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From: john_dark@anon.nymserver.com
Subject: {FriarDave}JDR"Elly 3"( MF )[3/3]
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                             JOHN DARK REPOST
The following story is posted for the entertainment of adults.  If you are 
below the age of eighteen or are otherwise forbidden to read electronic 
erotic fiction in your locality, please delete this message now.  The story 
codes in the subject line are intended to inform readers of possible areas 
that some might find distasteful, but neither the poster nor the author 
make any guarantee.  You should be aware that the story might raise other 
matters that you find distasteful.  You read at your own risk.

The enjoyment of these reposts can be increased by reading the "Coming 
Attractions," which includes the titles to be reposted in the next week.

These stories have not been written by the person posting them.  Many of 
those e-mail addresses below the author's byline still work.  If you liked 
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well.  




=============================================================
This tale involves consensual sexual relations, explicitly
described, between an adult male and an adult female.
There is no violence, drugs (except for some wine), bondage, 
discipline, sado-masochism, water sports, projectile vomiting,
piercing, humiliation, mutilation, bestiality or references to 
Joey Buttafuoco. If the absence of any of these turns you off, 
read no farther. Please don't show this to those unable or 
unwilling to consent to reading it. Please do not use "impact"
as a transitive verb. 
=============================================================
 
                           =====================
                                   ELLY 
                               by Friar Dave 
                           Friar_Dave@mhbbs.com.

Part 3


When I awoke, I lay there for a few minutes trying to sort things out. 
The clock said 9:08. After reminding myself that this was a Saturday 
and I did not have to go into the place I laughingly refer to as 
"work," I began to wonder: Had I dreamed it? No; there was a wet spot 
where she'd lain. And I became aware of the aroma of fresh coffee. I  
rolled to my feet, pulled on my faded blue terrycloth robe, slipped 
into my slippers (clever name for them, eh?) and thwap-thwapped into 
the living room.

Elly had opened the shutters and glorious sunshine was pouring in 
through the fourth-floor windows of my tenement apartment. She was 
doing wonderful things for my old, blue robe (the tattered one 
that came just beneath my knees; on her, the hem dragged on the 
floor). A cup of the Good Stuff was on the battered old oak table next 
to the love seat and she'd switched the stereo to play through the 
living room speakers, the ones in the bookshelves. It was something 
called "LITE FM" and I hated it. "LITE" means no calories, and calories 
are a measure of heat; no-one was ever going to accuse Ann Murray or 
Kansas of generating heat with their music.

On Elly's lap was the three-ring binder in which I keep photocopies of 
my published stories.

She looked up as I entered. Her eyes were red-rimmed; she'd been 
weeping. "Oh, David," she said, "I can't believe you wrote these!"

"Why not?" I already knew which one had elicited that response. 
"Because I like to fuck?"

Her expression collapsed. "Why do you have to spoil it?"

"I'm a package deal. With the beautiful story comes the guy who 
supported himself for a couple of years by writing brilliant, 
sensitive stuff like `Lezzy Bitch' and `Mom, Sis And Every Body.' And 
if that disappoints you, think what it does for me, okay?"

She looked down and pursed her lips. I tried to ignore the Parting of 
the Robe. She murmured, "I guess that's fair. I mean, you'll take me 
as a package deal, I guess I have to do the same. You don't mind being 
with a slutty bimbo who loves being fucked and cumming all the time." 
She looked up at me, beautiful blue eyes wide and bright.

"I don't mind, and I don't think you're slutty."

She closed the binder and set it aside. I was disappointed that she 
wasn't compelled to finish what she was reading. She leaned forward, 
and I got a good view all the way down the front of her robe. She 
opened mine and sucked my cock -- still coated with our dried juices 
from the night before -- completely into her mouth and began using her 
tongue to wash it. The inevitable happened quickly.

She pulled back and released it and looked up at me. "I get off 
sucking cock. Drinking semen makes me get over."

"I know. So does being licked or having a cock inside you -- "

"That's different. Then I can't stop cumming, and I don't want to. But 
drinking it, getting off that way -- then it's just once, and I'm in 
control."

"And the other way you're being controlled."

