Gratitude
By Neverlander
(c) December 2007

"Finally!" Noam said, as he finished a final edit of the story he had 
been working on for weeks.  He had poured the full measure of his 
erotic imagination into his creation, inspired by lust and self-
pleasure as he wrote.  It had been difficult work, crafting his phrases 
to provide maximum sexual excitement for his readers, and he smiled to 
imagine the sessions of sweet masturbation he sincerely hoped his work 
would lead to.  It afforded him great satisfaction to be able to excite 
and give pleasure to other men who enjoyed the same kinds of wicked 
fantasies that aroused him.

Logging into his favorite story site, "All Sex - Stories to Ravish", he 
sent off his latest literary baby: "The Gift of Tongues: how little 
Missy found the perfect birthday present for naughty Uncle Tim", by 
Noam de Plume.  When the upload was complete, he repaired to bed, and 
resolved to be patient while waiting for responses to his newest 
offering.  He fell asleep while pretending to be Uncle Tim...

Some time later, elsewhere in the world, a man named John came upon 
"The Gift of Tongues."  The title excited him, and his heart beat 
rapidly as he downloaded the story.  He began to read and his 
excitement grew, as did his erection, which he stroked and fondled 
gently, imagining little Missy's touch.  Every sentence stirred him, 
every erotic image deepened his arousal, and he masturbated with sweet 
abandon until, having held out quivering on the edge to the very end, 
he exploded in orgasmic bliss at the very moment when Missy brought 
lucky Uncle Tim to the same point of release with her clever, naughty 
mouth.

"Oh my God!" gasped John.  Overwhelmed with pleasure and gratitude, he 
immediately penned (well, typed, actually) a response to the author, 
detailing the excitement and pleasure he had derived from his work.  It 
was only fair to do so, he felt, and he sensed intuitively that the 
writer might share somehow in his own pleasure and arousal.  He hoped 
so, at any rate, and he hoped, too, that a correspondence might arise 
between them – and in fact such a correspondence did develop, one 
mutually exciting and enjoyable to both parties.

In another part of the world, Bubba downloaded the same story.  "Oh 
yeah!" he said upon reading the title; and, taking another swig of beer 
and wiping the fried chicken grease off his hands onto his shirt, he 
began to jerk off, rapidly and mechanically.  He came before he was 
half through -- he could jerk a lot faster than he could read.  When he 
was done he looked at the invitation to send a response to the author, 
at the bottom of the page.  He squinted and scowled, confused.  "Fuck 
that!" he belched, and reached for another beer.

In yet another place, Jerry downloaded the same story after having 
skimmed through a dozen or so others.  He began to scan it quickly.  
"Huh!" he said.  "No bra size!  The hell with that."  And without even 
reaching for his zipper he was off to download another.  He barely 
noticed the request for a response for the author, who, it was pointed 
out, was not paid for his work.  "Sucker!" Jerry sneered to himself.

And then there was Louie.  Louie stared balefully at the screen as he 
read about Missy, drooling and muttering to himself.  At the end he 
leapt up enraged, and smeared his ejaculating penis all over the 
computer monitor, bellowing, "Bitch cunt cunt bitch suck fuck!" at the 
ceiling.  He didn't notice the response section following the story.  
He just went to sit on the floor in a corner, and stared at his penis 
until it stopped oozing.  Then he lurched back to the computer.

Time went by.  Every so often Noam went to the "All Sex -- Stories to 
Ravish" site to examine the download statistics for his story.  
Initially the results were encouraging -- hundreds of people had read 
his story!  As the days went by the numbers decreased, but still -- 
hundreds!  Surely, this time, he will hear from readers.  If only one 
percent responded, well, that would be dozens!

But no -- out of hundreds of readers: one response.  It was good to hear 
from John, but -- just one?  Noam was depressed.  It took a lot of time 
to write that story.  Maybe it's not worth it.  Maybe I'll write 
another -- maybe not.  Oh, well.

Some time later, Bubba was caught in a playground trying to entice a 
little girl into the bushes with candy while he masturbated in front of 
her.  He was sent to state prison, where his ample buttocks became very 
popular with good ol' boys whose bellies were even bigger than his.  He 
stayed popular until his anus gave out, which didn't take very long, 
actually.  Couldn't get an erection after that, either.

Jerry had his fifteen minutes of fame one day when he was at a nude 
beach, clothed, watching the naked teenies go by.  Onlookers said that 
even though it was broad daylight, they could see the tiny meteor as it 
streaked out of the sky straight into Jerry's crotch, where it neatly 
and explosively vaporized his penis and testicles ("Smelled like a 
cookout!", observed one witness).  It made all the papers – maybe you 
saw it.

As for Louie -- well, Louie is still Louie, and you can't get much worse 
than that.

And John?  Well, Noam is now encouraging him to write a story of his 
own, based on an experience he had shortly after they began emailing 
each other.  It seems that one day a pair of girl scouts came to John's 
house selling cookies, and they were so overjoyed at the large order 
John placed with them, and the generous donation he gave in addition, 
that they ... well, you'll have to read the story when it's finished.

The moral:

Beware! and take care to observe
How the Gods their fair justice will serve:
   Oft those who are mindless
   Of generous kindness
In the end will get what they deserve!

----------

tim_cravin@yahoo.com
