From: --SeebS-- (seebachp@thor.acc.stolaf.edu)
Subject: Another cheap story... 
Newsgroups: alt.sex
View: Complete Thread (5 articles) | Original Format 
Date: 1989-11-10 00:04:09 PST 
 

  There are times when sex seems to loose its thrill. Taxes, midterms, and
abstract algebra tend to get in the way, and it's hard to feel romantic
with a five-page paper due. But maybe it's about time to give up on the
fucking (figuratively) school shit for a while and get in a bit of romance?

  We start with dinner at McDonalds. Not the healthiest or most romantic, but
at least it's better than eating in the caf again. And if you get an extra
strawberry milkshake before you leave, all the better. It's early October here,
but there's no real trouble with the weather. Such luck - it must be an omen.

  One of the nice things about St. Olaf is the fields. All the athletic
fields are basically unlit. (The rest of the campus, after a rape scare a
while ago, is well lit. Aww.) And there's a lot of space out there. We walk
down the hill, across a field, and down another hill. The moon is full, and
we can both see reasonably well. There are advantages to the skulking lifestyle.

  We sit down, with the moon behind us, and hold hands. As always, I end up
sitting on the left. Probably because I'm right-handed. We talk, and the
conversation finds itself drawn to upcoming philosophy papers, and roots of
real-valued functions. In light of the apparent impossibility of romantic
conversation, we simply kiss. And, for those who don't know, it's nearly
impossible to kiss *about* something. And the kisses are nice. Of course, we
don't know each other nearly well enough to be kissing on the lips. (Yeah.
Right.) So instead we start on the cheeks. For whatever reason, kisses have
to be on the left cheek. It's just not right to kiss the other one. But
the kisses are invariably drawn in to the nose. And then around the eyes in
a figure eight. Oops - got the lips. Oh, well, if you're going to screw it
up, do it right.

  The great thing about people who know you is they know what you like. And
one of the things I like is the flavor of peanut butter cups. Eating one
beforehand was a stroke of genius. Speaking of strokes, she seems to have
learned to purr when you pet her. (We're talking head and neck, here. Stop
letting your minds get ahead of my typing.) And it's about time for us
to lie down now. So we do. And after all, now we can use the hands that were
holding us up for ... other purposes.

  I'll admit it. I've always been sort of affected by the social attitude
that breasts are sexy. Now, I also know that it's not female-specific; after
all, the nerves are there anyway. But I have this feline mentality about sex -
sort of like a kitten with a ball of yarn. So I have this sort of attraction
to breasts - they're fun to play with. And play with them I do. And she's
trying to play with mine, too. It's just a bit harder, becuase there's less
to play with. But the effect is similar. Somehow, in the ensuing shuffle,
the shoes are ditched. The wonders of life.

  I slide my hand up her back, just as a distraction tactic for getting
the other one up her front. Damn. She noticed. On the other hand, she doesn't
seem to mind much. Might as well be thankful for small blessings. Or large
ones - like her removing that annoying shirt. And larger ones, like what's
under it. (Ok, so maybe I exaggerate. And maybe it's cheesy. But humor is
the essence of life, if not rec.humor.) And it's time to lick a bit lower.

  Now, if this were normal alt.sex stuff, either we'd:
1] Go on to petting, oral sex, and then intercourse, and then oral sex, and
then intercourse, and then "I hope you liked my fantasy."
2] just say " to be continued." (Same bat-time, ...)
But just to be different, and well aware that we were going to be doing
this (in some ways) in front of more than 50,000 people. (Head rush...),
we decided to be really different, and go straight to the sex. Since we
haven't yet done the standard, late-fourth-to-early-sixth paragraph removal
of our pants, ...

  About here we realized that we were, as it happens, not going to last
through all the "midway through the story" stuff, so we decided to just fuck
like rabid weasels. So she unbuttoned her jeans (I *hate* button-flys. They
take too long.) and I undid mine, and the rest is something so fucking
predictable it is better left unsung. But I don't know, don't really care,
so I inserted my penis in her vagina (Bet you ain't heard it described that
way since Sex Ed...) and did the pelvic thruu-ust, until... But you know
the rest.

  Anyway, we now felt somewhat more relaxed. Once again, about here we're
supposed to kiss, go into oral sex, and then fuck again. But, being the
rebels without a cause (So much for *that* argument for the existance of
God...) that we are, we decided to go another way. Instead of "she kissed
me again until I got hard..." we went for "I kissed her until she was hot
again..." Much more fun, in my estimation. And, of course, somewhere in here
we did manage the obligatory strip. (Dissapointed? email me. We'll do without
next time...) And we cuddled for a while. And fondled each other lovingly.
(Certainly easier than doing it malevolantly.) And after a while she started
to rub against me. Did anyone expect that? Ok, now keep your hands up if you
expected me to harden up again. Hah, fooled ya! Here, we go for the finger-
fuck, which hasn't been used in a story in about 3 months, except perhaps
for ones I didn't have time to read. And, of course, this being an alt.sex
story (tm), I was so expert and, perhaps, deft, that she came quickly and
violently, and my hand was soaked, right? Wrong. Instead, I just sort of
put in a couple of fingers and wiggled them for a while. And no, she didn't
come n+1 times. Just once, after about 5 minutes. But she enjoyed it, which
is the whole point. And then, instead of giving me the predictable <whatever>
job, she just turned around, and rolled over on me. I was, as always, a bit
confused, so she just humped me for a while. (Yes, by now I was aroused
enough for this to work.) And then we both came again. At the same time.
(You can't miss all the cliches...)

  Anyway, then we cleaned up. (Foresight here: Bring paper towels along.
What a concept.) And put on our clothes. And walked back, right? Of course
not. We walked into the woods up on the hill, stripped again, and started
kissing. And fondling. And this is where we started on the typical stuff.
It all started because I started kissing her belly button, and just went
lower. And, of course, this being alt.sex, we did 69 for a while. In fact,
about ten minutes later we stopped, mostly because neither of us was all that
interested in it anymore. Strange. And then we just held hands and stared at
the stars (the few we could see through the trees - bet you didn't expect
me to think of that.) for a while. And then, we fucked again. Just to be
typical. And cleaned up again. (Lots of paper towels, actually.) And got
dressed, and went home. Or to her apartment, really. And then I offered to
tuck her in. (Habit I picked up from another 'friend'.) And, of course,
we did it again, right? Wrong. Again. I just gave her a nice, no-ulterior-
motives backrub, and then we kissed (french, of course) good night, and
then I walked home. And then I fed my fish, turned off the fish tank lights,
and went to bed.

  And the next day, we both flunked quizzes. Can't have it all.

--SeebS--
Kilroy the Prophet...        Anonymous posting service here...
seebachp@thor.acc.stolaf.edu 		Disclaimer: Love you too...
"Rape my mind and destroy my feelings, don't tell me what to do.
  I don't care now, 'cause I'm on my side, and I can see through you" --Mt
--SeebS-- (Peter Seebach)       The One The Only Thank God!
