Subject: STORY:"Stef" by Dirty Dawg
From: drambo@cloud9.net (Dawson Rambo)

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                    "Stef" By Dirty Dawg
                            -1-

   My name is Patrick, and this is my story. It's not easy
attaining the age of 27 in today's world and still remain a virgin,
but somehow, I'd managed it. It wasn't as though I never dated or
never had girlfriends, it was just that I didn't know how to take
any of my relationships through to that final intimacy. Up until
Stephanie came into my life, I'd been in love three times, and each
time I was betrayed by the woman I loved.

   The first time she left me for my then-best friend. They later
got married, and I attended the wedding. I can think of many things
that are hard for someone to do, but standing in the church
watching Susan and Paul get married was probably the hardest thing
I'd done to that point. And up until the moment she said "I do," I
actually thought she was going to stop at the last moment and come
running back into my arms.

   That, of course, was pure fantasy. In reality Susan and Paul
married and set up house in Florida, and I still keep in touch with
them. We send cards at Christmas and on birthdays and things like
that. I'm still good friends with Susan, and to a somewhat lesser
degree with Paul. The relationship is warm, although a little
strained at times. Especially when Susan calls me and tells me that
she wishes her husband was more like me in some ways. I've never
hit a woman, but I swear, sometimes I'm tempted when she starts
pulling <that> shit on me.

   Patricia was my second love, and she betrayed me also. When I
was 11, I had an accident, and as a result, my penis never fully
developed. It's very thick...but very short, just over four inches
long. I'd listened to all the women that said that size doesn't
matter, as long as you know how to use it. When Patricia and I were
starting to get hot and heavy, she offered to suck my cock. I
agreed, and whipped it out. Needless to say, Patricia and I had a
long, frank discussion where she pointed out that yes, there were
some women to whom size did not matter, but unfortunately, she
wasn't one of them, and there was just <no> way I was going to be
able to sexually satisfy her. That, in and of itself, was painful.
But Patricia took it a step further and informed all her friends
and our coworkers of the size of my equipment, and I became but
butt of every dick joke at the office. So I had to resign, and move
away to start over again.

   So, by this time, I'm beginning to think that women are, in
general, evil incarnate.

   Then I met Melissa. Melissa's betrayal was the hardest, because
she gave me the most hope for a real relationship. She only
pretended to like me and want to go out with me because she knew it
would drive her boyfriend insane. She rebuffed my clumsy attempts
at intimacy, and only wanted to be seen with me at bars and places
she knew Jason would be hanging out at. When I discovered the
truth, I resigned myself to the fact that I would probably be alone
for the rest of my life.

   I thought a lot about why women didn't want to be with me, and
I could never put a finger on why. I'm not handsome...but I'm
nowhere near ugly, either. I'm just sort of average. I'm about five
feet ten inches, again, not too tall nor too short. I'm fairly
smart, but I'm not an egghead. I'm kind of funny, in my own wry
way, but I'm not the life of the party...but I'm not a deadbeat
either. I'm an electronics engineer for a defense contractor, so I
make a good buck, but I'm not rich. It just seemed like I fell
through the social cracks everywhere I turned.

   And then Stephanie came into my life. A large project came up at
work, a classified design regarding a new radio. For obvious
reasons, I can't to into the specifics of it, but I can say that it
looked like I was going to be putting some long nights and weekends
for about a year. The Defense Department didn't want a lot of
people on this project because of the sensitivity, so I'd be the
only engineer. Actually, I was looking forward to the distraction
of work. That way, I couldn't sit at home at night and watch TV.
Because on TV, all I saw were lovely women and handsome men falling
in love and making love and doing all sorts of wonderful, sexy
things to each other...and it was getting to the point where when
I saw two people kissing on TV I felt an actual physical ache in
the middle of my chest, and a strange tightening in my face and
around my eyes. It was annoying and childish, but I couldn't help
it. So, the idea of spending several straight months in the vault
(the secure area at work,) was not that intimidating or daunting.

   Then Stephanie arrived. Management had decided that I needed an
administrative assistant, and Stephanie was hired. She had the
proper security clearences from her time served in the Navy, so
there was no problem there. I was informed via memo that I had a
new assistant coming, and I notcied that it was a female. My only
experience with cleared, engineer-type adminstrative assistants
told me that she probably wouldn't be all that good looking, and
would most likely have a body-odor problem. (Don't ask me
why...they just seem to, that's all...) I was not prepared for what
greeted me the following Monday when I stepped into the vault.

