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Message-ID: <63255asstr$1423833002@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "J'onn J'onzz" <mstrhole@gmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} David Donaldson Chronicles Chapter 1
Lines: 917
Date: Fri, 13 Feb 2015 08:10:02 -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

Please Post

While I wait for the next chapter of Life of the Mainwarings to manifest
itself to me, I offer a repackaging of a series I started a couple of years
back and posted to my blog and on Literotica under the "MASTERPC" title.
The story came about because when I wrote my original MasterPC story (which
became part 2 of the Jimmy Olsen Saga), I actually wrote it two different
ways.  Later, after finishing one MasterPC story, I went back to it.  My
original intent was to write a series of short stories that weren't
necessarily linked by anything accept the techno magic aspect of MasterPC
and the main character, David Donaldson.  It ended up being 14 loosely
connected stories with recurring characters in the later chapters.

Feedback welcome at mstrhole@NOSPAMgmail.com


*...all ideologies are totalitarian. *--* Raoul Vaneigem*
<1st attachment, "David Donaldson Chronicles Chapter 1.txt" begin>

Whenever he visited a city, David's habit was to be sure to visit every
used book and music store his spare time allowed.  He loved books.  His
collection filled a room in his home - and those were just his favorites.
Other books were stored in boxes in the basement.  He also liked music and
was always on the lookout for old, hard to find, LP's.

   If it wasn't for David's habit, this story would not exist.

   It was a Wednesday.  A weak late winter sun was shining; it's light
imperfectly reflected by the dirty snow lining the streets and sidewalks in
jagged ridges.  The pan handlers were out in force on State Street - some
of them playing instruments, others just making noise with change in
plastic cups.  He'd seen them before.  He ignored them.  He was headed for
a used book store he liked to visit whenever he was in town.

   The bell jingled as he walked in.

   "Mind if I just smell the books," he said to the clerk behind the
counter, smiling.

   "Not at all.  Please do," she said.  She recognized him from his
previous visits and knew he would never come in merely for the distinctive
odor of old paper and mildew.  He would leave with a bag full of books.

   David wandered up and down the stacks with no particular goal in mind.
He really did like the smell and texture of real books.  E-books were
distasteful to him.  He paused before a collection of the works of Rafael
Sabatini looking for a volume that wasn't already part of his collection.
He spotted one that didn't look familiar.  "The Kings Minion," he said to
himself, "I don't recall reading this one."

   He grasped the black cover and pulled the volume off the shelf, and as
he did his whole life was changed.  There was a CDROM tucked inside the
book - no jewel case.  He noticed it because it started to slip out from
between the book's musty old pages.

   Catching the disk in his other hand, he examined it.  There was writing
on it - someone had labeled the disk with a Sharpie (TM).

   "Master PC," he read.  "Hold on.  Where have I seen THIS before," he
murmured to himself.  And then it dawned on him - the reason it looked
familiar.

   "Oh, come on," he said, not believing that what he was looking at could
possibly be what it seemed.  "That's just a story on the `net.  I suppose
someone's just put this here as a joke.  Well, I'll take it home and see
what it really is.  Probably someone's porno collection."

   Still, the possibility that it MIGHT be real was enough to distract him
from his search through the stacks.  He pocketed the CDROM, paid for the
book, and directed his footsteps back to the Doubletree, where his laptop
sat sleeping on the desk.  He had a few hours to kill; that was why he'd
been strolling up and down State Street to begin with.  Gaining the privacy
of his room, David threw his hat, coat, gloves, and suit jacket on the bed,
and woke up his old laptop.  He inserted the disc and waited.  He heard the
CDROM drive spin up to speed as the autorun sequence began.  When the
prompt asked if he wanted to install MasterPC, he answered yes, and waited.
The screen went blank for a few seconds - it seemed longer than that to
him. When his desktop returned, a message box containing the words
"installation complete" appeared and he noticed a new icon on the desktop.
He double-clicked it and a small 3-D logo "Master PC" popped up and an
audio file began to play as other words scrolled across the screen.

   "Welcome to the Master Command Center...  where the Master allows you to
become a virtual god to the people around you...  Now, you possess the
power to bend their reality to your specifications.  You are the Master's
representative."

   The logo disappeared and a prompt appeared asking for his name.  He
typed it in.  Now, he was prompted for a subject.

   "Hmmm..." he thought, trying to remember how the JR Parz stories said
this thing worked.  He typed in the name of a co-worker in the local
office; someone he regarded as a friend.  His pulse began to race as a 3-D
image of the woman appeared on his screen, wearing the exact same clothing
he'd seen her in just that morning.  Her image revolved slowly on the
screen.  She was standing at attention, arms at her sides.

