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From: Mark <nexuswilson@nightmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} {assm} Mark gets an offer     MFF real rej
Date: Mon, 20 Dec 1999 22:10:00 -0500
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                               ##### WARNING #####
The following contains material of a sexually explicit nature. Do not read any
further if you are under the legal age in the state/country in which you reside,
or you feel that you may be offended by the material.  Codes follow the title.
If you do not understand them consult www.asstr.com for a full explanation.
This story is meant for ADULTS ONLY and is a work of fiction.  Or is it?
If you're not of legal age, EXIT NOW.
                            
COPYRIGHT 1999. As the author of the following story, I claim all rights in
accordance with international copyright laws. These rights are claimed legally
by me under the pseudonym of Mark.  All rights are
reserved, including the reproduction of it in any form on the net or
elsewhere without the written permission of the copyright owners, who
may be contacted by e-mailing nexuswilson at nightmail dot com

                 
Mark gets an offer     MFF real rej

I was in a bar in Waikiki Beach with a group of about 10 men.  We were on a
business trip around the world, and having a ball.

For those of you who don't know, which is probably almost everyone who ever
reads this, Waikiki is a jungle of concrete towers filled with expensive shops
and restaurants.  It's almost $5 a beer there, but there are a few reasonable
bars, and the whole place is packed with the young, beautiful, rich, all on
holiday and determined to have fun.  We were on our first night in town, none of
us had ever been before, and we headed out of our hotel in search of fun, soon
finding a sign advertising an amateur bikini contest.  That sounded like a good
place to start so we headed off for that, arriving just as the show was about to
begin.  The other thing I should mention before I start is that I love smallish
tits, just about a handful, that stand up pertly on the chest with no need for a
bra.  It took my wife Marie almost 15 years to fully believe that anyone could
really believe her tits to be the ideal size, shape and texture.

Amateur was hardly the word I'd use.  All the girls had solid silicon chests,
their breasts straining to escape from skin that had obviously been put under a
lot of stress the original design had not envisaged.  The bikinis were so small
that careful inspection showed that scars were visible, even in the dim light of
the bar.  Their chests bounced around like balls fixed to their chests and I
find that really unattractive, but I managed to get into the party atmosphere by
drinking a beer straight down on an empty stomach and concentrating my attention
on their lower areas where, it has to be said, there was a full complement of
perfect pins and not a trace of stubble or stray hairs to be seen.  All six had
perfect hair, beautiful faces and minds firmly fixed on the $300 first prize.
They moved with the grace and poise of trained professionals, but one had a
secret weapon which was in the form of two friends moving around the crowd
chatting up any sizable group of guys and urging them to cheer for number five
as they are on holiday and have run out of cash and really need her to win so
they can party on tonight, with the implied idea that it might just be with you
lot.  Yeah, right.  Well several groups went for it and she duly won the money.
Personally I thought that within the normal parameters of such matters number
four was putting on the best show, but I do tend to be a bit cynical about such
matters and, to be truthful, there was so little between any of them that it
would have hardly surprised me if any of the six had won with an equal playing
field.
Once the contest was over I dashed straight off for some beers as the bar
emptied, having gone without for some time.  It took about ten minutes and
returning with two beers I found no-one I knew to be seen.  Hastily I toured the
bar before realising that they had left and would probably be well away by now.
No-one had mentioned where we might be going next, indeed, none of us even knew
which direction anything worth going to might be, although we had realised that
virtually every bar has a cover charge.  Unless I happened to meet them in the
street I was on my own for the rest of the night.