"No -- no, the other way I'm out of control, I can't control myself. 
That's why I started studying yoga when I was 15 -- to help me 
learn to control myself. I controlled my eating and stopped smoking 
and never do drugs anymore and hardly ever even drink. And I never, 
ever masturbate. That way nothing controls me but me, and no one can 
control me or hurt me or take advantage of me."

"That's why you want it to hurt you when you fuck."

She nodded gravely. "If it doesn't hurt -- well, you saw what 
happened." She was blushing. "I just keep getting over..." She dropped 
her eyes. "It's not natural to be such a slut. That's why you're the 
first man I ever let lick me, and that was just because I like you so 
much."

I frowned, pulled my robe closed and sat down in the rocker facing the 
couch. "Last night you told me you liked it -- before I licked you."

"No, I didn't -- "

"You're not a good liar."

"But you are the first -- "

She stopped and tears welled up. 

"How old were you when you let a woman lick you?"

"A year before I met you, my cousin and I, we -- we --"

"You liked it."

"Yes, dammit!" she shouted, and then looked away. Softly: "I used to 
masturbate and get over every night before I went to sleep. But when 
she licked me, I went nuts. I licked her, too, and she went nuts, too. 
That's when I realized what a slut I am, because she was the biggest 
slut you ever saw, and I was getting over just like her."

"How do you know she was a slut?"

"I'd seen her doing it with guys and men. She'd do it with any guy she 
saw, sometimes whole bunches of them. It was like she couldn't get 
enough, like she was an addict."

"Sounds like she was a sex addict, alright. And a slut. But you're no 
slut."

"How can you say that? Only a slut would get over the way I -- "

"You're saying that every woman I ever cared about is a slut?" I 
growled, as menacingly as I could. It must have been pretty effective, 
because her eyes widened, she jerked back on the couch and cringed, 
holding the robe closed. Note: my effectiveness at terrifying insecure 
women under five feet tall.

"No! I just meant -- "

"The hell! You said a multiorgasmic woman is a slut, and every woman 
I've ever cared about has been multiorgasmic."

"But -- "

I pointed at the framed photo of a nude torso on the wall. "You've met 
her. Is she a slut?"

"Her?" Disbelief.

"What about Livinia?"

"Who?"

"The Filipino woman who used to work in the laundromat. Is she a 
slut?"

"But she was always nice and pleasant and polite and never--"

"That's two. You've met both of them, talked with them. By your 
definition, they're sluts -- because they're multiorgasmic."

"I don't understand," she whispered.

"You read a lot, Elly. There've been hundreds of articles in women's 
magazines about women being naturally multiorgasmic."

"I don't read those articles. They start me thinking, and then I want 
to get over too much." She blushed. "Even just talking about it, now, 
makes me -- you know."

"Horny."

"I can probably get over just by thinking about it and imagining it, I 
think."

I stared at her for a long time. "Elly, I know women who'd kill to be 
able to do that."

"Really? Are they slutty?"

"Nope. Elly, what do you do when your sweetheart wants you? Make him 
hurt you?"

"He can't help it. He's so -- you know -- big that it always hurts to 
have him inside. We hardly ever do that, because he likes to have me 
suck him off. I like that."

"I know."

Her eyes were open, but she wasn't seeing me at the moment. 
Pornographic images were in her field of vision. Her nipples were 
swollen points jabbing the front of the tautly held robe. Considering 
that the robe was brushed velour, it was pretty impressive.

"And I like you," she said suddenly. "You listen to me and talk to me. 
But you're telling me to take a chance and give in to being a slut."

"When you wanted to lose weight, you didn't stop eating completely, 
did you?"

She shook her head. "I just learned to eat regular meals and eat the 
right stuff."

"Same thing. Get crazy only when it's right for you and do what feels 
good with the right people. Use your head the way you did when you 
were dieting. You're acting like an anorexic -- someone who's 
compulsive about not eating so he can avoid being fat."

"So you're telling me that you don't think I'm a slut, that it's 
natural for a woman to get over so much, and that the way I'm doing it 
isn't really healthy for me."

"In my humble opinion."