   Our offices were actually a suite of two offices with a
reception area that led in from the hallway. There was a cipher
lock on the door ( a cipher lock is a lock that has five buttons
instead of keys; you press the buttons in the correct order, first
time, every time, or some heavily armed, no-nonsense US Marines
appear and start asking tough questions while pointing bayonets-
fixed loaded weapons at you...) and when I pushed it open,
clutching my briefcase in one hand and my brown-bag lunch in the
other, I was greeted with an impressive view of a tight little ass
staring me right in the face.

   I straightened up and looked harder. She was short, about five
five, and had short light brown hair cut in a pageboy. She was
wearing a business dress and heels, and looked very ladylike from
the rear. I couldn't tell what her face looked like, but from this
distance I was very favorably impressed.

   She heard me standing there (?!) and turned to face me, a small
smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

   "Patrick?" she asked. Silently, I nodded. Her grin grew. "I'm
Stephanie," she said, walking over and offering me her hand. "I'm
your new assistant." Again, all I did was nod silently.

   "Here," she offered, "let me take that." She reached out and
took my lunchbag. "I'll just put it in the fridge." She left me
standing there as I watched her walk away. I took a moment to study
my own feelings. She was not gorgeous by cover-girl standards, but
there was a farm-girl freshness to her face that I found very
exciting and beautiful. She looked like the girl-next-door and your
best friend's sister and a farmer's daughter all rolled up into
one. She wore horn- rimmed glasses that did nothing to hide her
incredible blue eyes. (Blue eyed brunetts are always a turn on.)
And she had a very winning, very engaging smile. Suddenely I knew
that the next year was not going to be the cakewalk that I'd
thought it was going to be.

   Because I knew I was attracted to her, and at the same time that
realization hit me, another one did, telling me that there was no
way she was going to be attracted to me. Which meant, of course,
that I was in for a year of agonizing heartbreak and heartache, and
that at the end of it all I would have to show for it would be
another female 'friend.'

   But that's not what happened. No indeedee. It's true that I fell
painfully, desperately, quietly in love with Stef. We became
friends, and as friends do, we talked. She told me of the heartache
in her own personal life, of being used and abused by her
boyfriends, and that she had decided to forgo personal
relationships for a while and concentrate on her job. I could fully
understand that idea, and tried to support her as best I could.

   The constant long hours bred a familarity between us that was
both gratifying and disconcerting at the same time. I felt closer
to her as a person, as a friend, than I ever had to anyone else.
But I also wanted to get closer, much closer, and had no idea how
to bring that about. We shared many long, deep conversations about
work and life and love and The Meaning Of It All, but we always
seemed to avoid the main topic, which was us.

   She all but moved into my office, so as to help me better. We
spent close to eighteen hours a day together, working on the
project. Blueprints and printouts and computers were spread all
over the office, and we spent more time there than anywhere else.
We stopped dressing in business attire and took to wearing jeans
and sneakers and polo shirts. Since this was a classified project,
no one was allowed access to the office, and in fact, we could have
taken weeks at a time off and not have been noticed since we
arrived before anyone else and left long after the building was
empty. We created, in effect, our own little world. We were cut off
from the rest of the world because we couldn't get TV or radio
reception inside the EMS-shielded office. We did play tapes and
CD's though.

   And as the time went by, we got closer still. Stef would stand
over my shoulder as I worked, watching my efforts and making small
comments. Although she didn't have a degree in engineering, she had
a wonderfully sharp mind and made frequent suggestions that helped
the project reach fruition closer than expected.

   It was during the last months that things started to get weird.
She started getting in my way, so to speak. Not emotionally or
mentally, but physically. I would lean back at my desk, and instead
of moving away as she normally would, I instead bumped into her
boob, or her butt. She would stand very close to me when talking,
so close that she had to look up at me. I found myself getting lost
in her eyes more than once.

   And then it happened. Stef started seeing someone on the side.
She asked for some time off one weekend, and I asked her why. We
used to spend most of Saturday and Sunday at the office, working
hard to bring the project in under time and under budget. Her
request caught me off guard, and when she told me that she had met
someone and that he had asked her out on a date...something inside
me quietly broke and died. I nodded and told her that of course she
could have the time off, and that I hoped everything went
wonderfully.

