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Subject: Title story: "Elly - 3" Author: Anonymous 79644979
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Date: Wed, 05 Jul 2006 23:39:51 +0000
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Elly - 3
When I awoke, I lay there for a few minutes trying to sort things out. The clock
said 9:08. After reminding myself that this was a Saturday and I did not have to
go into the place I laughingly refer to as "work," I began to wonder: Had I
dreamed it? No there was a wet spot where she'd lain. And I became aware of the
aroma of fresh coffee (half- Sumatra, quarter-pound each of French-roasted
Mexican Altura and French- roasted Colombian, dripped in a Braun Melitta-filter
pot) I rolled to my feet, pulled on my faded blue terrycloth robe, slipped into
my slippers (clever name for them, eh?) and thwap-thwapped into the living room.
Elly had opened the shutters and glorious sunshine was pouring in through the
fourth-floor windows of my tenement apartment. She was doing wonderful things
for my old, blue Dior robe (the tattered one that came halfway to my calves). A
cup of The Good Stuff was on the battered old oak table next to the love seat
and she'd switched the stereo to play through the living room speakers, the ones
in the books shelves. It was something called "LITE FM" and I hated it. "LITE"
means no calories and calories are a measure of heat no-one was ever going to
accuse Ann Murray or Kansas of generating heat with their music.
On Elly's lap was the three-ring binder in which I keep photocopies of my
published stories.
She looked up as I entered. Her eyes were red-rimmed she'd been weeping. "Oh,
David," she said, "I can't believe you wrote these!"
"Why not?" I already knew which one had elicited that response. "Because I
like to fuck?"
Her expression collapsed. "Why do you have to spoil it?"
"I'm a package deal. With the beautiful story comes the guy who supported
himself for a couple of years by writing brilliant, sensitive stuff like `Lezzy
Bitch' and `Mom, Sis And Every Body'. And if that disappoints you, think what it
does for me, okay?"
She looked down and pursed her lips. I tried to ignore the Parting of the Robe.
She murmured, "I guess that's fair. I mean, you'll take me as a package deal, I
guess I have to do the same. You don't mind being with a slutty bimbo who loves
being fucked and cumming all the time." She looked up at me, beautiful blue eyes
wide and bright.
"I don't mind and I don't think you're slutty."
She closed the binder and set it aside. I was disappointed that She wasn't
compelled to finish what She was reading. She leaned forward and I got a good
view all the way down the front of her robe. She opened mind and sucked my cock,
still coated with our juices from the night before, completely into her mouth
and began using her tongue to wash it. The inevitable happened quickly.
She pulled back and released it and looked up at me. "I get off sucking cock.
Drinking semen makes me get over."
"I know. So does being licked or having a cock inside you -- "
"That's different. Then I can't stop cumming and I don't want to. But drinking
it, getting off that way -- then it's just once and I'm in control."
"And the other way you're being controlled."
"No -- no, the other way I'm out of control, I can't control myself. That's
why I started studying Yoga when I was fifteen -- to help me learn to
control myself. I controlled my eating and stopped smoking and never do
drugs anymore and hardly ever even drink. And I never, ever masturbate. That
way nothing controls me but me and no one can control me or hurt me or take
advantage of me."
"That's why you want it to hurt you when you fuck."
She nodded gravely. "If it doesn't hurt -- well, you saw what happened." She was
blushing. "I just keep getting over..." She dropped her eyes. "It's not natural
to be such a slut. That's why you're the first man I ever let lick me and that
was just because I like you so much."
I frowned, pulled my robe closed and sat down in the rocker facing the couch.
"Last night you told me you liked it -- before I licked you."
"No, I didn't -- "
"You're not a good liar."
"But you are the first -- "
She stopped and tears welled up.
"How old were you when you let a woman lick you?"
"A year before I met you, my cousin and I, we -- we --"
"You liked it."
"Yes, dammit!" She shouted and then looked away. Softly: "I used to masturbate
and get over every night before I went to sleep. But when Adele licked me, I
went nuts. I licked her, too, and she went nuts, too. That's when I realized
what a slut I am, because she was the biggest slut you ever saw and I was
getting over just like her."
"How do you know she was a slut?"
"I'd seen her doing it with guys and men. She'd do it with any guy she saw,
sometimes whole bunches of them. It was like she couldn't get enough, like she
was an addict."
"Sounds like she was a sex addict, alright. And a slut. But you're no slut."
"How can you say that? Only a slut would get over the way I do -- "
"You're saying that every woman I ever cared about is a slut?" I growled, as
menacingly ...
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