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Subject: {ASSM} Lusting after Michiko - Pt. 1 (Fsolo)
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Date: Thu, 18 Jan 2007 12:10:05 -0500
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Lusting after Michiko
Part One

Michiko stepped into the elevator. She pushed the
button for the sixteenth floor and heard the doors
slide shut behind her. A quick glance in the mirror
assured her that yes, she was looking good. She felt
tired, but she was looking pretty good.

Michiko was a rather tall woman with distinctly
Asian features. She was thin and dressed in tight-
fitting clothes that emphasized her figure. Chic,
but still in a subdued sort of way.

The elevator stopped at the sixteenth floor and the
doors slid open. Michiko walked out, heading for her
apartment. Her heels clicked on the wooden floors as
she walked briskly down the hallway. She picked the
keys from her handbag and sighed. Again, she was
home from work late. She loved her job at the ad
agency, but sometimes things got just a little bit
hectic.

Michiko stopped in front of her apartment door. But
just before she put the key in the lock she
hesitated.

Someone had placed a bouquet of flowers there,
leaning against her door. Quite a big bunch of
mostly white and orange flowers, wrapped in plastic
with a red ribbon around them. She looked for a
card, but there wasn't one.

And then she saw the stains. At first she thought it
was water. That water from the flowers had somehow
sprayed onto the door. But upon closer inspection
that couldn't be it. The stains were sticky and
opaque with a whitish colour.

Michiko looked up and down the hallway. No one was
there. Quickly, she dipped her finger in one of the
stains and put it to her tongue, tasting it.

No! It couldn't be!

She recognized the taste immediately. But she almost
refused to believe it. She unlocked the door and
went in, leaving the flowers on the doorstep.

Then she collapsed in her sofa, the salty taste of
the spot still on her tongue.

Semen. It had to be. Maybe Michiko hadn't had as
much experience with fellatio as some of her
friends, but she did know what it tasted like when a
man came in her mouth.

And the way the stains had formed a random pattern
halfway up her door could lead to only one
conclusion: Some guy had masturbated in front of her
apartment, shooting his sperm over her door. And
this on the same day some anonymous admirer brought
her flowers.

Or - and this thought really made her head spin -
could it have been the same guy? Some nutcase with a
crush on her who couldn't distinguish courtship from
raw sex? She'd met a lot of white guys with a
serious fetish for Asian girls, but usually they
were really very sweet.

Also, it couldn't be just anyone.

Michiko stood up and got herself a shot of vodka,
then sat down again. No, it couldn't be anyone. The
front door was always locked and the doorman didn't
let just anybody in. In other words, it had to be
someone from her building.

She thought for a while. But she didn't know too
many of the other residents. She mostly met those
who lived on her own floor, like old Mrs. Simmons
next door. She'd also noticed a young black couple
living down the hall. But she imagined it was more
likely to be a single guy. And there were no single
guys on this floor.

Well, there was the guy in the apartment opposite
hers. But he was 55 or something, with greying hair,
and he seemed really nice. He certainly wasn't a
nutcase. It had to be someone from another floor.
Which left her with no clues at all.

Michiko switched on her TV to some stupid game show
and finished the vodka. She decided to take the
flowers in anyway and put them in a vase on her
dining room table. Then, she poured herself another
vodka.

She couldn't concentrate on the game show at all.
She began wondering how he'd done it. Never mind who
he was - the whole situation was just so bizarre.
Did he really walk to her door, put the flowers
down, then unzip, whip out his cock and masturbate
until he ejaculated all over her door? Wouldn't he
be afraid to be seen?

Sipping her vodka, she started imagining his cock.
Someone so shameless and unafraid had to have quite
a powerful erection. Maybe his cock was rather big,
too.

Michiko unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them down.
Her right hand reached into her panties. Her
vibrator was in a drawer in the nightstand, but she
couldn't be bothered to get it. In fact, she
wouldn't need it - she could feel how wet she
already was. Michiko's fingers found her clit and
gently began massaging it.

The game show droned on, but she didn't hear a word.
She imagined a strange man, dressed in dirty, old
leather clothes standing in front of her door. She
imagined him unzipping, pulling out a long, stiff
cock.

Michiko closed her eyes, masturbating to her vision.
She saw the man grabbing his cock in his fist. Clear
fluid dripped from the tiny opening on its tip. And
slowly, he began stroking it. She saw the bluish
head of his cock bulging, as he masturbated.

She felt her juices flowing over her fingers and
threw her head back on the couch, gasping. In her
arousal, her sense of reality began to dissolve. And
as she imagined the strange man masturbating, it was
as if he was fucking her, too. With each stroke of
his hand, she felt his long cock entering her pussy.
He was inside her now. He was standing by her door,
jerking off, but he was also inside her.

This is what he is fantasizing about, Michiko
thought in her state of sexual delirium. As he
masturbates, he imagines that he's fucking me. And
I'm picking up his fantasies. He's feeding his
dreams into my mind. He's raping my brain...

Michiko's fingers furiously masturbated her clit.
And finally her body trembled with an explosion of
violent pleasure:

"Oh! Oh!"

Michiko's cries of orgasm drowned out the sound of
the game show. She came hard, imagining the stranger
ejaculating all over her door - as well as deep
inside her cunt. For a moment, she almost felt the
hardness of his cock, contracting inside her,
pumping his hot, sticky semen into her. Then, the
orgasm faded, and she drifted back to reality: She
lay alone on her couch as the game show paused for
commercials, a warm wave of satisfaction washing
over her, releasing every tension.

The sweet smell of the flowers slowly filled the
room.

Michiko turned off the TV and went to bed.

--
(c) bonfils 2007
http://storiesonline.net/auth/bonfils

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