   That wasn't completely true, though. Of course, I wanted her to
be happy, above all else, that's all I wanted. But I wanted to be
the person to make her happy, not some nameless and faceless suitor
that had snuck up behind me and stolen the woman that I...

   What? Love? Yes...I can say that. I loved Stef by that point. It
was a quiet, warm kind of love, not the glandular infatuation that
had marked most of my personal relationships. I deeply cared for
Stef as a person, and I was wildly attracted to her as a man. If
that's not the best mixture for a lasting relationship, then I
didn't know what was.

   Well, yes, I did. I knew that she had to feel the same way about
me for it work. One-way love just doesn't ever make it; take it
from me, I know.

   So, Stef went off on her date. I worked until almost midnight
that night, and came home to a ringing phone. I decided to let the
machine answer it. I wasn't sure who it was, but I had an idea.
Stef and I shared everything, and if the date went half as well as
I expected it to, I was sure that it was Stef calling to tell me
how much fun she had. And truth be told, as much as I wanted to
share that with her, take happiness in her joy, I just wasn't up to
it at that point.

   The machine clicked on, and I heard my announcement. The beep
was long and loud, and then there was...silence. A good ten seconds
of silence. And then a tear-choked voice issued from the speaker.

   "Patrick? Are you there?" She hitched a sob out, and then she
really started to cry. I was across the room in a hearbeat,
snatching the phone up in my hand at the same time I thumbed the
machine off.

   "I'm here, Stef," I said softly. "What's wrong?" Well, what the
hell else could be wrong? Stef's would-be suitor had turned out to
be an octopus with eleven hands and one thought on his mind:
Getting those slimy tentacles on Stef's body. She had spent most of
the date fighting him off.

   "Why?" she asked. "Why are they all jerks?"

   "I have an idea," I said softly. I glanced at my watch. It was
just after twelve-thirty. The night was still young. "What say I
grab a pint out of the freezer and come on over? We can talk about
it."

   There was a long moment, and then Stef agreed. We hung up. I ran
to the freezer and grabbed a pint of Chocolate-Chip Cookie Dough
from my two favorite men: Ben & Jerry. I jumped into my Jeep and
headed over to Stef's place.

                  * * * * * * * * * * * * *
                             -2-

    Stef answered the door wearing a college T-shirt and track
shorts, her face devoid of any makeup. Her eyes were red and puffy
from crying, but she never looked better to me: Fresh and clean and
so damn beautiful. My heart went out to her, and I wanted to break
the neck of her thoughtless date. If he had given her a little more
time, let her go at her own pace, she might have ended up with one
of the most wonderful women in the world. But he thought with the
little head instead of the big one, and he'd hurt her. That earned
him a pretty high position on my shit list.

   Stef leaned in and threw her arms around my neck. "Thanks for
coming," she whispered in my ear, her breath tickling the hair on
my neck. I squeezed back, and for the first time, I felt the entire
length of her body against mine. She was warm and soft, and yes,
perfect.

   We moved inside to the living room, pried the top off the pint,
and dug in with two spoons. We started talking about her date. It
had started off well enough: Dinner and drinks at a local bistro.
But from the beginning, Stef had known that something was up. He
sat way, way too close, and took every opportunity to touch her.
His hands were on her legs, on her back, squeezing her
shoulder...Steff was uncomfortable from the start.

   And it only got worse from there. By the end of the night, after
dancing (where he had placed both hands on her butt and squeezed
like he was testing melon freshness at the supermarket,) they had
gotten into a sort-of-fight in the car. He kept insisting that she
'owed' him something for all the money he had laid out for the
night. She had managed to get away, and had told him never, ever to
call her again. He'd called her a dirty name and roared off in his
car.

   After she was done telling me the story, Steff fell silent. The
ice cream was long since gone, and we shared a comfortable silence
known only to close friends. We were sitting on opposite ends of
the couch, the extra cushion between us.

   "Why can't guys be...nice?" she asked.

   "Some are," I lamely offered.

   "I know," she whispered. I caught movement out of the corner of
my eye. Stef's hand was in the middle of the cushion, palm up. It
was a silent invitation, and I stared at it for a long, quiet
moment. I raised my eyes to hers, and saw her silently pleading
with me. Slowly, agonozingly, I reached out my hand and took hers.

