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Subject: {ASSM} The Bargain {Anoninsac} (MF)
Date: Fri, 10 Aug 2001 19:10:01 -0400
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Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is
copyright with all rights reserved by its author
unless explicitly indicated. Author Anoninsac.
Non-commercial re-posts to ASSM or similar venues are
allowed provided copyright information remains on the
re-posted story. Please do not delete the copyright
information. No commercial reprints are authorized.

The author appreciates constructive criticism at
anoninsac@nospam.yahoo.com, remove the nospam for
e-mail address. If you read this story please let me
know what you think. Feedback is the only 'pay' ASSM
authors receive.

WARNINGS: This story depicts consensual sexual
activity between men and women. No testing on animals
was involved in the production of this story. Some of
the participants in the story may be under the age of
18. If you live in a backward society, like the United
States or Afghanistan, in which it is illegal for you
to know about sex or read sexual materials immediately
delete this from your computer and scourge yourself
with a whip for having any sexual thoughts. If you are
under the age of 18 please continue to pretend you
don't know about sex and continue to get each other
pregnant in increasing numbers so that we have more
young single mothers raising children. Don't learn
about safe sex or contraception as these are tools of
the devil. Please do not masturbate while reading this
story in public places as this can excite the
authorities into rash conduct and result in grave
consequences for you.

                The Bargain

We are never deceived; we deceive ourselves. - Goethe

He soared toward the bucket, arm outstretched, sweat
flying, a forest of arms reaching up to thwart his
flight. At the apex his hand slammed down blasting the
ball through the hoop. The stands erupted as he fell
into the pads on the upright. 

As he ran back toward his own basket, Coach was
screaming, "We're still down three. Stop 'em. We gotta
have a stop. Match up zone. Match up zone." The noise
in the arena was deafening. The De La Salle players
were coming up the floor waiting for the clock to run
down. They moved the ball around the perimeter of the
defense and as the clock ran down a De La Salle player
threw up an eighteen foot jumper that drew nothing but
net.

He took the inbound pass and raced up the court,
jumped at the three-point line draining the shot. He
looked at the scoreboard. Down two and three seconds
left. His teammates were trying to seal off the
inbounds pass. A De La Salle player broke free, took
the inbounds pass and raced up the court. 2, 1, the
buzzer sounded. He had to watch as the De La Salle
players poured onto the court celebrating their NorCal
championship. He couldn't believe it.

Coach came up to him, "I'm proud of this team and
proud of you."

"But Coach. We lost."

"We were picked to finish fifth in league. You took
this team on your back and we rode you all the way to
the championship game. We lost to De La Salle by two
points. That's a great season. I'm proud because you
gave it 100 percent all season, every game. They won,
but they didn't beat us." Coach grabbed his head in a
gesture of affection. The first he'd every shown. The
De La Salle players were coming over to shake hands
and he congratulated them. What should have been
crushing disappointment was tempered by the words from
Coach. He looked around the arena. It was a hell of a
season.

Who would have thought one year ago that he would be
playing in a championship game? He had played
basketball like it was his religion from the time he
was eight. He spent hours every day shooting,
dribbling, passing, defending. By the time he hit high
school he was the star on his team. He could shot the
lights out but was too small to be an elite player.
Fresno State sent a scout but that was it. At the end
of his junior year he started a growth spurt. By the
time his senior year started he was 6'6 tall, thin and
gangly. In the months leading up to basketball season
he filled out and got used to his body. When the
season started he quickly became a force. He was
scoring twenty-five a game and pulling down ten
boards. Teams started double teaming and then triple
teaming him. That left his teammates wide open. He had
the knack of finding them with a bullet pass. They won
league and then raced through the playoffs until they
met De La Salle. He scored thirty-two and pulled down
twelve boards against the best high school team in the
country. 

College teams noticed. In the next two weeks
scholarship offers came from dozens of colleges. He
narrowed his choices down to Stanford and Washington.
Stanford was his first choice. He'd be two hours from
home and if he blew out a knee he'd still have a
Stanford degree. That alone would open doors. 

