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Message-ID: <63536asstr$1443471002@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: RavensDrkGothic@aol.com
Full-name: RavensDrkGothic
Subject: {ASSM} A Lost Night
Lines: 264
Date: Mon, 28 Sep 2015 16:10:02 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d


 
A Lost Night 
 
    The wind blowing off the water to the  line of beach houses.  A warm 
breeze, but comforting on the hot  unseasonable night.  Early April is not the 
time for 90 degree sunny days  and a warm night to follow.  The salty air 
carried with the breeze as the  series of wind chimes sing their song of 
unbridled glee.  The darkening sky  did little to cool the temperature.  The 
only relief the soft whisper of  wind and a touch of cool air.
    The mostly deserted shore road, not  even a thought for the tourists in 
the months ahead.  Just a few occupied  houses of the permanent residents 
sprinkled amongst the homes of the very  affluent weekend owners and the 
seasonal rental houses and  cottages.
    A distant sound of a train  interrupting the sound of the rough waves 
breaking on the beach nearby.   Walking up the pathway from the curving 
beach, the sand still warm to the  feet.  comforting as the foot sinks and then 
twists slightly as the sand  yields to the woman's weight.  Shivering as a 
strong gust of wind caresses  her bare legs.  Her bikini bottoms almost hidden 
by the short cover  up.  Taking one last look up and down the mostly 
deserted beach, seeing one  lone figure a ways down the beach.  Waving 
automatically as she headed past  the first line of houses.  Then the narrow two land 
road and crossing the  hot blacktop to the next row of houses.  Traveling up 
the side of the  old house and stepping into the bucket of water at the 
screened in back  porch.  Happy to not need the shower to rinse off salt  water.
    Looking back to the beach and seeing  the white capped waves as they 
race to the shore.  Smiling softly at the  thought of how many days she had 
sat and watched the sun set as she sipped a mug  of coffee.  A ritual that she 
did as a teenage girl and now in her middle  years still enjoying the 
coffee as she sat on the narrow dock, legs dangling to  the water.  The lone 
person from the beach, passing her sight and again  automatically extending her 
arm in a friendly wave.  Then climbing the  three steps to the porch putting 
her flip flops on the floor and carrying in the  empty mug to the kitchen, 
depositing it into the empty sink.  Thinking for  a moment, whether to make 
another coffee and then deciding to have a more  relaxing beverage.
    Walking to the bar and unlocking the  light brown walnut door, fingers 
caressing the smooth brown wood as she kneels  on the floor and pulls out a 
bottle of Christian Brothers Brandy and a bottle of  sweet vermouth.  Taking 
an old fashioned glass and walking quickly back to  the kitchen drop in a 
few cubes of ice.  Shivering deliciously as the  coolness caresses her 
fingers.  The glass already chilling as she walks  back to the bar and pours in a 
liberal amount of brandy and a few precious drops  of vermouth.  Then back 
to the kitchen again to add a cherry, then two and  some juice.  Stirring it 
with her finger and licking it with her parched  lips.  Sipping quickly and 
feeling the cool wet moisture trickle down her  throat.  Moaning softly with 
the taste of the brandy.  "Mmmmhh."   Setting it down on the picnic table 
as she slides her hands under her cover  up.  The small cloth of her bottoms 
falls to her ankles.  Then pulling  her arms inside the loose cover up and 
doing the magic trick only a woman can  do, making her bikini bra appear from 
the armhole of her cover  up.    Both hands slowly massaging the lines in 
the soft  skin from the indentations of the stitching.  Dropping the bra to 
form a  small feminine pile on the floor.
    Opening a small plastic cabinet on  the porch and pulling out a couple 
of vanilla scented candles and an incense  holder.  Lighting the candles, 
the fragrance of the vanilla, forming a warm  ball in her stomach.  The 
incense changing the fragrance.  A soft glow  of light on the screened in porch.  
Sitting down on the chaise lounge,  extending the long slim legs and 
swiveling her hips to lay back and relax,  taking in the ambiance of the scents, 
the back ground pounding of the surf and  the nearby wind chimes.  The warmth 
of the alcohol, giving a feeling of  well being. 
    Pulling the hems of her cover up  closed over her upper thighs.  
Feeling the delicious coolness of a stray  gust of wind outlining the thin cloth 
to her thighs and hips and chest.   Two buttons showing beneath the material. 