She looked up at the Library Wall. I watched the robe, to see if the 
nipples were going poke holes in it. I didn't think so, but I wasn't 
willing to put money on it.

"I don't know," she mumbled.

"Think about that while I get some coffee."

"Mm-hm."

I stood and went over to stand before her. She refocused her eyes on 
me. She was slightly flushed and her breathing was shallow. "And one 
other thing," I said.

"What?"

"While I'm drinking my coffee in the dining room..." I took her hand, 
put it over her cunt and squeezed. She gasped -- but didn't try to 
stop. "I want you to touch yourself."

"I don't know -- "

"Please -- as a favor."

I didn't have to wait for a reply, because her fingers were already 
moving of their own accord. I would have preferred to stay and watch, 
but I wanted my coffee -- and to keep the conditions I'd set.

I fed the so-called cat and sat down to drink my coffee. I did not 
look at the clock and tried not to scald myself with haste. I also 
tried not to visualize what was going on in the living room.

I remembered Elly as I'd met her. She'd been mentally rather mature for 
her age -- 16 -- and sold donuts at a local store, over near the 
subway. Her poise and perception and literacy had impressed me. 
Becoming acquaintances and even friends was odd.

Odd because I am truly repulsed, physically, by grossly overweight 
females. (Don't take this as sexist, please; I suppose that the vast 
majority of women are repulsed by overweight males, too.) That made 
it easy to be a friend to her, to be a confident and, occasionally, 
an advisor -- because I knew I'd never be tempted to hit on her and 
she could sense that I was safe.

As time passed, she would sometimes call me late at night, after her 
strict (old-country Polish) mother had already turned in. She knew 
that I stayed up late, and I encouraged her to call. There was 
something fragile about her. She needed a friend, a man whose 
interests weren't confined to fucking her, or who -- like me -- wasn't 
at all interested in fucking her. Considering her weight, that was no 
problem for me.

After she left the donut store, sometimes we'd bump into each other. 
More often than not, it was at the local video store. We'd chat a bit 
while we walked as far as my corner (she lived much farther east, in 
the old end of the neighborhood), and one night we stood and talked 
for almost an hour. Neither of us wanted to stop sharing of ourselves.

She'd ask about my girlfriend -- though "main squeeze" was more like 
it, since my girl and I had sort of an open relationship -- and I'd 
ask what new love was in her life. She was a hopeless romantic, 
falling in and out of love weekly, but usually worshiping from afar. 
Eventually, we simply lost touch with each other.

Her footsteps in the hallway snapped me back to the moment. I finished 
my coffee and looked up, expecting to see her come into the dining 
room. Instead, the steps changed direction, and then I heard her bump 
into the door jamb -- she is Polish, after all -- and then heard her 
hit the bed. I heard sheets rustle.

Then: "David, please come here." Her voice had a quaver in it. Being 
not nearly as dumb as I look, I immediately went to her. When I got 
there, she had the covers pulled up to her neck. Only her flushed 
face, framed by disheveled hair, was visible. Her hands wee moving 
beneath the covers, though, clearly cupping and gliding over her 
breasts, then sliding down her torso to move at the juncture of her 
thighs. 

I closed the door and looked down at her from the foot of the bed. My 
cock was already throbbing hard beneath my robe. 

"I just kept getting over until I had to have you. Oooo...What would 
make you hot?" she breathed. Her eyes were half-closed. The heaving of 
her breasts beneath the light blanket increased. "C'mon -- tell me."

I walked around to stand beside the bed next to her head. She started 
to reach for me.

"No -- keep touching yourself."

"Does that turn you on?"

I opened my robe. "What do you think?"

She licked her lips. "Whatever you like..."

"I want you to -- " I stopped, watching her reach between her legs 
under the covers. Her legs parted wider and she hunched her shoulders. 
Her breathing deepened.

"You want me to what?" 

"It turns you on having me watch you, doesn't it?"

"Yeah!"

"I want you to cum for me while I watch you."

"I can't -- "

"Yes, you can."

"But I want you inside me, where it aches -- " She kneaded her cunt 
frantically. "I need it so baaaaad inside me..."