   He chose "command center" from the menu strip at the top of the screen.
`Whatever you enter, the subject will immediately feel or become after
pressing the 'send' button' appeared on the screen along with a box to type
in the information or command desired.

   David knew his friend had been struggling to quit smoking.  So he typed
in "You will stop craving nicotine from this moment forward.  The taste of
tobacco will make you slightly nauseated and you will never smoke a
cigarette again as long as you live." Then he typed "send." While he was at
it, he typed in some commands that would reverse the damage that smoking
had done to her lungs and vascular system over the years; he also gave her
an increased desire to work out, and better discipline about food.  When he
was done, he clicked "send" again.

   Back at the main menu, he decided to conduct a test to see if any of
this actually worked.  Typing in his own name he brought up a 3-D image of
himself and went to work.  David was very overweight.  It was tempting to
type in the command that would transform him back to the body he'd had as
an 18 year old; tempting but not practical.  Instead he gave himself some
discipline about food, removed his distaste for fish ("if it swims for a
living I don't eat it" had been his motto), and gave himself the will to
become physically fit.  Of course, he gave himself a higher metabolism -
that ought to help with the weight, he thought to himself as he typed in
the command.  He knew these changes would take a while to be felt, so he
decided to try something else.

   Being male, David was, of course, somewhat obsessive about the size of
his penis.  He felt that he'd been shorted in that department and resolved
to do something about it.  So, he typed in a command that would cause his
penis to increase in length to 10 inches with substantial girth as well and
clicked "send." Instantly he felt a tingling in his groin and some
discomfort in his shorts.  He got up and dropped his slacks and underwear.

   "Holy ....!" He stared into the mirror at the long, thick, stalk hanging
below his balls.  He laughed - laughed so hard that tears ran down his
face. Almost tentatively he reached down and grasped his new endowment,
gently stroking it.  He closed his eyes and continued touching himself. 
His new cock quickly stiffened in his hand.  He looked down and saw, for
the first time in years, a cock protruding from below his belly.  He hadn't
seen his dick in anything but a mirror in quite a while.  It was long and
thick and hard and he felt it throb in his fist.  He could do some serious
damage with a cock like this.  He shook his head as if shooing a fly and
got himself back under control.  David had work to do.

   He began to make other modifications.  He gave himself another 50 points
of I.Q.  (his measured intelligence quotient had already been measured at
over 150 - now it was over 200), improved his strength, reflexes, stamina,
and immune system.  He also corrected his eye sight (he'd worn glasses
since the 9th grade), fixed a hearing problem in his left ear, healed a
voice box damaged by years of undiagnosed acid reflux (which he also took
care of), cured his sleep apnea, induced hair re-growth on his head,
stopped his ear hair and eyebrows from growing so fast, got rid of some
skin tags, and made a few other minor modifications.  He clicked "send"
again.

   David felt the changes course through him - a tingling sensation started
at his toes and worked its way up his entire body to the top of his head.
He literally "felt" smarter.  Problems that had seemed insoluble just hours
ago suddenly had solutions.  A new sense of energy and purpose flowed
through his mind and body like an endorphin rush times 10.

   More modification ideas flowed through his newly energized brain.  His
immune system would be proof against any disease; his powers of healing
would be remarkable, regardless of the injury; his flesh would not age at
the rate that everyone else's did; and his skin and muscle tissue would, in
a matter of weeks, return to the tone and health of his youth.  In terms of
age, he would be 20 years old again, even though he would continue to
appear to be a man in his mid-fifties.  And, still, he had work to do.

   David pulled a yellow legal pad toward him and began to make task lists
and notes about things he needed to do.  He made several phone calls to set
certain plans in motion, sent a batch of e-mails flying through cyberspace.
In a matter of a quarter of an hour he'd accomplished more than he had done
for the past day and a half.

   Getting up from the desk he decided to go for a walk.  He quickly
changed into something more comfortable, put on his Brooks Addiction (TM)
walking shoes, added a red baseball cap with a white "W" logo on the front,
and headed out into the sunshine of, what was for David, a new day.  The
temperature was in the mid 20's but he paid it no mind.

   David's brain was working furiously as his body was getting some much
needed exercise.  He'd acquired a new source of power and knew that in
order to exercise it properly he'd need a plan.  At 57 he'd been giving
some thought to retirement.  Two things held him back.  One was the
possibility that he might be promoted to the position he sought within his
organization.  The other was financial.  He really needed three more years
to make his retirement secure.

   Now, however, he saw other possibilities.  With his new found
intelligence and his more than three decades of experience in his field,
why not hang out his shingle as a consultant?  Why not indeed?  Before he
knew it, David had walked up State all the way to the Capitol Building,
around the square, and half way down the hill on East Washington.

