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Subject: {ASSM} [post BSFSF] Dirty by Vinnie Tesla (flash stroke rough nosex)
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Dirty, by Vinnie Tesla

"Dirty girl," I murmured, my hand at her throat, pressing her
against the brick wall. I was rewarded with a ragged gasp. My other
hand found its way under her jacket, around her waist, pressed her
hard against me. I could feel the faint fluttering of her heart
against my chest.
In the semidarkness between streetlights, I bit her earlobe as cars
splashed through puddles behind me. I exhaled hot breath onto the nape
of her neck and heard her groan into my own ear, felt a shudder pass
through her.
"Hands behind your back." She complied hurriedly. I gripped her hair
and pulled her head back, exposing the tender arch of her throat,
which I fell on--kissing, licking, biting. She whimpered and squirmed
against me, but her arms stayed locked behind her.
I pulled back, and traced a finger along her lips. She clamped
her jaw defiantly, drawing in breath through flared nostrils. I
grinned and pressed my thumb against her lower jaw, slowly levering
her teeth apart.

I ran two fingers past the sharp ridges of her teeth, into the heat
and moisture of her mouth, moving their tips along the length of her
tongue. "Suck," I ordered, removing my thumb. Her lips closed around
my fingers, her tongue pressed against their length, her head bobbed
forward to take them in to the knuckle. I gasped as the tips pressed
up against her soft palate, her soft squirming tongue sending shivers
up my spine.
I pushed more fingers into her mouth. Three, four. She opened wide
to accommodate them, closing her eyes, letting her jaw go slack. I
rubbed my wet hand over her face, spearing her own saliva onto her
parted lips, her flushed cheeks, her forehead. Then I slapped her.
Lightly, but enough to make her jerk in surprise. Gripping the back of
her head with both hands, I jammed my open mouth over hers, my tongue
shoving between her teeth, sucking the breath from her lungs.
Withdrawing, I sucked on her lower lip, bit down on it until she
yelped. Still holding her head, I looked into her eyes. "Dirty
bastard," she whispered.


This story is a double-bradley--two linked seventeen-line sections
intended to arouse the reader (or at least the author). It's a
variation on the Bradley Stoke Flash Stroke story, which was invented
by Mat Twassel.and is documented at

More of my stories can be found at
Send me e-mail at'd love to hear from you.

Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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