   We stayed that way for half an hour, just holding hands. Her
fingers tickled the skin of my palm every so often. It sent bolts
of electricity shooting up my arm and into my heart. I wasn't quite
sure what was happening...but I knew what I wanted to happen. A
thousand thoughts were running through my mind. I was frozen in
indecision.

   So Stef made up my mind for me. She came across the couch at me,
slowly, steadily. I saw the look on her face...it was serious, but
she had a far-away quality in her eyes that I just couldn't place.
Our faces were inches apart, and then centimeters; I could feel her
breath on my lips, and then she was kissing me...softly at first.
It was a bird's kiss, a gentle little brush, nothing more.

   She backed off a bit, her steady gaze finding mine. "I've been
thinking about that kiss for six months," she whispered. And then
she came at me again, her lips slightly open this time. She sucked
my bottom one, chewing it gently. The floodgates inside me opened,
and my mouth soon followed. The kiss was incredibly soft and
slightly moist. Her mouth worked against mine, and then I felt the
slick wedge of her tongue sliding into my mouth, and I sucked at it
softly.

   She moved towards me, her body reaching for mine, and then we
were in each other's arms. Stef's body folded against mine
perfectly, and I felt the pressure of her breasts against my chest.
It was a wonderful feeling, and I wanted it to last the entire
night. My hands were on her back, lightly stroking her body through
the T-shirt. Steff reached behind her and grabbed my by the
fingers, and then slowly slid my hand around until it was between
us, my palm facing my chest. She lifted my hand, running the backs
of my fingers over her breast. I was suddenely aware that Stef was
not wearing a bra.

   "Touch me," she whispered softly. "Please, Pat, touch me." No
one had ever called me Pat before. I liked the way it sounded
coming out of her mouth. I kissed her a little harder, trying to
telegraph my desire and hunger for her, for her body, for this new
intimacy that we were about to share.

   I rotated my wrist and touched a female breast for the first
time in my life. I was amazed; it felt so perfect in my hand. My
thumb scraped her nipple..once...twice, and she gasped into my
mouth. I grinned around the kiss and tried it again. Stef moaned,
kissing me harder, reaching for my tongue with hers.

   We necked like that, my hand on her breast, her hands on my
shoulders, for what seemed an eternity. Finally, she broke the kiss
and looked at me, an incredibly serious expression on her face.
"You can... underneath...if you want."

   I smiled to show her that I understood the incredibly precious
and special gift she was giving me. Slowly, my hand slid down to
the hem of her shirt, and then under. I felt the smooth, warm skin
of her abdomen, and stopped a moment to tickle her bellybutton. She
giggled into my mouth, and then I slid my hand up, higher. I wasn't
sure what I was about to discover, I only knew that I wanted to.

   My hand closed around Stef's soft, warm breast, and I felt her
gasp at that first contact. I held her breast like a delicate
porcelin artifact, and slowly began to stroke and squeeze it. Stef
moaned harder into my mouth, and before I knew it, her hand was in
my lap, tracing the outline of my need through my pants. Her
fingers were unsure and a little clumsy, but her touch was pure
passion and electricity.

   "Come with me," Stef suddenely whispered. She stood in front of
me, shyly offering me her hand. Standing, I took it, and followed
her back to the bedroom. It was decorated in soft pastels, and the
bed dominated the room. It was a king-size platform job, and it
looked extremely comfortable and soft. Stef turned and pushed me
until I was sitting on it, and then stepped between my legs,
draping her arms over my shoulders. I snaked my own arms around her
waist and drew her to me, kissing her abdomen through the shirt.

   "Make me naked for you," she breathed. My hands slid under the
hem of her shirt again, both of them this time, and I made my way
up her body until I had both breats in my hands. Stef moaned at my
touch, low, in her throat, like a cat purring, as she felt my
fingers gently stroking her soft skin.

   I suddenely wanted to see her nude, naked before me, hungry and
wanting. The passion that I'd been feeling for her was welling up
again, threatening to burst forth and overwhelm us both. I slid the
T- shirt up and over her shoulders, and smiled as I saw Stef's
naked breasts for the first time; they were perfect, as only hers
could ever be. They jiggled slightly with her movments, the pink
little nipples looking enticing and delicious. I leaned foward and
captured one in my mouth, lashing at it with my tongue.

   Stef gasped, her fingers winding in my hair, pulling my face
harder against her body. I alternated breasts, my hands moving to
her buttocks, squeezing them, my thumbs hooking in the waistband
and slowly lowering them over her gently flaring hips. The fell at
her feet, and she daintly stepped out of them, using my shoulders
for support.