Stanford invited him for a visit. He arrived on a
Friday night. He had dinner with Coach Montgomery and
several players. These were the guys he watched on TV
playing in March Madness. They treated him like one of
them. He started to imagine himself in cardinal and
gold. He stayed in the athletic dorm that night.

The next morning he had breakfast with the players.
After breakfast, he was introduced to a campus
hostess. She was going to show him around the Stanford
campus. Blond, blue eyed and with a killer body she
looked like she had stepped right out of a magazine.
He was intimidated. He was love struck. He was
dumbfounded that this heavenly creature was smiling
just for him.

The day was a whirlwind. He knew he was staring. He
was unable to stop himself. Images from the day were
frozen in time in his mind. The way her hair shone in
the sun and cascaded across her shoulders in the Rodin
Garden. The way her breasts moved under sweater at
lunch. The way her tight pants outlined her thighs
walking across the Quad. The way those pants hugged
her ass as it bounced with the rhythm of her walk as
he followed her up the stairs. The way those pants
outlined her pudenda as she stood and pointed at the
Science Building. He was in love with those pants. He
needed to be alone with those pants, to hold them up
to his face, to smell them as he masturbated. It was
difficult to walk with his hands in his pockets trying
to camouflage the tent in his pants. She didn't notice
when he had to bend over as he stood up from the chair
to hide his erection or turn quickly away to hide his
bulge after she touched his arm. He was dazzled by
that smile and didn't notice the mirth in her eyes.

She took him to dinner at the Student Union. He was so
nervous he could hardly eat. He was afraid to put food
in his mouth because she might ask him a question and
he wanted to be able to answer.

"Aren't you hungry?" she finally asked.

"Uh no. I mean, yeah I'm a little hungry." His mind
screamed, IDIOT!

"What?" she asked puzzled.

"Well, I'm a little hungry but, you know, the whole
day has been something and, you know, I'm not real
hungry." He looked at her with a pleading expression
that begged to be excused from the inquisition.

"Oh." She went back to eating her dinner. "For me this
is great having the department pick up the tab. I
mean, how many free dinners do I get?"

"God. You must get lots of guys who want to take you
out."

She smiled. "I think that's a compliment." She reached
over and patted his arm. He blushed. "Not as many as
you think. There's lots of girls on campus."

"But you're beautiful."

"Quit it," she said. "You're going to turn my head."

He looked down at his plate.

After dinner she walked him back to the dorm.

"Would you mind if I came up?" she asked.

"Uh no. Yeah, sure." He fumbled out his answer.

His room was on the fourth floor. As he entered he
flipped on the fluorescent lights.

"Oh, that's so bright," she said. "Isn't there a
smaller light?"

"Uh yeah. Over here." He crossed and turned on the
reading light over the desk. She turned off the
overhead light and closed the door behind her.

"That's better." She smiled that dazzling smile at
him. She walked over to the window. The lights of
Menlo Park were starting to glitter in the dusk.
"Isn't that pretty?" she asked.

"Yeah." He stood frozen. He was alone with this
creature. Alone in a college dorm room. He'd heard all
the stories about college dorms. He never really
believed them. But there she was. What should he do?
What should he say? My God! She had to be at least
twenty-one. He had a few girlfriends in school, but
there were just girls. She was a woman.
Unapproachable. Untouchable.

"Why don't you turn out that light so we can see the
lights of the city?" His fingers wouldn't work as he
fumbled to turn off the light. Finally, it clicked
off. He could see her outlined against the dim light
from the window.

"Come over here so you can see," she invited.

He walked over to the window and looked out. He had no
idea what he was looking at. "Yeah. Looks nice."

"It's so romantic. Don't you think so?" she asked half
turning toward him.

Still looking out the window he answered, "Yeah." His
mind whirled trying to think of a response. Romantic?
I should say something romantic. But what? A hand
touched his. At first he thought it an accident but
the hand stayed on his. Slowly, so as not to frighten
the hand away, he turned his wrist so that his palm
touched hers. He let his fingers curl until they began
to intertwine with hers. Her fingers interlaced with
his and pressed into his hand. He felt his pulse race.
Damn. He was holding hands with her. He was glad the
lights were down because his cock had risen again. It
was bent painfully in his pants. He couldn't move to a
more comfortable position. She might notice and that
would be beyond bearing.

