Message-ID: <59648asstr$1258794601@assm.asstr.org>
From: Bud Red <redbud@inbox.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Daydreams and Distractions 11 - Possessive Tense (Redbud)
Lines: 144
Date: Sat, 21 Nov 2009 04:10:01 -0500
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   Daydreams and Distractions 11 - Possessive Tense

   He said he didn't want to go.

   But he keeps asking you the same questions as you dress.

   How late will you be?  Who will you be meeting with?  Why are you
wearing that?

   Every time he asks, you give him the same answers: the convention;
faculty from other colleges, PHDs, authors, influential women and powerful
men.  He sits on the bed of the hotel room.  He watches you as you step out
of the bathroom, after your shower, naked and moist - sees you the way
other men will imagine seeing you.  You give him a crooked little smile,
your lover, maybe your husband, the carpenter without a college degree. 
He's not jealous.  No, wouldn't call him jealous.  You would call it
possessive.  And you have described him that way to girlfriends.  He's a
possessive man, not jealous.

   But maybe you're a little possessive too.  You've noticed how other
women glance at him: his sun-browned face, the strength in his shoulders,
his defined arms, the glint of smile lines, rough hands and scars, and the
muscular hips - virile hips.  You've noticed how the other women glance at
him while they sashay on the arm of a lawyer, doctor or banker.

   You stop answering his questions.  Yes, you say No.

   You reach up behind your neck to fasten your necklace.  You take longer,
though you *could* be quicker.  You do it while you're naked.  Your breasts
rise.  Your nipples stiffen as your skin dries.  You could have done this
after getting dressed.  But you do it now.  You face the desk mirror.  In
the reflection, you see him behind you looking at your long legs, your
narrow hips and ass.  You see exactly where he looks, at the inward curving
of your waist, then down the swell of your hips, then at the dark meeting
of your buttocks and thighs.  You subtly arch your back.

   "I'll be at the bar," he says, a little louder than necessary.

   "How late?" you ask.

   "You won't be back until 2 or 3, right?" He means AM.

   "That's right," you answer.  But you know what he means.  There will be
other women there.

   "OK," you answer, maybe a little louder than necessary.  You go to the
open closet behind the hotel room door.  You pull the strapless tube dress
from the hanger and slink into it, swivelling your hips more than necessary
and drawing its top, slower than necessary, over your breasts.

   "You're going like that?" he asks, still sitting on the edge of the bed.


   "Yeah." But you know what he means.  No bra.  No panties.

   He stands up fast, almost jumping from the edge of the bed.  And then
he's on you, behind you.  Your wrists, just at your hips, are suddenly
tightly in the vise of his fingers.  He forcefully lifts your hands up to
the closet pole.  You don't have a chance.  He's a hell of a lot stronger
than you and the simple fact of it twinges your pussy.  "Keep them there!"
he snaps at you.

   Of course, you don't.  "I don't have time for this!" you lie.

   Smack!  You cry out.  He's spanked your ass hard.  You're already
reaching for your ass, but he forces your hands up to the closet pole. 
Smack!  You inhale deeply.  Your stomach feels feather light.  This time
you keep your hands on the closet pole.  Smack!  You grip it hard!  Smack!
He pulls up your tube dress.  Smack!  You groan.  Smack!  You spread your
legs.  Smack!  You groan and arch your back.  And then one more smack!  You
exhale - a long and open mouth moan.  Your back is wantonly arched.  He
roughly yanks down the front of your tube dress, exposing your tits.

   "Wider!" he says.  You quickly obey.  You hear his jeans unzip.

   "Hunh!" He fills you hard and quick.  He opens your pussy and fills it,
all of it.  You sound another throaty exhalation.

   Then he's fucking you from behind.  He's pulling your ass back toward
him.  Your toes are barely touching the floor.  You're hanging on to the
closet pole.  You're grunting with each thrust and your ass still burns
from your spanking.

   "Let go of it!" he says, bluntly.

   You do.  He walks you, one hand arching your neck by the hair.  He walks
you, you on your toes, your pussy full of cock, to the desk's chair back.
He bends you over it.  You face the mirror.  Bigger than you, stronger than
you, a man, *your* man, and possessed by you, he yanks your head back by
the hair.  He makes sure you see yourself, bent over, on the balls of your
feet, legs straight and open, being fucked from behind.

   "What are you?" he asks fiercely.

   "A woman..." you groan.

   "Who do you belong to?"

   "You...y...your cock" He's deep.  His hands on your hips.  The rough
callouses of his thick fingers dig into your soft hips.

   "Whose?"

   "Yours..."

   "You're mine!" he growls, his thrusts harder.

   "Fuck me..." you growl your agreement.

   "Mine!" he repeats.

   "Fuck...  Uhn!...  fuck me from behind," you gasp.  Smack!  You arch, as
if it were any more possible, letting him own your cunt.  He makes you
watch your slender body.  He makes you watch as it gives to him your
orgasm.

   "Tell me again!" Smack!  "What does this..." Smack!  "...belong to?"

   "Y...  you...  only your cock...only..." You groan and your belly
clenches the cock, your lover's cock, yours, your man - only yours. 
"...yours..."

   He's pulsing inside you, filling you.  His cum, traveling the length of
his cock, explodes deep inside you.

   Then he's spun you around.  He makes you kneel, knees wide, heels curled
under your ass.  He runs the tip of his cock round your lips.  He lifts you
up and as he does so your tit brushes the semen from his cock.  He kisses
you hard and deeply.  "Don't you dare clean yourself," he says.  He's
marked you.  He's marked his territory.  You carry his juice in your pussy,
his scent on your lips and tits.  Your belly is full of him.  You pull down
your tube dress and cover your breasts, meeting his gaze.  Your ass still
stings.  "Put on your panties," he says.

   You stand on the tips of your small toes.  (He's so much bigger than
you.) You reach up behind his neck and draw his ear downward toward your
lips and tongue.  "Don't you dare," you whisper, feminine and softly, "take
a shower." 

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