I reached behind me and into the top drawer of the dresser. When she 
opened her eyes, they widened. "I want to watch you using this."

"I couldn't -- "

"That's what would get me really turned on."

"I can't -- " But even as she objected, her eyes were locked on the 
very realistic eight-inch dildo. I pulled back the bedcovers, exposing 
that magnificent young body. She started to remove her hand from her 
soaked pussy, but I covered her hand with mine and then kissed her 
slippery fingers. She barely hesitated in her furious masturbation. 
She was holding her labia apart with the fingers of one hand and 
furiously rubbing her clit with the other thumb while trying to force 
two fingers deeper into that sweet, syrupy little slit.

I stood and took the K-Y from the same drawer and smeared a liberal 
dose on the dildo. She focused on it like a bird watching a cobra as I 
brought it slowly down between her thighs. When I put the tip against 
her exposed cunt, she jerked. "Cold," she said. 

"It'll get warm fast." 

She rolled her hips and pressed her pelvis down and toward the dildo. 
I pushed it a little and she gasped as it began to slide in. Her 
fingering of her clit speeded up. I worked the latex head back and 
forth a few times, watching her rhythm alter. When her cunt was 
reaching for it all the time, I pushed the head all the way in. She 
gasped and then groaned and began revolving her hips around it. She 
took the labia-parting hand away and began caressing her breasts. I 
was jealous.

"It feels so big in there, so good and big and stretching me so 
muuuuu..."

I led the tit-fondling hand down and placed it on the shaft, then took 
my fingers away. She worked it back and forth experimentally a few 
times, then began slowly pumping herself with it, taking the inch-and-
a-half thick dildo deeper each time. 

"Oh, yeah, this feels so good, feels so good, feels so good," she 
breathed, chanting in time to her thrusts. Her hips were taut, now, 
and she was starting to arch her ass from the bed. Suddenly, she 
arched higher and rolled slowly over onto her belly. She pulled her 
knees up, leaving her shoulders and face flat on the bed, and began 
pushing that latex prick deeper. Whatever she was muttering was lost 
in the pillow.

I looked at her in profile. Her face was turned toward me and was 
totally slack with pleasure. Her hair was a singular, disheveled mess. 
Her position was crushing her oversized tits so they bulged out to 
either side of her. She had her knees pulled up so far that her 
kneecaps were pushing against her breasts. Her sleek little ass was 
outthrust beautifully. And her hand, still gripping the base of the 
dildo, occasionally appeared briefly between her taut thighs before 
disappearing back between them.

I reached out and began lightly caressing her back. After about 20 
seconds, she was cumming -- hard. She kept pumping her pussy with the 
indefatigable dildo and her pussy kept pumping right back: She kept 
cumming. I took my fingers from her back and she moaned, "Touch me! 
Please!" She was cumming faster now and I didn't want to spoil the 
mood or anything, so I accommodated her. It was a great sacrifice.

I traced my fingertips on the overflow swell of her left breast and 
she continued pumping, now with less regularity. She was starting to 
lose her coordination and all self-control. I leaned forward and 
kissed her hot cheek gently and whispered, "You are so beautiful and 
wonderful. You're turning me on beyond belief!"

She just moaned and continued getting off on what she was doing. 

I went to the foot of the bed and bent and began kissing and licking 
the small of her back. Inches beneath my chin, she was thrusting the 
dildo harder and harder into herself. I grabbed her buttocks and gave 
them a squeeze, then spent some time nibbling lightly on them, then 
kissed and licked them. My hands stayed busy on her hips and thighs, 
caressing. She was moaning softly and continuously now, and her whole 
body was shaking.

I licked down the sweet, narrow furrow of her tiny, taut ass and when 
I got to the opening, kept right on licking. She was quivering all 
over, cumming without pause, now, and with growing intensity. I 
located the K-Y, and lubed up a finger while rimming her teeny little 
asshole. I thrust my tongue against the pinpoint opening, then licked 
up and down and kissed the inner swells of her cheeks again. Then I 
put my slippery fingertip against her anus and slowly massaged the K-Y 
into it. 