   He stopped, suddenly, taking in his surroundings.  "I'm not even
sweating," David said to himself with some surprise.  Normally, assuming
he'd have actually walked this distance, he'd have been dripping even in
the subfreezing temperatures.  Now, all he felt was the healthy glow of
good exercise and clean air in the lungs.  David turned around and walked
back, taking a shortcut through the Capitol and back down the hill to the
hotel.

   A quick shower and a change of clothing and David was ready to resume
his meetings.  He didn't really fully return, however.  One part of his
mind dealt with his colleagues while the other was drawing up a new plan
for his life.

   One thing that occupied his mind was his cock.  His new "package" was
always at the forefront of his awareness.  He felt its weight, he felt its
size, he felt the joy of possibility.  The meeting broke up around half
past four and he turned aside offers from co-workers to have dinner.  He
wanted to get back to his room as quickly as possible and try a few things.

   Fifteen minutes later he was sitting at his laptop again staring at his
own image on the Master PC console.  This time his modifications were all
of a sexual nature.  He gave himself a whole clip of extra stamina, lots of
sexual staying power, and absolute control over his own orgasms.  He
increased the size of his load; "eat your heart out Peter North," he
chuckled.  He made his whole body more sensitive to sexual touching and
increased his ability to enjoy sex.  While he was at it he added another 50
points to his already high I.Q.

   David minimized the Master PC program to his task bar and then opened
his web browser.  Logging into his Adult Friend Finder account he looked
for a likely sex partner.  He'd been a member of AFF for several years and
had never scored a single woman or couple from the site.  That wasn't too
hard to figure out though, as the market for fat middle aged white men with
smallish equipment was not bullish.

   Now, however, David was armed with something extra - a big dick for
starters - and he approached his task with anticipation.  His new manhood
was erect and throbbing.  David absently rubbed it through his shorts. 
Taking out his digital camera and getting out the ruler from his Day
Planner (TM), David dropped his shorts and laid his impressive manhood on
the desk next to the ruler.  He snapped a photo of his new equipment and
then quickly uploaded it to his account.  He deleted all of the pictures
showing how fat he was ("that's going to change pretty soon anyway") and
left only the picture of his lips, which looked fairly sensual, and his
cock, which looked fairly impressive.

   Then he began to search for a likely candidate for his first real
experiment in using the Master PC to get what he wanted from someone else.
He scrolled through a list of possibilities - women of a certain age and
marital status who wanted to meet an intelligent, witty, charming man for a
little NSA fun on the side.

   "That one, I think," he said to himself.

   His intended sex partner was a woman of almost his own age.  Married but
looking for a little something extra with no emotional entanglements. 
David speculated that she got a lot of mail on the site.  Her photos
revealed a very well kept body for a woman of more than five decades in
age, and her profile suggested that she had the right combination of
intelligence and good humor that he himself possessed in good measure.

   He sent her a note proposing that he buy her dinner at the Tornado.  It
was an old fashioned steak house in the heart of downtown just off the
Square and also had the advantage of being very dark.  It would be easy to
get a very private table in a dark corner.

   He told her a bit about himself and, without being crude, suggested that
he not only had full sized equipment but he also knew what to do with it.
He gave her his name and a cell phone number and told her to call if she
was at all interested.

   This last bit was a gamble, but a reasonable one.  The number was from a
disposable phone that he had purchased for the purpose of being able to
call his internet girlfriend in Colorado whenever he wanted without
worrying about a bill showing up later.  In this case, it provided some
protection from the risk he'd taken.  He'd enclosed a face picture to
demonstrate his seriousness.

   Now, he would have to wait.

   He browsed AFF for a while, switched over to Out Personals, checked a
few things there, went through his various e-mail accounts, responded to
some messages from friends around the country, and then he went back to AFF
one more time before shutting down the laptop for the day.

   There was a reply to his e-mail.

   "Hi, David, I'm Darla, and your offer is very tempting.  My husband is
out of town for the week and I have no plans for the evening.  We just
moved here recently, so I don't know anything about the Tornado, but it
sounds lovely.  I realize this is kind of sudden and rather risky on my
part - after all you could be a serial killer (lol) - but I've got a good
feeling that we'll click.  So, if you'll write back and let me know how to
get to the Tornado and what time you'd like to meet, I'll take you up on
your offer."

   David grinned as he finished reading, then he went to work.  First, he
made a map of downtown for Darla showing the location of the Tornado.  Then
he called the steak house and reserved a table for 6:30.  He sent the map
along with his note expressing great pleasure in Darla's acceptance of his
invitation through AFF and then began to prepare for what he hoped would be
a fun evening.

