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Message-ID: <56118asstr$1182762602@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Andrew Jay <anc1iej@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} The 11th Notch on the Bedpost
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Date: Mon, 25 Jun 2007 05:10:02 -0400
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<1st attachment, "The 11th Notch on the Bedpost.txt" begin>

Copyright 2007 Andrew Jay all right reserved.  Intended for adults only. 
This text may be archived/reposted to free public access provided the
author's name, email anc1iej (at) hotmail .  com and this notice appear in
the message body.  This story may or may not be fictional in portion or
entirety; any resemblance to persons and events are subject to
discretionary interpretation by the reader.  No fee or service has ever
been provided to the author for this document, or for product placement.

   The 11th Notch on the Bedpost, by Andrew Jay

   Firstly, lets get a couple of things straight: The bedpost in question
is a metaphorical one, and you haven't missed parts 1 - 10.  Rather I have.
Something happened to me recently (see `The 5th Notch on the Bedpost') to
make me reconsider my life, and I have decided to commit some of the event
of my love life to writing.

   Stuff happened to me as a young man in the early nineties.  I had
relationships, some good, some bad, some indifferent.  But the `11th Notch'
as I will call the incident was one that I remember like it was yesterday.

   I should add that this really did happen to me, and I have used the real
first names of the main participants.  I am Andrew, and for those
interested, I am quite tall with short brown hair and very dark brown eyes.
This occurred back in the early/mid nineties when I was twenty.

   I first met her at a company barbeque - this was back in the days before
`personnel' became `human resources' remember, and companies cared rather
more about the wellbeing of their employees than they do now.  I had seen
her around the building, but we had worked on separate floors so I never
really got my chance to speak to her.  I didn't even know her name.

   I was munching on an overcooked burger, trying to shake off one of the
nerds from (Frank from the IT department).  Actually, we did become
friends, and I related this, and other incidents to him later.  Never the
less, he was cramping my style.  I had split up with my last girlfriend a
few weeks ago, and I was getting desperate for a lay.  At that moment, a
young woman from the Accounts department was being bothered by some wasps.

   Like superman, I sprang to her defence, bravely swishing at wasps
buzzing around her hair.  When that only served to make them more cross, I
suggested we run for it.  It was perhaps undignified, but running for the
shelter of a small pavilion seemed the best bet to me.  We made it and I
was able to speak to my distressed damsel.

   Her name was Jasmine and she was about my age.  She was quite tall and
willowy, with brown shoulder length hair, slim build and a reasonable rack
(sorry to female readers, but this is one of the first thing we men
notice). She told me she worked in accounts, and was training to be an
accountant.  I feigned a wasp sting, and she was putty in my hands - I had
rescued her from the evil wasps, and been injured in the attempt.  It was
only a matter of time...  Things went so well at first - we had a dinner
date, then another, then a trip to the cinema, but the truth was that I
wasn't actually getting very far.  I had lavished flowers, perfumes, cuddly
toys and anything else I could think of to get into her knickers, but so
far to no avail.  I had had a few kisses, but not even got a feel yet.  The
truth was I was getting bored with her, so it was with some relief that she
finally invited me back to her house where she still lived with her parents
and sister.

   That first visit to her house was a strange one.  We arrived after a
night at the cinema.  She let me in and introduced me to her mum (who was
decidedly the worse for wear by the way), then to her sister.  Only her
sister was `her': Same face, same build, same everything, except she had
her hair was clipped up and she was wearing small but thick glasses.  She
had her nose in a book, and barely looked up at me.  `You are...' I
stumbled to Jasmine `Yes, Einstein.  Identical twins.  This is my sister
Rose.  I am the oldest' she seemed quite smug with this, but Rose barely
acknowledged the comment..

   Jasmine led me upstairs, and we shared our first night of passion.  As
the title of this document might suggest, Jasmine was not my first by quite
a long way.  Compared to some of the others, she was ok, but not honestly
that amazing - she had a tendency to do what made her feel good, but not
what felt good only to me.  We made love fairly regularly after that for
the next few weeks, mostly at my flat, but there was no spark between us
and I had pretty much decided to dump her.  This story is not about
Jasmine, however.

   `One more farewell fuck, then dump her' I had thought to myself.  I had
given up with the gifts by now, and I had the feeling that I was going to
get dumped myself soon anyway.  She had called earlier and asked me to pick
her up from her parents house, so I called in at 7pm as she had requested.

   Jasmine let me in and asked me to wait while she went to the toilet.  I
sat down in the living room.  Her mother was asleep in one arm chair.  Rose
had her nose in her book (she had barely spoken to me since I first saw
her).  I had nothing else to amuse me, so I covertly watched her.  She
lifted her glasses and rubbed her eyes, then returned to her book.  She
seemed to be struggling with it.

   Jasmine came back and asked that we went back to my flat.  This was good
- I wouldn't have to go to the expense of feeding her before I had my
farewell screw.  This might seem callous, but I didn't earn a great deal
back then and having a high maintenance girlfriend could be a real drain on
my resources.

   She was quiet in the car.  She was wearing a fairly short skirt, so I
stroked the inside of her leg as I drove.  She liked that and would usually
spread her legs a little so I could slip a finger inside her.  This time
she twitched a little, but then relaxed.  Eventually she allowed my hand to
go higher up her skirt until it was grazing her panty clad pussy, but that
was as far as I could get.  I was a bit concerned - it wasn't like I had
never done this to her before...  Something was nagging at me, and I
couldn't work out what it was.

   We got back to my flat, and she followed me in.  `Make love to me' she
told me.  What was it about her?

