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o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o  	This part of my collection offers a very wide variety of  o
o  stories. They have been submitted by people from all over the  o
o  world.  Also from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups). There is no    o
o  particular order other than offering them to you in  alpha-    o
o  betical directories.                                           o
o  	I don’t believe in categorizing things. "I don’t want to  o
o  be typed therefore I don’t type things myself." I think it’s   o
o  a lot more fun to browse around and find 'little' surprises    o
o  that you might not have even thought of looking for.           o
o   	Lest we forget!!!  This story was produced as adult en-   o
o tertainment and should not be read by minors.  Kristen Becker   o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o


Bedtime Story - The Gift of Pleasure (sharing)
by Anonymous PIXNIX Author

***

	It's said that the best gift is a gift of the self. But the
woman at the center of my life has taught me there's a higher
level yet -- the selfless gift of someone else. 
	I was lucky. I found Kelly early, and escaped playing the
endless, frustrating games, haunting the bars and beaches and
exercise clubs. She's my best friend, playmate, confidant, refuge.
She's shared my bed for four years, my house for three, and my
thoughts, it seems, for a thousand. Sometimes it seems as though
everything I know about myself came to me through her. 
	Lucky, too, because it's hard to imagine a more satisfying
love partner. I've known two kinds of passion. The first is like a
carefully built hearth fire, warm and satisfying, but measured and
controlled. The other is what Kelly and I have -- a wildfire,
unplanned and unpredictable. 
	Kelly's look, her touch, her voice are all charged with a
rich, joyful sensuality. She can take control with an earthy lust
or give herself up in elegant surrender. And she has the magic
secret of involving herself fully in her lovemaking, focusing her
energy, freeing her senses. 
	In short, she's been everything that any one woman can be --
imaginative, enthusiastic, a many-faceted gem. The only thing 
Kelly can't be is someone else. That may not sound like much of a
limitation. It didn't sound like much of one to me, either --
until I met Cassie. 
		#
	It was supposed to be a quiet little three-day trip to
Washington. A college in Olympia had asked Kelly to conduct a
seminar in her specialty, women's history. I went along to share
the driving and escape for a while from the world of blueprints,
bids, and budgets where I made my living. 
	One of Kelly's faults is that she'll never pay for a hotel
when she can impose on a friend. Cassie, she explained, lived on
the Olympic Peninsula, twenty miles from the city and thirty miles
from the Pacific Coast. 
   	"I haven't seen her for three years. I'll bet she'd be glad to 
put us up." 
	Remembering past lumpy beds and crowded bathrooms, I asked 
dubiously, "Are you sure?" 
	"Don't worry," was the cheery reply. "You'll like Cassie." 
   	I clung to that feeble promise when Kelly realized an hour 
into the trip that she'd forgotten her presentation slides, and 
when the air-conditioner on the Rabbit died before we reached the 
Oregon border. It wasn't much comfort. I was hot and road-weary 
and wishing I'd stayed home by the time we crept up the winding 
forest road to the tiny natural-wood A-frame perched on the 
hillside. 
	But when I turned the key off and escaped from my seat, the 
beauty of the fir-covered hills improved my outlook. Cassie 
improved it even more. She came bounding down the steps from the 
front deck in white shorts and a bikini top and greeted us both 
with enthusiastic hugs. 
	The hug she gave me ran about three seconds long and fifty 
watts  hot, and left my senses jangling. Cassie was a couple of 
years older and a couple of inches taller than Kelly, with a mane 
of black hair and a lightly-tanned body that was classically lush 
and rounded. Her smile was playful, her eyes full of life. Hugging 
her was like putting your finger in a light socket, and the 
feeling didn't go away when she let go. 
	I caught Kelly looking at me with a what-did-I-tell-you-look, 
and I acknowledged her sagacity with a nod. I already liked 
Cassie. In fact, I liked her more than it seemed wise to let Kelly 
know. 