   First, he put Darla's name into the Master PC program and adjusted her
viewpoint on overweight men.  He didn't give her unnatural attraction to
fat guys; he just created a situation in her mind where body size and shape
was not an issue.  He had a big fat dick and that would be all that
mattered to Darla when the clothes came off.  And, that was it.  No mental
slavery, no secret words, and no post hypnotic suggestions - he'd use his
charm, wit, intelligence, and humor to convince her he'd be just as much
fun in bed as he could be out of it.

   By six o'clock, freshly shaved and showered (again), wearing a very nice
sincere blue wool suit with a pink shirt, silver paisley tie and matching
pocket square, David was sitting at the bar of the Tornado enjoying his
first Cosmopolitan of the evening.  He was savoring the initial sip when he
felt a disturbance in the air around him as the door opened from the
street. He turned and there she was.

   "David?"

   "Darla," David said, standing up and going to her.  He took her hands in
his and smiled at her.  He kissed her on the cheek, capturing a sample of
her subtle yet sensual perfume.  "You're even prettier than your pictures."

   She almost blushed.  But not quite.  She was a woman used to the
compliments of men.

   "Thank you," she said, allowing herself to be led to a booth across from
the bar.  He set his drink down and then helped her off with her coat.  She
was wearing a black sheath dress with a strand of pearls at her throat. 
The dress showed off her body to good effect without being slutty.  Her
long legs were encased in sheer black hose.  She was wearing a pair of
black "fuck me" pumps.  He smiled.

   "Something to drink, Darla?"

   "White wine would be nice, please."

   David went to the bar and ordered a glass of wine, also telling the bar
tender that he and his companion would be ready for their table whenever it
was available.

   "Here you go," David said, placing the glass of wine on a napkin in
front of Darla.  He sat down in the booth across from her and lifted his
glass.

   "Success to crime," he said.  She laughed and clinked his glass with
hers.

   "Where did THAT come from," Darla asked.

   "I read too many Spenser novels," he replied.

   "Do you read a lot?"

   "Incessently.  I have a book in my pocket right now - I never go
anywhere without one."

   "May I see it?"

   "Of course," David said, smiling, as he reached into his jacket pocket
and took out a copy of Terry Pratchett's "Moving Pictures."

   "You weren't kidding," Darla said, smiling.  "I like to read, but I
mostly read non-fiction - biographies, history, politics - that sort of
thing."

   They discussed books they'd read, plays they'd seen, movies and music
they liked - no politics or religion, of course - and their conversation
would probably have gone on like that for some time if the hostess hadn't
come and announced that their table was ready.

   The Tornado is old.  Old fashioned compared to a modern steak house. 
The lighting is dim, and the tables aren't squeezed together so tightly
that you can't have a private conversation.  At his request (along with a
20 for the hostess), they were seated in a corner of the dining room, well
away from other customers, and a majority of the light in that part of the
room came from a candle in the middle of the table.

   David held Darla's chair for her and then took his own seat opposite.

   "A gentleman," Darla said, smiling.

   "Not always," David said, smiling back at her.  Darla raised an eyebrow.

   "So, David, tell me something," she started, paused, and then having
made a decision of some sort, went on, "what are you doing on AFF?"

   "Same thing you are, Darla," David responded, smiling what his father
would have called a manure masticating grin.

   "I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Darla replied, looking down in a
mockery of the term "demure."

   They both laughed and the ice was broken.  They traded marital stories,
which were fairly similar.  They ordered a meal and a bottle of wine for
Darla - David had another cosmo.  They talked.  The food came.  They talked
some more.  Both passed on the dessert cart, although Darla looked
wistfully at the chocolate suicide cake.

   David charmed her with stories - he'd always been a good story teller -
over coffee until at last came the moment of truth.  David put his hands,
palm upward, on the table.  Darla looked at them for a moment and then
placed her hands over his.  David looked into Darla's eyes and saw both
invitation and trepidation.

   "Darla, I've really enjoyed meeting you and I'd like to get to know you
better.  But I can't do that sitting in this steak house, regardless of how
dimly lit this corner is.  I'd like you to come back to my hotel with me. I
believe I can give you what you came to AFF for in the first place.  I'm of
an age where beating around the bush seems like a waste of time, so pardon
me if I seem a little too direct."

   For a moment, he believed that he was about to go down in flames.  But,
then, a slow smile appeared on Darla's face and she squeezed his hands in
hers.

   "You know, David, it's really refreshing to meet a man who's not all
`what do you want to do, Darla,' `what do you like, Darla,' - god that
passive aggressive thing drives me crazy.  David, I find you very
attractive for some reason and I'd love to come back to your room with
you."

   "Good."

   David signaled for the check, which he paid.  He pulled out Darla's
chair for her and helped her into her coat.  Then he took her arm and they
went out the door and into the street.

   "Where's your car?" he asked.

   "I took a cab.  I get lost every time I try to drive downtown and I
didn't want to be late."