"You're really a nice guy."

"You're really nice too. I mean, showing me everything
today. I know you were supposed too and all. But you
were just nice."

"Do you like me?" she asked.

His breath caught in his throat. He had to swallow the
lump before answering in a strained whisper, "Yes."

"That's good because I like you," she said with a
slight husk to her voice. This time she wasn't
smiling. The smile was replaced by a look of hunger.
He saw that hunger and was petrified. Not petrified of
the hunger but petrified of what he knew it signified.
Sexual hunger. He wanted to be consumed by that
hunger. But he knew he wouldn't be able to satisfy
this goddess standing next to him. A few fumblings in
the back seat of cars. A couple times his girlfriend
allowed him to take her top off and put his hand down
her pants. And one glorious time when he 'went all the
way' with a cheerleader who was so drunk she nearly
passed out half way through.

He was frozen his voice lost and his body unable to
move. She reached up and put her hand on his cheek. It
burned like fire and yet felt cool as ice on his skin.
She pulled his face down, down, down while she turned
her face up. Their lips touched.

He let his lips mold to hers. He found himself lost in
the kiss. Nothing else existed at that moment but her
lips touching his. It started as a soft kiss. Then her
lips began to move against his. She began to devour
his lips with hers. Then he felt soft bites and
finally her lips parted pulling his apart. He felt her
tongue rubbing against his lips as she pushed it into
his mouth. Her tongue started to dance in his mouth
spearing deep and then pulling back. He awoke from his
trance and chased her tongue with his. She retreated
and he followed. She bit down lightly on his tongue
and still he pursued her. Their tongues danced,
intertwined and then separated.

His free hand went around her and pulled her toward
him as he turned toward her. Their bodies came
together. Her breasts pressed into his chest. His
cock, at full staff, pushed into her belly. She moaned
when she felt his hardness press against her. She
released his hand and her hands seized his ass and
pulled him tighter to her body. Their tongues
continued their dance of lust. 

His hands roamed across her back. He loved the feel of
her through the sweater. Her body was under that
sweater and he could feel it give slightly under his
hands. It was warm and alive and real. So much more
exciting than the girls he looked at on the Internet
before retiring to the bathroom. He was happy to be
touching her, kissing her, feeling her. 

She broke the kiss. He felt a moment of fear. Had he
done something wrong? Had he gone too far somehow? He
looked longingly at her.

"Can I take off your shirt?" she asked. He shook his
head yes. She started to unbutton his shirt. He
watched her fingers unbutton one, then two and finally
all the buttons. She tugged the shirttail out and
pushed the shirt off his shoulders. She ran her hand
over his chest and rubbed the sparse chest hair.

"Would you like to take off my sweater?" He nodded
again. She waited a few seconds while he looked at
her. She reached out and took his hands and brought
them to the bottom of her sweater. His mind panicked
as he realized he was going to blowing it. My God! I
gotta do something. He started to tug the sweater up
then controlled himself and pulled the sweater up
gently. She raised her arms as the sweater reached her
breasts. He watched as they came into view. He saw
skin as her breasts were uncovered. His eyes were
riveted to her chest as more and more of her breasts
were exposed. The areolas then the nipples, she isn't
wearing a bra his mind shrieked, came into view. Her
face disappeared into the sweater as he hurried to
lift it off. It caught on her chin and she helped lift
it off. She took it from him and threw the sweater
onto a chair. 

His eyes were glued to her breasts. She kicked off her
sandals and his eyes followed them as they slid toward
the window. He looked back at her questioningly. She
smiled. "Why don't you take off your shoes too?" He
hurried to pull off his Nike's. She reached for the
zipper on her pants. Those pants, the lovely pants he
had watched all day. He watched as the zipper slid
down exposing her lacy panties. "Why don't you take
yours off?" she suggested. His heart racing he reached
for his zipper and yanked it down. She put her thumbs
at her waist and pushed her pants and panties down. 
He pushed his pants down bending at the waist to get
them off. As he straightened he saw her wiggling out
of her pants. He saw her bush was trimmed into a neat
vee. He kicked off his pants as she finished removing
her pants. 