 The sensitive flesh of the full  long nipples responding to the stimuli of 
the breeze.  Small goosebumps  raised on her legs and arms and around the 
areolas of darker flesh surrounding  the hard nipples.  Another sip of the 
Brandy Manhattan and a glow  of warmth filling her stomach again.  Thighs 
clenching to hold away the  need to make water.
    The house to herself for the  weekend.  Daughter away with friends and 
sister away with  beau.  Cheese and crackers and maybe some pepperoni.  Too 
late to  make dip for the chips......yes, cheese and crackers.....another  
brandy.............and a blanket.........things to do next time  up..........
    The background surf on the sand,  joined by a distant rumble of 
thunder, a streak of lightning across the sky,  outlining the nearby houses in 
stark relief.......and then the pitter patter of  individual drops of rain on 
the roof and screens.......the smell of salt air,  rivaling the incense and 
candles........the outside darkness complete around the  porch........no 
distracting lights from other houses or cars........just the  occasional bolt of 
lightning, the wind blowing the marsh grass behind the  porch.
    Finally, unable to hold back the  basic need to pee, the woman sitting 
up, legs swinging gracefully over the side  of the chaisse, another longer 
sip of brandy and setting the glass down standing  a bit unsteadily with the 
quick movement.  Giggling softly in the  night.  Not an unpleasant sound.
    Barefooted, the robe touching the  backs of her thighs, barely hiding 
the bottoms of her cheeks, ass cheeks that  is.  And barely below the fleshy 
mound.  Really not the only piece of  clothing you would wear with others 
present.  Walking, to the kitchen,  reciting the items to be taken care of,  
pee, blanket, drink, cheese and  crackers.......reciting it again and again 
in her mind.
    Sitting down and the feeling of  relief as the stream of water stops.  
Wiping and then on to the next  item.........grabbing a New York Giant, 
throw blanket and wrapping it around her  waist.  Then making another drink, a 
sip and nod of the head to indicate  that it meets her approval.  And a plate 
of town house crackers quickly  filling and then cutting wedges of extra 
sharp cheddar, alternating with a thick  dab of crunky peanut butter 
crackers......turning her head and listening to the  chimes and the screen door as it 
bangs with the wind......wondering if one  blanket will be enough.......
    Plate balanced on upraised hand,  imitating the waitress she doesn't 
have the grace to be.  Glass of brandy  in other hand.  Humming a Janis 
Jopling rendition of "Summertime."   Placing the plate of cheese and peanut butter 
and crackers, next to her bikini  on the picnic table.  Setting down her 
fresh glass of brandy next to the  old one and then unwrapping the throw and 
drapping it over her legs and  hips.  Definitely not enough as a gust of 
wind, chills her arms and upper  torso.  Shivering and a quick grasp of her 
glass to get some instant heat  into her body.
    The flickering of the candles,  threatening to extinguish with each 
gust of wind.  The lightning,  quickening and the thunder pealing in low long 
rumbles across the darkened  sky.  The pitter patter of the rain, now a 
steady drumming on the roof and  screens.  The surf roughening as the tide has 
changed and the water,  pulling the sand back with it, adding to the chorus of 
sounds.
    Taking off her glasses and setting  them down, closing her eyes as she 
inhales the assorted fragrances.   Feeling bits of crackers slide down her 
cover up and through the opening between  the buttons.  Enjoying the solitude 
of the empty shoreline.  Wishing  that she might have put on some soothing 
music, but knowing the wind and the  storm provide all she needs.
    Finishing her fresh glass of brandy  and then sipping the half finished 
one, watery with the melted ice.   Wishing that she had made a shaker and 
brought it out.  Feeling her body  totally relaxing.  Mind floating to a semi 
conscious state.  All her  muscles slow in response, as she unsteadily 
bringing the glass to her lips  again.  A total lassitude settling over her body 
as she sets the glass down  and lays back.
    The gusts of winds plucking at the  collar of her cover up, blowing 
between her legs, as her eyes slowly focus on  her toes, counting each one and 
then again.  The numbers strange in her  mind, but not knowing what they 
should be.  Eyes going blank as her lids  cover the dilated pupils.  Her 
breathing quick short breaths.  Feeling  sensations as the gusts of wind, cool her 
warm flesh.  Not able to  lift her arms, curl her fingers.  Knowing that 
something is not right; but  unable to focus on the cause.