   "Good idea."

   They walked arm in arm to the parking garage just down the block where
his car was parked.  He opened the passenger side door of his 05 Deville
and helped Darla in.  Then he went around and got in behind the wheel.

   Darla pushed up the arm rest and slid over close to him on the split
bench seat.  "Before we go back to your hotel, I need to do something."

   He turned to face her.  She took his head in her hands and pulled his
mouth down to hers for a kiss.  She was a good kisser.  So was he.  The
kiss lasted for about a minute.

   "Do I pass," he asked quietly, smiling.

   "Mmmm...with flying colors.  If you do other things as well as you kiss
this is going to be a great night for both of us."

   "Then let's get going," he said, chuckling.

   "We'd be fools not to," Darla replied.

   Five minutes later they were in the elevator heading up to his room on
the fifth floor.  He put his arms around her and kissed her again.  He
kissed her thoroughly, deeply, and passionately.  By the time the doors
opened, she was moaning and pressing her body against him.

   They walked quickly down the hallway and he opened the door.  She went
in first.  He followed and set the security locks behind him.  When he
turned, Darla already had her coat off and was pulling her dress over her
head.  She stood before him in pantyhose, a bra, and her high heeled pumps.
Her body was everything the black dress had promised.  Her large breasts
were barely encased by her bra.  Her long legs were shapely and nicely
displayed in sheer black silk.

   She was wearing a grin that would have looked good on a shark
contemplating a school of mackerel.

   "I want to know something."

   "What would you like to know, Darla?"

   "I want to know if that ruler picture was real or fake."

   "Only one way to find out."

   Darla stepped to him and began to undo his pants while he divested
himself of jacket and tie, not bothering to hang anything up.  By the time
he started unbuttoning his shirt, Darla had his pants around his ankles and
was pulling his underwear carefully over the bulge beneath the silky
fabric.

   One hand went deftly inside the shorts while the other pulled the
waistband away from his belly (which she seemed not to notice at all).  Her
eyes were gleaming in the light from the desk lamp - the only light he'd
left on when he left the room several hours earlier.  Her hand found his
cock and she lifted it free of his black silk shorts.

   "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," she gasped.  "You weren't kidding."

   Without waiting for an invitation she popped the head of his mighty
missile into her mouth and began to lick and suck on it.  She couldn't get
more than the first third of it in her mouth at first but it wasn't for
lack of trying.

   "Easy Darla.  Easy - take your time," David said, laughing.  "Help me
get out of the rest of this rig before I fall over,"

   Darla reluctantly released his cock, giving it a long smoldering look as
she did so, and helped him get out of his pants, shoes, socks, and undies.
Soon, he was naked in front of her, his cock jutting out proudly like the
bow spirit of a clipper ship.

   "One of us is over dressed," he said, in a low voice.

   Stepping away from the pile of clothing at his feet, David lifted Darla
to her feet and reached around her with one hand, unfastening her bra. 
Then he took her in his arms and kissed her again, feeling her tits against
his chest and grabbing two handfuls of her pantyhose covered ass.  Her arms
went around him as their kiss deepened.

   "David, please," Darla gasped as the kiss broke, "fuck me.  Fuck me
right the hell now."

   He looked down into her face (not too far down - in her heels she was
nearly as tall as he was) with a wry grin and said, "what, no foreplay?"

   She punched him in the arm and then broke the embrace.  Darla quickly
moved to the bed and nearly tore her pantyhose off in her haste to be
naked. Her shoes went flying and the pantyhose were soon a puddle of silk
on the floor.

   "Don't take off the panties yet," David asked as Darla reached for the
thin strand of fabric that did duty for a waistband of the thong she wore.
"Turn around for me.  I want to see you."

   Darla stood and put her hands on her cocked hips.  David whistled
through his teeth.  "Turn for me, baby.  Show me what you've got," he
whispered.

   Slowly, Darla turned completely around, looking over her shoulder as her
back faced him.  "Are you looking at my bum," she asked in a fake British
accent.

   "Looking?  No.  Staring?  Yes.  And, I think we'll toss in ogling for
good measure."

   David walked up to her and tossed Darla onto the bed.  He reached down
and practically tore the thong from her body before joining her.

   "On your knees, Darla.  I want you from behind."

   "Ooooo...doggie is my favorite position.  Give it to me David.  Give me
that big dick."

   Darla was quickly on her knees, her ass pointed directly at the object
of her lust.  David worked his way up behind her, staring at the junction
of her thighs where her sex glistened with the dew of desire, the lips of
her flower opening and closing like a mare in heat.  He gripped his cock in
one hand and put his other on her hip for balance.  Placing the head of his
cock against Darla's pussy lips he rubbed up and down her slit, lubricating
his dick with her pussy cream.