His cock stood out pointing at her, proclaiming her
responsible for its condition. She took it in her hand
and led him over the bed. She gently pushed his chest
so that he sat on the bed. Kneeling between his legs
she wrapped her hands around his rigid pole and
started to slowly pump. He trembled from the
sensations. His eyes closed and the entire day's
erotic tension reached a peak. He felt the
contractions in his balls. The first contraction sent
his cum flying. 

"Shit," she muttered as the first glob of cum landed
on her tit. Then another bigger blast landed on her
chest and a third hit her belly. Another glob landed
on the floor and the last few spasms ended up on the
bed. 

His eyes flew open. "Oh Christ. I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Why?" she asked wiping her hand on a towel
that was lying on the dresser next to the bed.

"I came so quick," he answered looking panic stricken.

"You were just turned on right? I mean, I assume you
were turned on by me." She continued wiping the cum
off her tit and chest.

"Oh yeah."

"So I made you do that?" She threw the towel on the
floor.

"Yeah," he answered now with a question in his voice.

She looked into his face with that look of hunger
again, "So I turned you on so much that you came fast.
That must mean you really liked me."

"Oh yeah. I been turned on all day."

"See," she said. "That means you really must like me.
Can you get it up again?"

He shook his head yes. She looked at his cock and saw
that it was starting to bounce in rhythm to his heart
beat again. She wrapped her hand around his cock and
stroked her hand up and down. It had partially shrunk
but now reversed course and was swelling again.  He
closed his eyes as she pumped him. In a few seconds he
was hard again. 

She released his cock and his eyes flew open. "What...?"

She stood. "I'm going to get something." She walked
over to her purse, opened it and returned with a foil
wrapper. She knelt between his legs again, pulled open
the packet and produced a Trojan. That's appropriate,
she thought, a Trojan for a Stanford fuck. She put it
over his glans and unrolled it down his cock. He
watched unable to say anything as the thought rolled
through his mind. I'm going to get laid.

"Why don't you let me lay down?" He jumped out of the
bed and watched as she lay down on the bed. She bent
her legs at the knees and then let them fall apart. In
the dim light he could make out her bush and the folds
of her pussy. It was so like the pictures on the
Internet that he looked at every night. He felt some
confidence as he thought to himself, just like the
stories. I just need to do it like they do in the
stories.

"Come here." He moved over her lining up his body with
hers while holding himself up with his arms. "Kiss
me." He lowered his face until their lips touched. The
kiss melted into a more passionate kiss as her lips
parted and their tongues began a mating dance in each
other's mouth. Caught up in the passion he let his
body relax until his chest touched her tits and his
belly met hers. His cock lay on her pussy and was
rubbing against her clit. She ground her hips against
him and felt herself begin to get wet from rubbing her
clit against his cock. 

When she was sufficiently lubricated she broke the
kiss and said, "Fuck me." He moved his hips until his
cock was free of her body and lanced forward. His cock
jammed itself her into the top of her pussy.

"Uff," she grunted. "Stop." He pulled back. She
reached down trying to get her hand between them.
"Lift up." He did and she snaked her hand between
grabbing his cock. "Ok, now." He jabbed forward again
and missed to the right. 'Shit,' he thought to
himself, 'this is harder than making a three pointer.'
"Slowly lover. Let me guide you." This time he pushed
forward slowly as she seated the head of his cock at
the entrance to her vagina. He started to push forward
again. The unlubricated rubber pulled at her labia.
"Just a second." She rubbed his cock around her
opening and over her clit masturbating herself with
his cock until she had spread her wetness and the head
of his cock was wet. Seated once again in her opening
she said, "Now slowly lover." He pushed forward and
felt his cock sink into her body. He continued until
his body rested on hers. He paused lost in the
incredible feelings. He was fucking a beautiful woman.