   She stood before me, wearing only a tiny pair of white cotton
panties; yes, I know they sound boring as I tell it to you, but let
me assure you that it was one of the sexiest sights I have ever
seen. Stef was eying me, sexily biting her bottom lip as she
awiated my approval.

   I leaned in and kissed her abdomen, inhaling her scent. "You're
gorgeous," I whispered, and I felt her smile in appreciation. Then
it was my turn. I put her on the bed, softly, gently, and stood off
to the side. My shirt came off in a flash, and then my pants, and
my shoes and socks. I had only my light-blue boxers on as I joined
her on the bed.

   We melted together, our mouths and hands and lips and tongues
finding each other. I began to hear a buzzing in my ear as I
realized what I was about to do; should I tell her of my
inexperience with women? Or should I forge ahead and just try to
figure it out as I went? I decided that discretion was the better
part of valor, and if she were to ask me later, I'd confess that
she was the first woman that I'd ever been with.

   My fingers had been lightly tracing Stef's thighs; I was barely
touching her, and I could feel the gooseflesh on her legs, so I
figured i was doing something right.

   I started kissing her throat, moving slowly down her body,
taking a few moments to completely kiss and nuzzle her breats
before continuing down. I licked her belly button and then moved a
little further south, moving around until I was on my knees between
her legs. Stef was obviously aroused, and I couldn't wait to taste
her. I'd dreamed of this for so, so long, I wanted to savor every
moment.

   I started at her ankles, slowly kissing my way up her legs,
tasting her soft, satiny skin, getting ever closer to her slowly
leaking sex. I could smell her, her sex-scent filling my head and
soul with the ambrosia of her arousal. And then I was there,
lightly kissing her through the panties, licking at her sex,
feeling her tremble. I watched in amazement as her stomach muscles
did a flip- flop, and then a little wave wracked her body as I
licked at her once more.

   "Off," she said. "Take them off." I backed up and slid the
panties down her legs and smiled as I saw the dewy lips of her
mound. I was salivating, I was so hungry to taste her. I'm not
proud to admit it, but I dove in like a drowning man at an oasis.
I buried my face in her sex, licking at her fat, slick lips,
instantly loving the taste. She was musky and a little sweaty, but
it made it only that much more delicious. I started floundering
around, and then Stef's hands found my head and she guided me.

   "There," she moaned. "Right there. Lick me there." So I did as
bade and watched as I brought the woman I loved to orgasm for the
first time. I'd slid a finger inside her hot, slick tunnel, and
felt the moist walls grabbing at me as she dissolved into orgasm
again and again as I softly, gently licked her clit.

   "Inside me," Stef whispered. I did as asked again, rising from
between her legs, shedding my boxers, showing her my urgent,
throbbing need for the first time. She smiled shyly at me, reaching
for it, rubbing her thumb along my slick head. I gasped at her
touch, the feeling almost too intense to stand. If I'd thought that
was incredible, it was nothing compared to what was to come.

   Stef pulled me towards her, one hand still on my staff, the
other on the back of my neck, lowering me to her face. As she lined
me up with her entrance, I gasped as I felt her warm slickness. And
then she was guiding me inside, lifting her hips to help with the
penetration.

   I slid down her slick tunnel, gritting my teeth. The sensation
was incredible; on the one hand, I was kicking myself for waiting
so long, and on the other, I was so incredibly glad that it was
Stef who was showing me what adult physical love was all about.

   I bottomed out inside her, and Stef kissed me at that moment,
her tongue licking at the inside of my mouth.

   "I love you," she whispered. "Tonight...this is so perfect." And
then we kissed again. Slowly, I began to stroke. Stef lifted her
hips to meet me, and we fell into a sweet rhythm that made me
crazy.

   We slowly began to gain speed and depth and hunger and urgency,
and before long we were cranking right along. Stef started to gasp
and moan, and I felt her gripping me with her muscles. It was too
much for me.

   We exploded together, both of us screaming with pleasure,
release, and the ultimate realization of a long-held dream. I
collapsed on top of Stef, and then rolled over, bringing her with
me. She cuddled into the hollow of my shoulder, her hand teasing my
nipple.

   "I've dreamed of this-" I started to say, but Stef placed a
silencing finger over my lips.

   "Shh..don't say anything. Just hold me."

   I did. 