I guess I was stood a bit dumbly pondering this predicament with two beers in my
hand and, no doubt, a thousand yard stare, as I suddenly noticed a very
attractive lone woman leaning against the wall next to me and giving me a rather
quizzical look.  The conversation that followed was as unusual as it was
unexpected and lots of you will say that I must have been mad and they would
have done it differently and couldn't I just lie and make up something for the
sake of the story.  Well maybe I will one fine day!
"Oh, er sorry.  I was just pondering what to do now.  It looks like I've been
forgotten and left behind while I was at the bar."
"Hey, that's OK.  But how can your friend forget you?"
"Oh, no, there were about ten of us, but I was in a round of just two.  Makes
for easier carrying.  I suppose he's just about in another bar by now and
noticing that I'm not buying him a beer."  Apart from her very long, wavy hair
she was physically just my type.  I also noticed that she appeared to be without
a drink.  As I had a spare it seemed churlish not to offer it to her, so I did.
"No thanks, I'm just waiting for someone, but it was real nice of you to offer."
She was definitely American.  I travel around quite a bit and mistaking a
Canadian for an American is a bad mistake I've learnt to avoid.  "What are you
doing here?  You sure are a long way from home."
I explained a bit about what we were up to traveling around the world and put
her right as it became apparent that she had in fact assumed from my accent that
I was Dutch rather than English.  After about five minutes conversation she
broke into a brief description of the vineyards of Adelaide with the following,
rather surprising, statement.
"Listen, you're a really cute guy, and I just love the look of those tight buns,
but I've just got to get out of here, and I think my friend is just about ready
as well.  How do you feel about coming back to our hotel and making out?"  As
she said this her eyes were wide open, staring into mine, and her hand slid
slinkily out and along my thigh.  It was only just gone ten at night, a stone
cold sober and extremely good looking woman was offering a night of sexual
athletics with her and a friend who was unlikely to not be at least fairly good
looking, and she obviously liked me a lot, even though I hadn't a clue what
'tight buns' might be, except that they were obviously good.  Now anyone who has
read my web site will know that in fantasy I like to explore fem-sub themes and
much of the rest of the myriad of human sexuality, but in the real world I am a
pretty regular married guy who treats his lover with equality and respect.
However, in that situation the pretty regular bit takes over and I got a severe
hard on very, very quickly.  
"That's what I call an offer to concentrate the mind," I said, trying to retain
my composure, as her hand started to slide round towards what I later discovered
is my left bun.  
"Well, my girlfriend just came out of the rest room and she's coming over now.
Her name's Lisa"
Ignoring the fact that we had yet to exchange our own names I laughed and said
"You know, that sounds really weird to an Englishman!  If I didn't know how
Americans speak I would think you were lesbians with you calling her your
girlfriend!"
She stood up as she said "Actually I phrased it that way on purpose as I know
how you English speak.  This is my lover Lisa, but we both love to share a fine,
hard cock now and then."  I was already thinking this has gone far enough and
I'd have to start letting her down, what with me being married and happily
monogamous, but in a polite, let you down gently kind of way.  However, things
were moving far too fast for me by now.
As I turned to meet her, Lisa said "Yes, and you sure seem to have found a
mighty fine one tonight." in a broad southern accent, but my eyes were directly
confronted by competition number two's soccer balls, barely contained within a
top cut so low I could actually see the top of one of her aureoles.  I remember
thinking that if she leant over any further forward they might fall out and
bounce off under a table somewhere.  My cock went back down faster than it had
gone up and my obvious distaste for what would presumably have sealed the fate
of many a man was unfortunately completely mistaken by the first girl for
distaste at their lifestyle.  All hope of polite withdrawal was instantly lost
as I swiftly found myself on the receiving end of a fairly loud and public
beration for being totally square followed by an explanation of how being gay
didn't make them unworthy of my attention etc., etc.  
Of course muttering out "I'm sorry, that's not what I meant," at various
intervals didn't help at all and I'm pretty sure "I just find the sight of
Lisa's pneumatic chest a total turn off," would not have helped either.  
That was the end of that ten minute relationship.  Fortunately, from that point
the evening could only improve, and it did.  Quite dramatically.

So that's what rej stands for!

Mark and Marie now have a web site where a writing project is in operation.
Visit to read the completed stories, to join with us in writing a story, or to
find out how it works, at
www.pornoz.com/alterotica
or
alternate-erotica.majorhost.com
Both are totally free (as in no AVS, trial, credit card checks or whatever else
is passed off as free in some parts of the net)
To start a story or comment e-mail nexuswilson at nightmail dot com

-- 
If you enjoyed this work, take a moment to email the author.  Your comments
are their only payment.  Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is
copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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