Message-ID: <14473eli$9808151925@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14473.txt>
From: "Seurat" <seurat7@enter.net>
Subject: {ASSM} Celestial Contest: Virtual addiction, by Seurat
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Path: qz!not-for-mail
Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam
Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Original-Message-ID: <01bdc881$86c907e0$af10aacc@seurat7>
Virtual Addiction
a typical [short] story by Seurat
Sex. Not 'making love'. Sex. Hot, raw, sweaty. Smooth
feminine skin abraded by rough hairy male skin. Smells, tastes,
sights, sounds, touches that convey.
John sat on the faded plaid couch, worn leather straps
cracking under his weight and a permanent impression where he
liked to put his behind. He was dressed in his typical
television -watching clothes: loose boxer shorts covered by
an old terrycloth bathrobe that once held a print of some
kind but was now so threadbare that the colors were no longer
distinguishable.
Hot sex. Sweating bodies caught up in passion, moving in
rhythm. Sheets pulled away from the mattress.
In his right hand is a can of cold beer. So cold that
his fingers are going numb. Just the way he likes it. In his
left hand is the remote control which, unlike the 'typical'
male, he has not used for some time. He likes the seventies
era game show that flickers across his cathode ray box. He
wouldn't dream of changing channels.
Thrusting and pulling, two bodies reach for orgasm, their
momentum growing and growing. The grunts, cries, and the sounds
of pounding flesh fill the air.
A smile comes over his face. Virtual addiction was the
catch phrase the psychiatrists were throwing about nowadays,
and he had it. He openly admitted it. Given the chance, he
would stay in the virtual world forever, leave the real one
behind. He took a long draw form the beer and rested the can
on his 'beer' belly. What an appropriate name, he thought, and
smiled to himself.
She is too beautiful; any man's wet dream. A body
constructed by science, her lips are too full, waist too slim,
and breasts too firm to be natural, but they still look good.
Make that incredible. That and the fact that she's willing to
do anything required of her. No, not required. She's willing
to do anything asked of her.
John takes another drink and tries to guess the answer
that is stumping the panel of celebrities. He's seen the
show before, and should know the answers, but always seems
to forget. The guy with the sideburns and the wide tie will
answer correctly, he knows.
She arches her back in climax, muscles tensing, juices
dripping, clenching the maleness between her legs to wring
it dry. It is her job, her secret passion, to be more than
they can handle, so they always come back for more. Her
breathing starts to calm as the rush leaves her.
John notices his toenails need clipping, and wonders
if he will ever get around to it. He finishes the beer and
opens another. Psychiatrists don't know what they are
talking about. He could stop any time he wanted to. It's
just that he doesn't want to. It is an escape, a diversion
that he doesn't want to live without. That he can't live
without.
She lies on the bed, waiting for John to appear again.
Everything is perfect: her hair, her makeup, her body. She
will conquer him this time. She has new tricks to heighten
his ecstasy. It is almost his time, and this time he will
not win.
A buzz in another room, probably from a clock, brings
John back to his alcohol-dimmed senses. It is time. Again.
He wishes down deep that he could break his addiction and
rescue himself, but he knows he is far too weak. The buzzer
rings a second time, beckoning him. Resigned, he gets off
the couch for the first time in hours, and stumbles into the
other room where a simple black box with a red button awaits.
That is all that is in the room with the featureless grey
walls. All that needs to be in the room. He hesitates at
first, then pushes the button.
She lies on the bed, still waiting. "Where have
you been?"
"In the other world," he replies.
"You know, people can become addicted virtual reality
stuff," the director interrupts. "Maybe you should cut back
a little, like the shrinks said. What do you do in there,
anyway?"
"It lets me get away, to a different place."
"Never mind, I really don't want to know what type of
perverted world you have constructed for yourself. Now,
this is the big finale scene. First, Tanya is gone suck
you until you're good and hard. Take her in the pussy first,
then in the ass. That's when Candy is gonna come in and
slide her vibrator into your ass while she sucks on you
balls. Nod twice when you're ready to come, so I can move
one of the cameras in tight. Pull out and spray it all
over Candy, okay? Ready everybody? Let's try and get this
on one take! Lights! Camera! Action!"
*end*
--
+----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+
| <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> |
| Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |
<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/>----<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.html>