   She moaned as she felt the head of his mighty truncheon begin to invade
her pussy portal and she gasped as the mushroom cap slipped inside of her.

   "Oh my god...that thing is huge," she gasped as more and more of his
meat pushed her flesh aside to make room for itself.

   David had never experienced anything like this in his life.  Darla's
pussy was a boiling cauldron of lust, and it was like a velvet vise around
his new and improved manhood.  He pushed it into her slowly - he wanted to
savor the sensation and he didn't want to hurt her.  She was moaning
constantly as she felt the invasion continue.

   "Push back against me baby," David said.

   Darla didn't respond verbally, but she pushed her hips back against him
until she'd taken all the cock she could for now.  There was still about
three inches left to go.

   "Fuck me," he said.

   Darla began to rock her hips, impaling herself on his spear and then
releasing it.  Each time she went a little deeper - just fractions of an
inch - until his balls touched the very top of her sex.  She stopped,
grinding herself into his groin, moaning in pleasure as he smoothed out
every wrinkle of her inner chamber.  He occupied every cubic centimeter of
Darla's vaginal canal.  The feeling was indescribable.  The additional
surface area of his cock had given him an equally enlarged number of nerve
endings to absorb pleasurable sensations.  He was in bliss, and judging by
the clenching of Darla's pussy and her squeals of pleasure, so was she.

   David gripped Darla's hips in both hands and began to be an active
participant in the dance of Eros.  He thrust his hips as he pulled hers
toward him forcefully impaling her on his cock again and again.  She
grunted as each thrust bottomed out in her pussy.  As he picked up speed
her grunts began to merge into one long groan of pleasure.

   "Yes!" she chanted with each stroke. 
"Yes...yes...yes...yes...yes...yes...yes...fuck... 
fuck...fuck...fuck...fuck...make...me...come...make...me...come...makemecom
e...  makemecome...makemecomemakemecomemakemecomemakemecome...commmmmm
mmmmming!

   As David felt her go over the edge into orgasm he picked up the pace of
his thrusts, one part of his brain noting that he would never have had the
stamina to fuck a woman like this just 24 hours earlier, pushing Darla
higher and higher into sexual bliss and feeling his own pleasure mounting
along with hers.  He decided to let himself come with her, knowing he could
summon many more erections before the night was finished.

   "Coming!" he grunted as he unleashed a torrent of hot semen (no sperm -
he'd had a vasectomy years ago) into her love grotto in a series of
powerful blasts.  Feeling David's cock jerk and spit within her drove Darla
through another series of rapid fire climaxes, leaving her panting and weak
with exertion.  Her whole body trembled.  She fell forward onto the bed. 
David followed her down and pulled Darla into the spoon position, his cock
sliding neatly back into her sheath as they lay together enveloped in the
afterglow of good sex.

   "Whew...that was intense," David said as he kissed the sweaty flesh on
the back of Darla's neck.

   "Intense?  That was mind blowing," she replied as her breathing started
to return to normal.

   "I hope you're not one and done, Darla," David said certain that she
wasn't.

   "No way, baby," Darla said, squeezing David's cock with her PC muscles.
"My god...you're still hard," she gasped, feeling that he'd lost neither
length nor firmness after his climax.  "Are you sure you're for real?  Am I
dreaming?"

   David cocked his hips, thrusting into Darla's well creamed cooze.  "Does
this feel real?"

   "OH!" she gasped.  "I don't care if it's real or not as long as it keeps
on fucking me."

   "Wish granted," David said, beginning a series of almost leisurely
strokes in and out of Darla's passion pit.  He reached around her body with
one hand and simultaneously stroked her delightful breasts and nipples.

   "Mmmmm...this is nice," she said, enjoying the easy stroking of David's
massive missile and the gentle ministrations of his hand on her breasts.

   Darla shuddered as a series of small orgasms swept over her - nothing
like the cataclysmic climax she'd experienced earlier, but intensely
pleasurable.

   "I want to lick your pussy," David whispered in her ear.  "I want to
taste you.  It's the dessert I've been craving all evening."

   David's words wound their way into Darla's brain and shot directly to
her clitoris which protruded, stiffly erect, from its hood at the top of
her slit.

   "Ohhhhh...god...I don't want you to stop fucking me..."

   "Don't worry, baby, I'm going to fuck you some more.  You'll be walking
rather awkwardly by morning darling - you can depend upon it."

   Darla moaned in protest as she felt her pussy empty for the first time
since David had shoved what felt like a baseball bat inside her.  But she
did not resist when David laid her on her back and spread her legs, pushing
her knees up and back toward her chest.  She was totally exposed to him and
completely at his mercy.  She whimpered a bit as that thought crossed her
mind.