		#
	By the time I emerged from Cassie's shower, dinner was nearly 
ready, and the women were well along in the kind of catching-up 
friends who have been apart do. It was a frank, funny, gossipy 
conversation about jobs, friends in common, the men in their lives 
-- myself included. I enjoyed listening -- and, yes, looking at 
Cassie -- so much that I didn't mind being the third wheel. 
	Kelly's fatigue and a painfully early appointment with her 
alarm clock sent us retreating to bed. The extra bedroom had a 
huge skylight above the bed, and Kelly and I cuddled together 
naked on the blankets, mixing friendly fondling with star-gazing. 
I nibbled and kissed her shoulder, enjoying the rich warm scents 
of her body. Kelly's fingers stroked the inside of my thigh, and 
my cock stirred in answer. 
	She curled her hand around my erection and murmured, "Is this 
for me or Cassie?" 
	An odd joke, I thought. "For you, silly." 
	A pout. "Then you don't like her?" 
	"I like her. I'm with you."
	She bent her head to my chest and teased a nipple with her 
tongue. Below, her fingers wandered, stroking the shaft of my 
cock, cupping my balls. I slid one hand down to the small of her 
back and pulled her closer, greeting her with a kiss that turned 
up the heat in the bedroom.
	Her grip tightened on my cock, and she broke out of the kiss 
to tattoo a line of sharp love bites along my shoulder. My 
fingertips grazed her hip and slid down across one thigh to her 
dark triangle. She drew one leg up to open herself to me, and I 
found her silky wet. Soft moans escaped her lips as my fingers 
explored the swollen folds of her cleft, the sensitive knot of her 
clitoris. 
  	 "I want you inside me," she whispered, pushing me back and 
straddling me. 
	I felt her hunger, her heat, as Kelly guided my cock inside 
her and lowered herself down to take me deep. We melded together, 
her fiery softness a glove around my straining hardness. I pinched 
and rolled her nipples between my fingers the way she liked as she 
squirmed, eyes closed and lips parted, on my shaft.
	Little grunts and jolts of pleasure greeted my thrusts inside 
her. She reached down and seized my cock around its root with one 
hand, found her clitoris with the other, and rode both hard. 
Rocking and squirming, she suddenly cried out in aching, soaring 
pleasure.
	I pulled her down and rolled us over, taking her to her back 
as the waves of her orgasm were still rippling through her 
trembling body. She locked her arms around my waist as I drove 
myself at her. "Yes," she whispered. "Oh, God, yes. Hard. I want 
to feel you come--" 
   	She clung to me, legs wide and welcoming, as I pistoned deep 
into her. The old bed squeaked and bounced. We were flying 
together, her cunt grasping, caressing, stroking, urging me, until 
my body went rigid and my orgasm ripped through me. Her muscles 
milked the last drops from me, and we melted back down to the 
mattress and a sweaty side-by-side embrace. 
	"Where'd that come from?" I whispered. "I thought you were 
worn out,"
  	 "Guess not," she said with a smile.  
	 We lay there together in a silent glow for several minutes, 
sliding down toward sleep. Her head was nestled on my shoulder, my 
arms encircling her. Then she raised her head and looked at me.	   
"Do you want to make love with Cassie?" 
	Not a joke. "In another reality--" I started to say, then 
stopped, puzzled and a bit uncomfortable. "Who wouldn't? She's a 
terrific lady."
	"If a chance should come -- it's okay for you to take it." 
	I was stunned. "What?"
   	"She's been a friend for a long time, and I trust her. I saw 
the way you looked at her. And I love you both." 
	"Where'd this come from? Did she say something to you?" 
   	"No. And I'm not matchmaking. I'm not going to make it 
happen," she said. "That's between you two. I just wanted you to 
know that I love you enough to give you that, if it happens on its 
own."  
		#
	  The notion Kelly planted in my head kept me up long after 
she was asleep. Was I supposed to be happy, earnestly grateful? I 
was mostly confused and suspicious. Was it a test? Should I say 
thanks-but-no-thanks? Did Cassie want this? I barely knew her. 
Should I expect a pass, an invitation? If I made the approach, how 
would Cassie know that it was all right? 