He started pumping his cock. The feeling was
overwhelming and he sped up until he was jabbing her
like a crazed rabbit. She grabbed his ass and pulled
down. "Slower baby. Slower."

"Uh ok." He concentrated on pumping slower. Within
seconds the rhythm of his dance of lust began to
accelerate and soon he was whipping his cock into her
again. His balls tightened in the familiar pre-cum
feelings. He lost himself in the feelings. Then his
orgasm burst upon him. His balls contracted and fired
his cum as he lost fine motor control. He was
shuddering instead of stroking as his balls emptied
their load into the rubber. He was drained of all
energy.  He fell against her. 

She lay under him. "You're heavy." 

"Sorry." He lifted himself up and his cock plopped out
of her. He sat back against the wall.

She sat up and got off the bed. She grabbed the towel
and cleaned herself. She looked over at him still
brain drained on the bed. "That was wonderful," she
said.

"God. I never felt like that before."

She smiled, "I'm glad sweetie."

He looked down at his cock and the rubber. "What do I
do with this?"

She looked puzzled for a second and then with a hint
of exasperation, "Throw it away." He looked around the
room. She reached into her purse and took out some
Kleenex. "Wrap it in this and throw it in the trash."

She turned her back as he struggled to remove the
Trojan and throw it in the trash. She started to
dress.

"Are you going?" he asked.

"Yeah. I have to go. I have a lot of homework to do
before tomorrow. I hope you come here in the fall. If
you play here maybe we can get together again. Would
you like that?"

"Really? You mean we could get together?" he asked
rising from the bed. He fidgeted unsure whether he
should kiss her, open the door or what.

"Sure. I had fun today. They said something about a
letter of intent. Do you have to do something?"

"Yeah. I have to sign it to come here," he said.

"I hope you do. I'd like to see you again," as she put
her sweater back on and slipped into her shoes. She
straightened out her clothes, picked up her purse and
walked over to him. She kissed him and said, "Thank
you. You were wonderful." She smiled one last time
just for him. She turned for the door.

"I'll see you next year," he said as she opened the
door. 

She paused, looked back and blew him a kiss. "I'm
looking forward to it," and shut the door behind.

He watched the door for a while and then turned and
fell into the bed.

She walked across campus to the parking lot. He's not
a bad kid she thought. Terrible lover. What a project
he'd be to turn into a good lover.

He lay in the bed thinking about the day. He had laid
a real woman. Not one of the imaginary women he
thought about as he jerked off every night. A real
flesh and blood woman. And next year, if he came to
Stanford he might be able to make love to her every
night instead of jacking off. He was supposed to tour
the athletic facilities tomorrow, the gym, weight room
things like that. His mind returned to her. He knew
his decision was made. He was already formulating his
arguments. Coach Montgomery taught great fundamentals.
Stanford was a great university. She floated through
his mind. He'd have a top quality education. He saw
her face. He'd be playing in the Pac 10 and against
the best players. He'd be close to home. He saw her
breasts. Stanford was the best choice for basketball
and education.

Once in her car she grabbed her cell phone from the
glove compartment and dialed. 

Across campus the director of recruiting picked up her
phone, "Hello?"

"Hi. It's me."

"Oh hi. How'd it go?"

"Fine. He's a nice kid. I took him up to his room
and..."

"I don't need to know that. All I need to know, is he
going to sign the letter of intent."

Bitch, she thought to herself. "I guarantee it. He's
coming to Stanford."

"That's great. Coach really liked this kid. I'll wait
to tell him until after I talk to the kid tomorrow.
I'm supposed to have a final talk with the kid before
he goes home." She sounded gleeful.

"And me?" she asked.

"Oh yeah. I'll call the registrar Monday. I'm sure
your scholarship will be approved."

"Thanks. I really need that scholarship."

"Glad we could help each other."

"Yeah. Goodbye." Punching the off button she sat
looking at her phone. Bitch! She threw the phone down
on the seat. I need a shower she thought as she
noticed her sweater sticking to her chest. She slammed
the car into gear and squealed the tires as she tore
from the parking lot and into the night.




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