   "Mmmmmm...this looks delicious," David murmured as he stared at the
junction of Darla's thighs.  Her crotch was a mess.  His thick semen and
her own secretions dribbled out from between a pair of very swollen labia,
angry red in color from their recent use and gaped wide open revealing the
depths of her pussy hole.

   David gripped her thighs right at the tops of her ass cheeks and pushed
her legs back farther exposing not only her wide open pussy but her asshole
as well.  Leaning in, he put his tongue right on the center of her anal
opening and started licking his way slowly upward, lapping up every ounce
of their combined juices as he went.

   Darla's body was twitching as if she was connected to live electric
wires of variable voltage.  As David's tongue worked its way up to her
thick outer labia she began to moan in pleasure.  David took his time. 
This was, after all, his dessert and he wanted to savor every bit of it
just as if it was a slice of his mother's pumpkin pie (with whipped cream,
of course).  Darla began to press her hips upward seeking greater contact
with his teasing tongue, but David was having none of that.  He held her in
place and continued his oral examination of her most intimate erogenous
zone.

   When he had thoroughly lapped Darla's major labia David switched targets
and began to trace the edges of her swollen inner lips with the tip of his
tongue.  Round and round he went teasing and tasting; smiling as he felt
Darla squirming in his firm grasp.  He carefully avoided her clit, which
was now an angry pink knot of flesh peaking proudly from its sheath. 
Darla's hip movements were becoming more and more urgent as David's teasing
continued.  Finally, he decided to put her out of her misery.

   Sliding two fingers into her sopping fuck tunnel, David began to saw
them in and out, finger fucking Darla's pussy.  Simultaneously David
captured her swollen clit between his lips and began to strum it with rapid
movements of his tongue while applying gentle rhythmic suction.

   The effect was explosive.  Darla's hips came up off the bed with such
force that David nearly lost his grip.  Her body went rigid, back arched,
every muscle taut, her mouth open in a silent, for the moment, scream. 
Then her hips dropped back to the bed and Darla let out a wail that David
felt would surely bring in the police.  David kept up his twin assaults
with fingers and mouth as Darla's body jerked and shook.  She put a pillow
over her face and continued to scream through one powerful climax after
another.  This went on for about a minute.

   "No more," Darla gasped as she pushed David away.  "No more.  Can't
stand any more.  Please.  Oh my god it feels too good.  Stop, please,
David, stop," she sobbed.

   David gave the proud flesh of Darla's pussy a last, lingering kiss,
pulled his fingers from her quivering quim, and moved up Darla's trembling
body to plant a pussy flavored kiss on her lips.  Then he placed the two
fingers so lately marinated in their combined sauces against her lips as
well and watched as she licked them clean.

   "Mmmmm...pussy juice and cum...my favorite cocktail," she murmured, her
breathing beginning to approach normal.

   "Where'd you learn to eat pussy like that," Darla asked.

   "I watch a lot of lesbian porn," David said, wryly.  "Girlfriends Films,
mostly.  Some Sweetheart Video - Nica Noel is a heck of a director."

   Darla looked at him as though he'd just spoken in tongues.  "What?"

   "Never mind.  Let's just say I've picked up a few tricks along the way
and leave it at that."

   "OK," Darla said, still looking at him with an odd expression.

   David rolled onto his back and lay with his head on a pillow, one arm
under Darla's neck cradling her head against his chest.  She reached down
and began to gently stroke his half hard cock.

   "God, I can't believe I took this beast," Darla said.

   "Take it you did," David said in a rather poor imitation of Yoda.

   She laughed and punched him in the side.  Then she got up on one elbow
and looked at David with a mischievous glint in her eye.

   "When's the last time anyone gave you a decent hand job?"

   "Never.  Unless you count the ones I've given myself.  In which case the
answer is yesterday afternoon," David said, chuckling.  "Very few people
know how to give a good hand job."

   "Well, you're in luck then, because it happens to be one of my
specialties.  And this cock looks just perfect for my talents.  Got any
lube?"

   "As a matter of fact, I do.  It's in that bag over there on the floor
next to the desk," he said.

   Darla scrambled off the bed, her tits bouncing, and went over to the
desk.  She unzipped the black Lands End bag.

   "What are all these discs," she asked as she rummaged around looking for
the lube.

   "That's my collection of porn," David said completely without
embarrassment.

   Darla made a face.

   "Where do you think I learned how to eat pussy so well," David said.

   "Lesbo porn?  Really?  You learned to eat pussy watching lesbo porn?"

   "Where better?"

   She found the bottle of lube, and David was relieved as he thought about
the butt plug and large rubber dick that were in the bottom of the bag - he
wasn't ready to give up all his secrets to this woman yet.