    Registering the banging of the screen  door.  Then the feeling of 
moisture dripping on her body, wanting to sit up  and look at the ceiling.  Eyes 
fluttering as she battles with the closed  lids.  Forcing them open for a 
moment.  Seeing a dark silhouette  looming over her, a shadow form in the 
flickering candlelight.  Then eyes  closing again.
    More water dripping onto her bare  flesh, wondering when she took the 
throw off of her legs.  Not wondering  where the water came from, trying to 
puzzle this mystery as she feels her arms  raising above her head.  Each 
wrist a band of warmth around them and then  feeling something wrapped around 
them, a tightness around each wrist.  Head  turning back and forth, trying to 
shake of the fog in her mind.
    A pressure on the inside of each of  her knees.  The warmth of wet 
thumbs, pushing her legs open.  Then  feeling a strong hand, grasp the kneecaps 
and pull the legs apart more.   The cool air, rushing along the soft inner 
thighs.  Caressing  the outer labia, and then partially open slash of pink 
flesh.  Moaning  softly at the winds kiss.  Feeling her cover up lifted in 
front, almost  hearing the opening of each button and then feeling the coolness 
lapping at  her chest, as the front is pulled to each side.  Small breasts, 
barely  bumps on the woman's chest.  Nipples distended, the sensitive nerve 
 endings raised and sending their message of pleasure to  the brain.
    The creak of the chaisse lounge,  as the woman, works her lips, forming 
but not able to articulate words.   The weight settling between her legs, 
warm hard muscled flesh, wet with the  blowing rain.  Fingers prying her 
semi-swollen pussy lips  open.  Thick fingers, pulling back the rounded ridges, 
opening  the petals of her body,  Fingertip, pushing at the opening,  
rubbing along the slit.  The woman moaning at the touch, did she moan aloud  or to 
herself.  Knowing that what is happening is not quite right.   Eyes 
flicking open for a second.  Seeing the thick lips, the white piano  key teeth, the 
dark eyes, looking almost black in the dimness of the  porch.
    Feeling a tongue lick at her left  nipple, then bite on the turgid nub. 
 Feeling the pain of the bite,  but body not even jerking.  Then the touch 
of the tongue  again.  A warm poker of hard flesh, pushing at her opening, 
pushing  apart the swollen lips of her labia.  A thin film of lubrication  
allowing the thick knob to push the lips back, wedging at the opening to her  
tunnel.  The mushroom like appendage, pushing into the warm and now moist  
darkness of your vagina.  Walls closing on the warm shaft.  Sheathing  it 
like as glove.  A feeling of fullness in her groin as the shaft pushes  deeper. 
 A grunt from the shadowy figure, as coarse hair, rubs  against the 
hairless mound.  Feeling hands against her hips, holding them  as the shaft pulls 
back, pussy closing behind it.  Then a quick hard thrust  of well defined 
veined flesh, parting the tunnel, swelling the sides,  filling the lower torso 
of the woman.  Pushing deep into her yielding  flesh.  The rain now 
competing with the wet sound of flesh on  flesh.  The sucking of the walls as the 
shaft slides in and out in quick  movements.  Long minutes and hundreds of 
strokes the thick dark rod  delves deep, occasionally eliciting a very soft 
groan, as the tip of the  velvety head, tickles the opening to the fertile womb.
    The woman, her eyes moving under the  closed lids, registering each 
stroke of the swollen flesh as it enters her  body.  Knowing what it is called, 
but not understanding that the movements,  the sensations are not willingly 
consented to by her.  Her body lying  open, legs pushed to the sides.  
Lower lips swollen and red, her  muscles contracting, squeezing on the girth of 
the long ebony shaft.   Feeling the pleasure, the uncomfortable feeling in 
her lower body, and then the  pleasure again.  Alternating, not willing any 
of the sensations, just  registering them as she lies totally passive.  
Understanding the grunt and  the tensing of the hard muscled thighs between her 
legs.  Feeling the  expulsion in slow motion as the seed coats the opening to 
her  womb.  Wondering at how clearly she can feel the spurts inside of  
her.  The slight softening of the shaft.  Then the hard thrusts again  as the 
piston drives into her body.  Now feeling warm sweaty flesh,  covering her 
chest.  Nipples poking at the hard muscled chest.  The  sensation pleasure as 
the body is still moving as it smothering her body.   A musk, replacing the 
background scent of vanilla.  Nipples pinpoints of  pleasure as they are 
rubbed between the two bodies.
