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From: rache <rache696@yahoo.com>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.d
Subject: Re: {ASSM} Bi High 3 ch.11 (final) by Rebecca Stancil (mmf, romance, teen)
Date: Sat, 21 Jun 2008 19:32:53 -0700
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hehe I just love hiding stuff...I'm weird and actually I edited that
friendship thing, it's now "1179 words on friendship" cause I actually
counted them all and I added two sentences someplace. I'm writing a
collection of hort stories, like I did with "Indian Summer" for T.S.
with this story, "nothing a plummer" and "I dream of...John?" and
"War on terror" and "Teasing" and "Last Married Man on Earth" so
far...How many is that? I need to write more, but I keep getting stuck
writing long stuff. It's wearing me down and I need to read and
read....Here I'll put something else, cause maybe this is fun? I'm a
liiittle buzzed :))
The Last Married Man on Earth
By rache
Copyright 2008 Rachael Ross all rights reserved.
Story Codes: M/F, Romance
Synopsis: A true story about my husband 19 years after the collapse of
western civilization.
Note: I really wanted to write something mainstream, but I'm always
surprised by how little I understand the concept.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
The Last Married Man on Earth
By rache
I knocked on the door all ready to sell a brand new Super Sucker 3000
to whoever answered. I didn't expect her to be so beautiful though.
She was wearing some kind of Victoria's Secret negligee thing, and her
body was immaculate beneath it. Big firm perfect breasts with hard
inch long nipples that just begged for some serious sucking. Her tummy
was flat and smooth and her hips nice and round. Her legs were so long
they reached the floor and I could see the thin triangle of her sweet
bush through the gossamer-like material of her thong panties. She had
a face like my first girlfriend's older sister too, the gorgeous one
who wouldn't have given me the time of day if I'd bought her the
watch, but this woman looked like she wanted to get down and suck the
sperm out of my balls with a big, thick, meaty straw and she had the
mouth for it too. Generous and sexy, with pouting lips and a long pink
tongue; this girl looked hungry!
"Ohhhh baby, we need a man like you!" the woman cooed as she caught a
hint of my ten inch tent pole and I couldn't help but notice the
aromatic tang of her arousal wafting on the morning breeze. She
reached for her breasts, massaging them slowly with her small delicate
hands and I swallowed hard. She rubbed her creamy thighs together and
I stared at the wetness between them, like glistening strands of pale
honey dripping from the comb.
"Who is that Pamela?" another woman's voice echoed through the house
and I recognized her as the college coed, the cheerleader one, who was
renting the small studio above my next door neighbor's garage. She was
just eighteen and incredibly beautiful. She had mouth watering tits
and a gorgeous, sublime ass that screamed "Armageddon in your pants!"
everytime she walked past me on her way to school. I thought about her
every night behind closed eyes, usually while I jerked off inside my
wife, which was basically what sex is after twenty four years of happy
marriage, and the secret of our bliss.
"It's a man with a huge cock!" Pamela giggled and I almost spilled
right there on her front steps.
"Oh, thank God! I'm so tired of sixty-nining with other girls all the
time!" the coed responded happily. "Send him my way! I'll get my Kama
Sutra book! Where's the strawberry jelly?"
"Well, are you just gonna stand there?" Pamela wiggled her eyebrows
seductively and pinched her nipples playfully and my dick ached
painfully. "Or are you gonna fuck the living daylights out of me and
my best friend?"
"Uh, sorry," I told her and I really was. "I'm married."
"What?" she stared at me like she couldn't believe what I'd just said.
"Yeah," I held up my hand so she could see my old tarnished wedding
ring. "Twenty-four years this June."
"So? What difference does that make?" She reached for my bulging
manhood and I stepped back, shaking my head sadly.
"No, you don't understand," I said. "I'm really married."
I left her there, standing in the doorway looking dazed and confused
and more than a little unhappy. The college girl, whose name escapes
me at the moment, joined Pamela and peeked at me over the older
woman's shoulder.
"Who was that?" the coed asked.
"The last married man on Earth," I heard Pamela sigh and then she
closed the door.
The end