"Yessssss...." she hissed loudly. I pressed the fingertip in to the 
first knuckle. I could feel the dildo pumping through that thin 
membrane separating the channels. Her ass clamped down on my finger 
and spasmed powerfully as she continued cumming. I worked it in 
farther and then carefully moved it in and out. I thought of how it 
would feel to have my prick in there and regretted that she was so 
tiny that even my dick would hurt her too much. Doubly regretted it, 
because she was obviously enjoying what I was doing back there, and 
she moaned when I removed the finger. 

I went back to the side of the bed and rolled her onto her side. She 
slowed her pumping and looked up at me. Her eyes focused for a moment 
and she said in a distant, amazed voice: "I just can't stop getting 
over, David! I just keep cumming!"

"It's so wonderful," I answered. I rolled her over the rest of the 
way. She reached up with one shaking, juice-soaked hand and grabbed my 
stiff prick. 

"Please?" she said, pulled me toward her face. "Please?"

I straddled her and felt the her huge breasts brush the backs of my 
thighs. Her nipples were stiff as spikes. I lowered my cock to her 
eager mouth and that long, limber tongue flickered out to guide it the 
rest of the way to her welcoming lips. She locked on to my dick about 
halfway down. I leaned forward, onto my outstretched arms, and looked 
down to watch as I slowly, carefully, pumped my dick in and out of her 
mouth. Beyond that, her wondrous tits thrust upward, capped by 
outrageously swollen nipples. And beyond those, I could see her hips 
canted up, her knees wide and feet flat on the bed. She was holding 
the dildo almost motionless and fucking it with urgent thrusts. Every 
half-minute or so, she would hold herself still and catgut taut and 
cum, shuddering. The room was ripe with the smell of hot pussy.

It was too much for me, and very quickly I was pulsing in her mouth. I 
didn't have to tell her I was cumming; she knew it was imminent. She 
sucked maniacally, cumming constantly as she did.

When I finally began spurting in her mouth, she gobbled my cock to the 
back of her throat and gulped me right down and in. I felt like all my 
semen was exploding out of me in one long, uninterrupted stream -- and 
she was drinking it all and cumming so hard that she was arching on 
the bed beneath me.

She drained me dry and kept sucking. I pulled my spent dick from her 
lips and rolled to one side. She continued cumming, her hand a blur as 
she rubbed her clitoris, her hips chattering up at the dildo held in 
place by the other hand.

She was gasping a word. I put my ear close and finally made it out: 
"More...more...more..." Each time it was a little explosion of barely 
modulated breath. I leaned down on the bed and began licking her 
breasts and then suckled her. I ran my hands lightly all over her. She 
was cumming constantly now, without interruption. I licked lower, over 
her abdomen and then around her mons. I caressed her thighs and 
reached beneath to lightly cup and squeeze her ass. Her buttocks 
were in constant spasms as she came. 

I leaned farther and she grabbed my hair and forced my mouth down to her 
clitoris. As she kept grinding her cunt on the dildo, I sucked her clit 
carefully into my lips and began lightly running my tongue around -- but as 
fast as I could: swirling. I wrapped my arms around her slim hips and 
grabbed her ass and bore her back down to the bed. 

"YES!" she screamed suddenly, loud enough to scare the neighbor's dog 
into barking. Her body began writhing, serpentine, beneath me. She 
wrapped her arms around my waist and pulled herself to me so tightly, 
I thought one of us was going to break. Her mouth was against my 
abdomen, and I felt her screaming nonstop against me as she came.

She came harder and harder and then, abruptly, went silent. Her hips 
hunched and then relaxed, and she fell shiveringly limp. The dildo was 
pushed ever so slowly out of her cunt, followed by an enormous 
accumulation of Elly juices that seemed to pour out of her. Even as I 
rolled away, hearing her panting slow, she shuddered and came again. 

I sat up with my back to the wall and looked at her. Elly's body 
continued, slowly, to shake with pleasure, as if echoes of the orgasms 
were still bouncing around in there. The flush was just beginning to 
fade from her chest. 