	I fell asleep without any answers. 
	When morning rolled in, Kelly rolled out, waking me to say 
good-bye and kiss my forehead. When I asked her whether I'd 
dreamed the whole conversation, she showed an I've-got-a-secret 
giggly smile. 
	"Pinch yourself if you want," she said. "It won't go away."
	"You're sure it's all right?"
	"I'm sure about me," she said, squeezing my hand. "You'll have 
to check with Cassie yourself."
	How? I wondered. There were still no answers.
	Cassie said good morning with a hug when we crossed paths in 
the kitchen. But it was a chaste hug, and I found no cues in her 
voice or words that she wanted me to be anything more than the 
friend of her friend. And, as though she meant not to tempt me, 
she had chosen a soft, loose blouse that almost -- but not quite 
-- hid her splendid breasts.
	Somewhere between Cassie's shower and breakfast, I finally 
realized that what Kelly had given me wasn't a promise, or even an 
invitation -- just permission. It didn't have to happen. It 
probably wouldn't. And once I realized that, I relaxed and began 
to enjoy Cassie's company as I had the night before.
	We told stories on Kelly as we washed dishes together. She 
told me more about the design and layout work she did on the 
expensive computer system in the little office. We ran errands to 
the nearest little town -- stamps, diskettes and groceries.
	"I'm sure glad you were with me," she said as we drove back. 
"This is the first time I can remember that that clerk in the 
computer store hasn't leered at my tits and hit on me."	
	"My pleasure," I said, then decided to be brave. "So does this 
explain your choice of clothes this morning?"
	She nodded. "Some people don't know the meaning of no."
	I said nothing for a moment, then said something that made me 
wish I'd stayed silent. "But in his defense, some no's are harder 
to take than others." 
	She cocked an eyebrow questioningly in my direction. 
	Stupid--  "Look, I'm no good at flirting or flattery," I said 
quickly. "I just took the long way around trying to say that I 
think you're one heart-stopping woman."
	The eyebrow stayed up. "So does this explain why I kept 
catching you looking at me last night?"
	"Guilty as charged. Sorry if I annoyed you."
	Her smile was forgiving, even a bit mischievous. "I don't mind 
so much with some people." 
	When we got back, I excused myself to call my company, and 
then spent twenty minutes troubleshooting a nonsense problem. When 
I finally emerged from the office, Cassie was nowhere in the 
house.
	I found her at last on the deck behind the house. She was 
sitting, her back to me, in a big redwood chaise, looking out at 
the forest. When I opened the sliding glass door, she rose and 
turned toward me. My breath caught when I saw that she was nude. 
	"I really didn't mean to hide from you," she said softly, 
making no effort to cover herself.
	Her breasts were pale, round and lovely, with dark areoles and 
a faint tan line diving into her cleavage. Her jet-black hair was 
echoed below, framed by her full, womanly hips. 
	I crossed the deck to where she stood and she came into my 
arms, her skin sun-warmed, her hair fragrant. She kissed me, and I 
rediscovered the forgotten truth of how different women are. Her 
kisses were soft-mouthed and dreamy, more like floating weightless 
than flying, yet every bit as compelling as Kelly's kisses of the 
preceding night.
	In a wordless collaboration, four hands slowly stripped away 
my clothing until our embrace was skin-to-skin. Hands explored 
backs and faces, shoulders and hips with ever more knowing 
touches. At last I cupped her buttocks in my hands and pulled her 
firmly to me, my cock pressed between us in rigid salute.
	Cassie melted out of my grasp to her knees and took the head 
of my cock into her velvet mouth, her dancing tongue working magic 
on the sensitive ridge. I moaned and steadied myself with a hand 
on the back of the chaise, ran my fingers through her soft hair, 
then took her hands and drew her back up. 
	Then it was my turn to kneel, bringing her voluptuous breasts 
to where I could kiss them. My finger slipped between her slightly 
parted legs and she shivered, but not from cold. She drew a deep 
breath and released it with a sigh of pleasure, then cupped her 
breasts, offering me the chance to suck and nibble both crinkly 
nipples at once. 