   As I was going to dump her tomorrow, I thought I had better make it
convincing, so I looked deep into her eyes.  She looked mistily back. 
Mistily?  She never looked at me mistily before.  Ravenously maybe.  Not
mistily.  I kissed her deeply.  She could still surprise me but sucking on
my tongue in a way she never had before.

   Then it hit me.  The truth.

   It wasn't Jasmine.

   I was gawping at her I think.  My hand was under her blouse (almost
unconsciously), but it was Rose I was staring at with my mouth open. 
`What's the matter' she asked nervously.  `Nothing' I replied after a
second.

   I resumed my kiss and started unbuttoning her blouse.  She was really
very similar to Jasmine - her breasts were the same size, her areola had
similar colouring and her nipples felt the same in my mouth.  She helped me
out of my clothes and soon we were naked.  There were no other clues that
this was Rose and not Jasmine her brown bush of pubes seemed to be trimmed
in exactly the same way.

   `Suck me again.  You were amazing last time' I asked.  In truth, I had
almost had to beg Jasmine to suck me off, and it lasted for all of about 10
seconds.  Rose however, didn't know this.  She hesitated for a second then
got to work on my hard-on.  It wasn't expert, but it was nice.

   Watching her bob up and down on my cock gave me time to think things
through.  Jasmine and Rose had swapped places for whatever reason.  Rose
was sucking my cock now because she thought that was what Jasmine did.  I
let a tiny grin creep onto my lips.

   `Lets do it without a condom again' This girl was so suggestible!  She
wasn't in a position to argue or back out now, so with a nervous look she
came with me to the bed where we started to fuck.  A first fuck with
someone new is always special, and she would have to have been the best
actress in the world to hide the feeling of having a new man enter her. 
She did her best however, and so our little charade continued.

   As I mentioned, this was not my first sexual experience, so I had
learned a measure of self control.  I managed to refrain from emptying my
balls into her.  I had a plan.

   `I want to come in your bottom again.  You were so into it last time' I
said.  Of course, that hadn't happened last time, or any other time.  Truth
be told, I had never had anal sex before.  But Rose didn't know that -
Jasmine had evidently failed to mention that aspect of our sexual routine
to her.  I wondered if Rose was going to spill the beans, but after a
moment she went along with it.

   I grabbed some lube from a drawer, and squirted some on my already slick
penis.  `Go doggy style again' I told her.  She did as I suggested.  I had
the opportunity to finger fuck her wet pussy whilst I teased at her bum
hole.  I smeared a little lube around her hole, then rubbed in circles
around it with my finger.  Her anus twitched at my touch, then settled
down. She was as ready as she was going to be.

   I gently pushed the head of my knob into her.  I pushed some more, but
nothing happened, then suddenly she let out a gasp as the tip of my
erection popped inside her hole.  `You ok?' I asked her.  `Yes', she
huskily replied.

   I took it slow.  Rose could only blame herself for being in this
position, but that didn't mean I wanted to hurt her.  I was about halfway
in when I noticed she was starting to push back against me - this was my
queue to go faster and I plunged my remaining length into her bottom.  With
my full length inside her, I looked at her.  The ring of her anus was pink
and stretched looking around my penis.  That couldn't be helped.  I started
to fuck her with long smooth strokes.  With every thrust she cried out,
possibly in pain at first, but as we went on, she was saying `yes... 
yes....'.  I eventually emptied my semen into her bowels.  Perhaps my
fingers in her pussy were helping, but she climaxed with me, pushing the
tip of my still spurting cock even deeper into her.

   Finally spent, I slipped from her, bringing out sperm, a little blood
and goodness knows what else.  There is a reason why they say anal sex is
dirty.

   Rose rolled over and kissed me deeply before she drifted off to sleep
with me for a couple of hours.  Afterwards we wordlessly dressed and I
dropped her back home.

   The next day, I was back at work.  I had a call from Jasmine to meet me
in one of the fire escape stairwells.  These were public areas, but no-one
ever went there, so we had some privacy.

   `Hi Jasmine' I said, breezily.  She turned, and gave me a slap so hard
my face tingled.  `You fucked my sister up the arse, you bastard!' `I
fucked you up the arse, and it was wonderful' I said, in a mocking tone. 
`In fact it was the best blowjob, and the best fuck I have had from you as
well' She went to slap me again, but I was ready this time and caught her
wrist.  `Don't you ever speak to me or my sister again' she ordered.

   I had no intention of doing either, but two days later, I had a call
from Rose.  `Hello, Andrew?  Its Rose.  I wondered if we could....  do what
we did a couple of nights ago' she asked.

   Rose turned out to be an almost perfect girlfriend.  She didn't want
flowers, or chocolates or perfume, or meals or cinema.  She didn't want
meaningful conversations, and she didn't mind if I saw someone else.  She
wanted sex.  Hard, rough, anal sex.

   I asked her about what went on with Jasmine, and she explained that she
had been shy and could never get a boyfriend.  Jasmine on the other hand
could get a boyfriend whenever she wanted one, so when Jasmine had finished
with her latest partner, she had got into the habit of trading clothes and
hairstyles with Rose for the evening in order to foist the unsuspecting
boyfriend on her, at least for one night.  Usually a short briefing about
the boy was sufficient to carry off the subterfuge.  I had been the first
one to guess what was happening.

   I have kept seeing Rose on and off since that time.  She eventually
found herself a boyfriend, married him, and had a couple of kids.  He was a
good man, but rather unadventurous in bed, so when she needed something
extra, she called on me.  By `something extra' I mean that she wanted anal
sex with me.  Once I have emptied my load in her, she would always return
to her happy family, looking after her kids or making love with her
husband, with the knowledge that it is my semen seeping out of her bottom
while she did it.  

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