I stretched out beside her and took her into my arms. The bedside 
clock said noon. I nestled her, spoon-fashion, against me and kissed 
the side of her neck. She smiled in her sleep. I smiled back, anyhow. 
When she woke I would tell her that she had helped me realize a 
fantasy I've had since I was eighteen: To be with a woman and help her 
cum so hard and so much that she passes out from the sheer pleasure of 
it.

Forty-five minutes later, I was awakened by the sound of the shower 
running. I donned the ratty old robe, creaked out of the bedroom and 
knocked. 

"Come on in!" I heard her drawing the curtain.

Elly stood there with her hair in the incredibly stupid pink showercap 
I keep for guests, with water sluicing off her amazing little body. 
I had great fun watching her use the Ivory Soap on the astonishing 
curves, and my cock had even more fun in mind. She spotted the growth 
and her eyes half-closed and her nipples began to swell. Her hands 
dipped between her legs and started moving, then withdrew. I started 
to pull off the robe.

"Don't," she said softly. "I have to get going."

"Don't you want me anymore?"

She grabbed my hand and put it between her legs. I slid a finger deep 
inside her. The hot moisture in there wasn't from any shower. 
"Desperately," she said softly, putting a kiss on my beard and pushing 
my hand away from her cunt. "But I have to run some errands and do 
some housekeeping."

"Still think of yourself as a slut?" I whispered.

She laughed and straightened, completing her rinsing. As I watched her 
towel herself dry, she said, "Right now? No. But when I want to, I'll 
be a slut, alright. Like before." She shook her head in amazement and 
wrapped the towel around herself. "I never would have imagined I could 
ever cum so much! I actually passed out from it!"

I walked her to the bedroom and watched her dress while I told her 
about the fantasy.

"That's the kind of fantasy I would've thought you had, David." She 
was wearing her jeans and had her bra on, but not clasped. She leaned 
up to kiss my chin. "It's too bad that once you do something, it can't 
be a fantasy anymore."

"Naaaah. I'd like to do it again -- lots."

"Really?"

"You betcha."

"Me, too. The same goes for my fantasy."

I frowned as she hooked the bra and reached for her plum-colored 
blouse. "What's that?"

"The one I've had since I was 16 -- about you."

"I'm ready."

She gave my stiff dick a squeeze. "So I noticed." She buttoned her 
blouse, saying, "And I've had other fantasies, but I've always held 
them down."

"I'd love to hear them."

"I'll tell you mine if you'll tell me yours -- that is, if you've got 
any left."

"Don't worry. I've one or two left, maybe even three."

She cocked an eyebrow at me. "`Lezzy Bitch,' was it? How many of those 
books did you write?"

I made a face. She laughed as she bent limberly and straight-legged -- 
as if to taunt me with her body -- to pull on her sandals. She 
straightened and said, "You know, I really would like to see that 
book."

"`Lezzy Bitch'?"

"No, the one on the shelf -- `Fear of Flying.'" 

We went into the living room. She retrieved her handbag (which is what 
they call a canvas steamer trunk with a strap on it), and I gave her 
the book.

At the door, I asked, "Can I count on getting this book back?"

"Hand-delivered," she said and started down the stairs. She waved from 
the third-floor landing. 

end 

====================================================================
That's it. Next story will be FURLOUGH, a little spoof on the ol'
Giant Body Parts bit, in a coupla-three days. 
Please don't ask me to Email missed sections; the folks giving me 
access to this Newsgroup pay for their traffic by the pound, and 
they are a small group of dedicated amateurs -- not a big, well-
funded organization. As always, I welcome all comments and 
criticisms via Email or public post -- but if it is a public 
post, please do it in alt.sex.story.DISCUSS, not in this group.
============================================================
===============================================================
This is an original story from a caller to The Abbey, part of 
MHBBS (212-683-1448). Feel free to repost it as is, without 
editing or changing anything in it, including this tag. For 
information about The Abbey, a spam-free place for writers and
readers of adult material to gather, email Friar_Dave@mhbbs.com
or call MHBBS at 212-683-1448 and leave a note for the Sysop or
me.
================================================================
 
                           =====================
                                   ELLY 
                               by Friar Dave 
                                  Part 3
                                   -30-


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