	"Neek wees," she said. "If you keep that up, I'm going to fall 
over." 
	"Do you want to go inside?" I asked, looking up into her eyes.
   	For an answer, she stepped away and grabbed the long cushion 
from the wooden frame of the chaise. Laying it flat on the 
unfriendly deck to form an impromptu bed, she invited me to join 
her there, turning and kneeling on all fours, soft breasts hanging 
free. I moved behind her and entered her gently, slowly pulling 
her back onto my cock until its full length was buried in her 
ready slit. 
	"So deep," she breathed. 
	We began to move together, with exquisite deliberation, as 
though trying to prolong each moment, each sensation. I held her 
by her hips and made my cock squirm inside her, then began to push 
into her with short strokes and a slowly building rhythm. 
	Turning her head to one side, she lowered her shoulders to the 
cushion, which arched her back, pointed her ass high, and allowed 
me even deeper entry. From that position, she reached back between 
her legs to stroke my balls, to feel the shaft of my slippery cock 
sliding into her, to trace ever-faster circles on her clit. She 
came quietly, sudddenly, her orgasm a ripple of hard contractions 
and a warm wave of pink energy that flooded through both of us and 
coaxed my release from me. 
	Somehow we managed to cuddle together on the narrow cushion, 
savoring the halo of warmth that enfolded us. "So nice," she said, 
the words almost a purr. "Kelly has good taste."
	I had to know. "Did you two talk?"
	"About you?" Cassie asked. "Of course. Did you think I would 
have done this behind her back?"
	"No--"
	"I asked her if you two had an open relationship," Cassie 
said. "She said not yet, but that if I was interested she couldn't 
think of anyone better to initiate one than me. It's not easy to 
share, you know. It's not easy to trust. But if you can -- what a 
wonderful gift! I hope you know how much she loves you."
	"I do."
	"She's a terrific lady," Cassie said, snuggling closer. "You'd 
better take care of her."
	"Count on it."
	"But just this moment you can take care of me," she added with 
a twinkle and a smile. "Because that was nice enough that I'd like 
to try it again."
		#	
	That was the beginning. About six weeks later, one of Kelly's 
oldest and hottest fantasies -- enjoying the attentions of two men 
at once -- became a memorable reality. Not a payback, but a gift 
in kind, offered in the same spirit. And we've committed ourselves 
to staying open to further outside encounters. As Cassie said, 
it's not easy. It takes being strong, in yourself and in your love 
for the other. But it's worth it, because, as I learned from Kelly 
that day, the gift of pleasure is a precious one, and one that can 
be given again and again.

==================================================================
A version of this story was published by VARIATIONS in May, 1989
as IN THE SWEET SPIRIT OF LOVE by Craig Dudley. This is the
original unedited text, as the author meant it to be read.
==================================================================
If you enjoyed this story and would like to help inspire the
author in his creative endeavors or his personal life, you're
welcome to send something erotic--a favorite photo, a hot letter
or story, an explicit GIF or two--to:
                       Mike Hudson
                       P.O. Box 22066
                       Lansing, MI 48909-2066
My tastes are diverse--don't be afraid to be as wild as your own
fantasies (or your own experiences) allow. And please let me know
where you found this file...I'm curious to see how far these
stories will wander through the BBS world.
==================================================================
The Writer's Choice Bedtime Story Series:
	BEDTIME1 --  Odyssey of Submission (B&D)
	BEDTIME2 --  Special Friends (lesbian)
	BEDTIME3 --  A Memory of Three (two women/one man)
	BEDTIME4 --  A Wife Buys A Mistress (female domination)
	BEDTIME5 --  The Gift of Pleasure (open relationship)
	BEDTIME6 --  The Mistress's Secret (female domination)
	BEDTIME7 --  Sweet Slave (B&D)
	BEDTIME8 --  Turnabout (bisexual/dildo play)
====================Posting Date: July 1, 1992====================

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