    Feeling a tickling between her legs,  as juices seep from her plugged 
hole.  The slow stream of moisture,  sliding down between her thighs, being 
funneled between the bottom of  her ass cheeks.  A small puddle forming under 
her body.  The added  lubrication in her tunnel, making the slick shaft 
glide in and out of her  body.  Feeling the sack of flesh, banging softly 
against her.  Trying  to open her eyes as she feels the weight lifted from her 
body.  The feeling  of emptiness after the long minutes of being stroked deep 
in her pussy.   Moaning softly to herself.  Not sure why.
    Then feeling her legs being lifted,  rolled upwards and backwards.  Her 
body forming a "Vee"  The backs of  her calves held in a viselike grip, 
bruising the softly muscled flesh.  A  gush of frothy liquid spilling from the 
gapping opening, labia slick with the  slimey fluid.  The moisture running 
to form around the dark ring of her  asshole.  Then the touch of the bulbous 
mushroom head against the small  brown hole.  Clicking her mind closed and 
open again.  Mentally  knowing what is happening, musing at the thought of 
the fat head at her small  opening.  Viewing it clinically, with a 
disassociated thought  process.
    A wave of pain as the head pops into  the round hole with a quick jab.  
A look of surprise in her mind, as her  face displays no reaction.  Then 
the shaft pushing deeper as her legs bend  back, the full weight, bearing on 
the tip of the shaft.  Slowly pushing  into the small opening, the tight 
tunnel.  Filling her body with a deep  discomfort, after a dull pain as the ring 
opened unwillingly to the  assault.  The juice that had pooled in the small 
ring and the slick organ,  made the penetration easy after the entry.  
Quick fevered movements,  jerking and pushing hard into the anal cavity.  The 
strokes short and hard  and quick.  The woman, moving with no control on the 
chaisse, body shaken  with the hard movements.  Then the quick spasm and 
again, the hot jism,  filling the hole with a smaller quantity of jism. 
    Heavy breathing as the shadowy figure  catches long hard pulls of 
breath.  The still long thick shaft, popping  free of the tight hole with loud 
sound.  Stilling legs raised and pulled to  the side, the figure slides off 
the lounge, two gapping holes at the bottom of  the "Vee".  Oozing with a 
thick creme.  The shadow moving along the  side of the prostrate woman, and 
leans over her with knees bent.  Fingers  opening the saliva covered lips of her 
face.  Leaning further over and  pushing the velvety head between the lips, 
forming them around it as the shaft  moves, semi-hard in and out of the 
slack mouth.  Cleaning the softening  shaft with the moist lips.  Finally an 
involuntary cough, the loudest sound  from the supine woman.   Her bikini bra 
undone from her  hands. 
    Pulling free from the slack lips,  taking the almost empty glass of 
brandy, pouring it down the open throat of the  woman.  Body jerking as the 
liquid triggers the gag reflex.  Setting  the glass on the table, wiping the 
sweating glass of moisture and oils with the  bikini bottoms.  Raising them up 
and hearing the deep inhalation.  A  grunt as they are used to dry the 
saliva and juices from the semi-hard  shaft.
    Disappearing into the night, into the  rain swept yard, the shadowy 
figure, moves silently in the wetness.   Lightning illuminating the form as it 
is swallowed along the  shoreline.
    
    The woman waking in the gloom of a  rainy late morning.  Eyes slowly 
opening, adjusting to the  surroundings.  Mouth thick and cottony the taste of 
brandy strong to her  senses.  One candle still flickering in the blackened 
wick around the glob  of melted wax.  Groaning as she moves her legs, 
feeling the soreness of her  bruised labia, then the pain in her buttocks, her 
ass, feeling it bruised as  well.  Legs coated and crusted with drying juices. 
 As her lower body  contracts, a glob of stringy cum, oozes from her pussy. 
 Wiping with her  hand and seeing the white stringy strands.   Fingers 
toying with the  swollen flesh.  Not remembering any more than bits and pieces 
of her  tortured dreams.
    
    
            
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