was comfortable. Nearly two inches
in Laura winced, then a stream of pale liquid spurted past the sound
and out of Laura's pee-hole - the sound had reached Laura's bladder.
One and seven eighths of an inch! I gently removed the sound and the
pale liquid stopped as Laura regained control. The heady smell of
urine, soaking into the towels, added a frisson to the atmosphere.

"Are you okay?" I asked Laura.

"Yes. It stung a bit when I peed, but it's okay now."

I reached into Joe's box of tricks, and with a flourish I held up a
length of thin rubber tubing with a hand-pump at one end.

"And this, my dear, is your nemesis!"

I showed Laura that the non-pump end was stopped up so that nothing
could get through, then I treated it to the same sterilisation
procedures I had used on the sound. When it had been fully prepared,
I held the stopped-up end to Laura's pee-hole and gently pushed it
in. Just before one and three quarter inches I stopped, and gave the
pump a quick squeeze. Laura's eyes grew wide and her pupils dilated
at the sensation in her urethra. I released the pressure on the hand-
pump and the air whooshed out of the pump end of the tubing.

Joe had told me to experiment along the lines of several gentle
squeezes of the pump followed by a small number of strong squeezes. I
set up a rhythm of six gentle and three hard squeezes, and the effect
it had on Laura was dramatic. Her forehead creased, she started to
pant and she gripped the sides of the table firmly.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?"

"No," she replied in a throaty growl, "Don't stop."

Juices were dripping out of Laura's vagina, and her skin had
developed a pink flush. I increased the tempo.

"Oh God, oh God!" Laura gasped.

Laura's cunt-honey now formed a continuous stream, trickling down
her perineum, over the puckered pink portal I coveted so much, and
dripping onto the towels. I couldn't squeeze the pump any faster and
my hand was starting to tire. Suddenly Laura squealed and clenched
her thighs together as her rippling stomach muscles betrayed the
tremendous orgasm sweeping over her. I kept on squeezing for another
thirty seconds or so, until Laura's orgasm had died away, and she
could talk again.

"Shit, I guess I lost. What the hell was that all about?" she asked,
with a very satisfied smile on her face.

I told her about Joe. At first she was a bit pissed off that I had
discussed a private bet with a stranger, but after such an orgasm she
couldn't stay mad at me for long.

"The clitoris is a much larger organ than just the exposed nub, and
it wraps itself around the urethra. The walls of the rubber tube are
much thinner towards the end, so when air is squeezed in, the final
inch inflates like a minature sausage-shaped balloon. I was
masturbating your clitoris from within your urethra."

"You can do that to me any time you want, pardner!"

Then Laura pointed to the wet patch on the front of my pants. "I
guess you enjoyed it too, you pervert," she observed.

I had been so carried away with pleasuring Laura that I hadn't
noticed, but now I noticed the warm, sticky residue against my flaccid
cock.

When Laura tried to stand up afterwards, I had to hold her up as her
legs were trembling so much.



Laura kept her word and we had anal sex the next day. I had one of
the most powerful orgasms of my life as I thrust my cock into the
depths of Laura's tight, fiery virgin sheath, I spurted so much semen
into her secret recesses that my balls felt totally drained
afterwards. To her surprise, after some discomfort at the initial
penetration, Laura also enjoyed it, although she didn't cum until I
reached underneath her and played with her clit with my fingers.

We put two and two together, and now whenever we're feeling horny
and have plenty of time to spare, I fuck Laura's arse while using the
rubber tubing to masturbate her to massive urethral orgasms.

I haven't yet plucked up the courage to tell Laura what the foot
long stainless steel sound is for, and that the rubber tubing can
also be used for internal massage of the prostate! 
<1st attachment end>


<2nd attachment, "fninsidejob.txt" begin>

FOOTNOTE

Everyone knows about clitoral orgasms. G-Spot orgasms are a more
recent discovery, but relatively old news these days. Will urethral
orgasms next be in the spotlight?

You're over 18 (or you should be to read this story). Your body is
your own and you're free to test-drive it to whatever limits you
choose. I'm not going to tell you that you can't. But if you try to
re-enact the story, make sure that you're fully aware of all the
possible consequences and the necessary safety precautions. There's
no such thing as safe penetration of the bladder, not even by
experienced medical staff. There's a world shortage of replacement
kidneys, and that's one queue you don't want to join.
<2nd attachment end>


----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
Notice: This post has been modified from its original
format.  The post was sent as an email attachment and
has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software.
----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+