   Darla crawled back up onto the bed and sat cross legged, Indian fashion,
between David's legs.  His cock, which had been semi hard rose to fully
hard as he looked between those legs and saw her pretty, well fucked pussy,
still leaking some of his precious bodily fluids onto the bed spread.

   Darla flipped open the top of the lube bottle and grasped David's prick
with her other hand.  She poured a copious amount of the clear viscous
fluid onto the head and upper shaft of David's erection.  Satisfied that
she'd used enough, she closed the top of the bottle and set it aside. 
Then, she took David's cock in both hands and began to slowly stroke up and
down, squeezing her hands as she did so, twisting them back and forth,
coating the entire surface of his cock with the slick substance.

   Twenty four hours earlier, David wouldn't have had enough cock for her
to hold with both hands.  Now, however, there was a full ten inches for her
to play with.  David smiled as he watched her stare at his dick with a look
of such total concentration that it was like she wasn't aware of another
thing in the universe.  Her tongue tip emerged from one corner of her mouth
as she continued to work her hands up and down, up and down, faster and
then slower, but always with a firm grip.  His male monster was glistening
with a thick coating of the slippery stuff that he always used to jerk off
with.

   This was, without a doubt, the best hand job anyone had ever given him
in his entire life.  It felt even better than when he stroked himself off -
probably because he was able to look at her while she did it, and the view
was arousing to say the least.  He was alone in a hotel room with a
beautiful woman whom he had just fucked and sucked to a dozen or more
orgasms and now she was sitting between his legs jacking him off.  Life was
good.

   Darla applied more lube and then picked up the pace.  Her hands stroked
up and down.  Her hands twisted back and forth.  Her hands squeezed David's
cock on every stroke.  His hips were starting to move involuntarily.  He
was flexing his hips in time with her strokes.  Well, sort of.  He hadn't
quite got the rhythm.  She was smiling now, knowing that she had him right
where she wanted him.

   David was in ecstasy.  His head was back.  His eyes were closed.  He was
focused on those hands choking his chicken; the relentless pressure of
those hands; up and down; round and round; faster and faster.

   "I want you to come for me, David.  I want you to shoot your load.  Give
it to me baby.  C'mon...give it to me...give it to me...give it...give
it...give it," she chanted softly as she worked his cock to a well lubed
lather.  David felt the orgasm begin deep in the center of his belly, and
he had time to give one quick gasp of warning before the geyser erupted
from Mount Dick.

   "AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGGGGGGGG!"

   Cum was flying through the air.  Darla was in her own little world of
pleasure.

   "Yes!  Yes!  Yes!  Shoot that stuff baby!  Shoot it!"

   She kept on stroking him.  He grabbed her hands to stop her.

   "Just squeeze it," he managed to gasp.  "Just squeeze it.  Easy, baby,
easy."

   Darla leaned forward and engulfed David's cockhead with her lips.  He
gasped as she sucked the last few drops of his cum from his now softening
stalk.  Then she began to lick the cum from his body until she'd gotten
everything she could find.  And, then, she lay full length on him and
kissed him, pushing some of the cum she'd captured into his mouth with her
tongue.

   "Mmmmm, thanks," he whispered.  "I love snowballing."

   They kissed some more, basking in the afterglow of good conversation, a
good dinner, and fantastic sex.

   "You need to call me a taxi."

   "OK, you're a taxi."

   She punched him on the arm.

   "How long are you here?"

   "Two more nights."

   "Really?  Wanna do this again?"

   "We'd be fools not to."

   "Let's skip dinner next time."

   "Works for me.  What time do you get off?"

   "Five."

   "That's a good time to get off on."

   "Pick me up?"

   "Is it safe - neighbors and all that?"

   "I'll e-mail you an address where you can come and get me.  It'll be OK.
No one knows me in this town except a few co-workers."

   "OK.  Or you could call the cell phone number that I gave you."

   "That would work."

   She kissed him again and then got up from the bed and started retrieving
her clothing.  David watched her for a moment and then got up to put on
something to walk her down to the lobby.  He put his dress slacks and shirt
back on, then slipped into his loafers without any socks on.

   Darla had skipped the panty hose and was wearing her black sheath.  He
saw her slip her panties and panty hose into her purse.  He pocketed his
room key and his wallet and they went out the door, into the elevator, and
down to the lobby.  David had the doorman flag a cab and then he went
around to the drivers' window as the doorman ushered Darla into the back
seat.

   David gave the cabby a pair of twenty dollar bills.

   "This ought to get the lady anywhere she wants to go.  You keep the
rest."

   "You got it man," the cabby said.

   Darla rolled down the window and leaned her head out for a quick kiss.

   "Call me," David said as the cab started to pull away.
   And she did.  And they did.  And that, as they say, is another story.

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