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                  /)|     KRISTEN'S BOOKSHELF    |(\
                 / )|         DIRECTORIES        |( \
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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 o o o
o  	This part of my collection offers a very wide variety of stories. o
o  They have been submitted by people from all over the world.  Also from o
o  alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups). There is no particular order to this     o
o  section of my collection,  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 be typed o
o  therefore I don't type things myself." I think it's a lot more fun to  o
o  browse around and find 'little' surprises,  and topics that you might  o
o  not have even thought of looking for. I hope you enjoy your time among o
o  Kristen's book shelf directories.                                      o
o   	Lest we forget!!!  This story was produced as adult entertainment o
o  and should not be read by minors.  Thank you, 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 o o o o

An Ideal Evening (MF, rom)
by Anonymous (c) 1991

**

    The day starts as any other, except for the fact that I can't
concentrate.  It's been a long haul for this software I'm developing
and the stress of overtime has taken it's toll on me.  The time passes
very slowly as I mold this design into shape.  I can't wait until 2:30
rolls around.

    As I pass the day, I continually open this one drawer in my desk,
and stare at your picture on the desk hutch.  The picture is one of
your devilish smiles and reveals a part of you which is undeniably
fantastic.  In the drawer is a plane ticket to Boston.  The flight
leaves at 4:30, with a connection in Detroit at 5:15.  I can't wait.

    Time finally passes and my boss tells me to have a good time as
put on my jean jacket and head for the door.  I beam and say "I will,
definitely".  I run out to the parking lot and hop into the car.

    The engine barks as I turn the key, and I let the clutch out
quickly as the tires give that all too familiar chirp.  I'm in motion,
heading toward O'Hare.  The usual speed on these excursions is about
90.  I'm too wired and cannot slow down, I've got 800 miles to go
today.

    Check-in at Northwest comes without a hitch, and I try to find a
suitable magazine to read enroute.  I pick up an issue of Playboy and
head toward the gate.  The plane is late (It's Northwest, remember?)
and I sit back and stare out window at taxiway.

    I begin to daydream.  I remember the nights we spent in your
apartment with strawberries and whipped cream.  The memories are so
vivid I can smell the fresh strawberries.  Yes, I can surely say I've
never been obsessed by a woman like you before.  And for good reason.

    I wake to a very fat woman drinking a large strawberry margarita
and looking quite puzzled at me.  I regain composure, nonchalantly
adjust the tightening feeling in my shorts.  Slowly, and without
notice, I slip away.  The speaker buzzes with the last call of my
flight.  I get to the gate, and board.

    The thing that gets me about airplanes is the feeling of being a
sardine in a large aluminum can.  Luckily the seats in my row are
unoccupied.  The plane bumps it's way down the runway, and with great
force, lurches toward the sky.  After the seatbelt light snuffs out I
raise the armrests, raise my feet, and relax while cracking open the
magazine I bought.  The stewardess brings a few rum & cokes as I look
at what Jerry Falwell likes to ban at 7-Eleven.

    I begin to turn pages and see women who are extremely plastic,
similar to those you see at a yuppie bar.  I'm thinking that nothing
is better than what I will have in a few hours, especially since the
real thing is better than any wax paper.  Yep, you've definitely got
me hooked.  You make love like no other woman before.

    The plane begins it's descent into Detroit Metro.  I pop the last
ice cube from the Rum & Coke in my mouth.  I look out and see town of
my birthplace as the landing gear drop.  The plane bumps to a stop in
the gate and I can hardly wait to get out of this oversize tin-can.

    Metro Airport looks the same as it was when I was a kid.  New
Oldsmobiles adorn the walkways enticing the passerby to stop and look.
I look at my watch.  A fifty minute layover, but only 3 hours away
from the ultimate pleasures of life.  I sit and watch people pass by.

    My vivid imagination gets the best of me, and I begin to play spy
in my head.  The only difference is the fact I am spying on you.  I
peer through a venetian blind to see you wearing the wonderful gift I
bought from Victoria's Secrets.  It perfectly accentuates the firmness
of your boobs, and the wonderful shape of your fine derriere.  I think
of the way your beautiful legs wrap around my hips...

    I shake the dreams from my head as I look at the clock.  It's time
to board the plane.  I find myself in similar situation on the way to
Boston, but this time the plane is packed tight.

    The plane lands at Logan, and there is a wait for the plane to be
gated.  The wait is driving me crazy.  I grab my jacket and head for
the door as soon as it opens.  I quickly run up the gateway, and get
past the crowd.

    I see you from behind and you are longingly looking for me.
Quietly, I run up to you and grab you from behind.  You turn, and for
the first time in what seemed like ages, we kiss.  As soft and as
beautiful as I remember, your warm body next to mine.  I conceal my
excitement from the public by holding my jacket in front of me.

    Hand-in-Hand, we walk to your car.  The feeling of your hand is
almost electric and the warmth is amazing.  Once inside the car, we
kiss, and I put my long tongue down your throat.  I think to myself
that I can't wait to put my tongue in other places.

    Playfully, we drive back to your apartment out in the sticks.  The
door opens and I hold you tightly in my arms.  You are quite special
to me.  We shed our clothes rather quickly and hop onto a new
waterbed.  The warm makes my back feel nice and loose after a long
flight.

    I slowly begin to run my fingers across your entire body.  As my
fingers run across your nipples they become hard to the touch.  I
caress the inside of your thighs and can feel the heat of the passion
you are now feeling.  I find myself rock hard and larger than I have
ever felt before.

    Quite slowly, I replace my hands with my tongue.  I run the length
of your back, and then cross your stomach.  Quickly I dive down to the
object of my desire as my soft fingertips run across your chest.  I
lunge my tongue across the tightness of what makes me so crazy about
you.  At first you moan, then you begin to scream softly with
excitement.  I continue until you can no longer take it anymore.

    You implore me to come inside you. I straddle up the bed, and feel
what I have longed so much for. As I enter you ever so slowly, I feel
the special ability you have to tighten in places that make pleasure
an addiction.

    We move from one part of the large bed to another switching
positions after one of us has been spent.  I feel as though I can go
no more, and you can continually get me "up" for the occasion.  I once
again feel complete, and I feel very content to sleep with you in my
arms tonight.

