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Subject: RP: A Story for a Friend   mf
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(Note: I am not the author, just the archivist.

The following story contains scenes of explicit sex.  If you're not
old enough to be here, you're not old enough to read it.  Scram.

I'll warn you from the outset that this story was, as far as I know,
never completed.  It was very well written, and *almost* stands alone.
If anyone has more of this, I'd like to have it for the archives.)


          A Story for a Friend ....
          (c) Susan J. Pennington  (penn0010@gold.tc.umn.edu )

The knock startled her out of her reverie.  She had been reading another in 
the seemingly never-ending stack of articles and monographs for her 
research and her mind had wandered...to a moonlit coast and strong hands 
intertwined in her hair and warm lips pressed to her neck. 

She put the book down and went to the door.  "Hi," he said with a slight 
smile.  He did this sometimes, stopped by without calling first.  For some 
reason, she never considered it an intrusion, though if anybody else did it 
she would probably be annoyed. 

 "Hi, yourself...come in."  She moved aside slightly and he walked in, 
careful not to brush against her.  "Would you like some coffee?  I'm going 
to make a fresh pot." she said, the pulse already pounding in her throat.  
He leaned casually against the kitchen wall, arms crossed, head cocked to 
one side, watching her, silent and smiling.  She could just see him out of 
the corner of her eye, though she was trying to concentrate on the coffee.  
In his presence, she had been known to dump the coffee directly into the 
pot and pour milk into the reservoir.  This had led to laughter and a session 
of wild love-making pressed up against a counter.  It was this ability to 
unnerve her completely that she found alluring in him.  She never knew 
what he was going to do.  She was never bored and that in itself was worth 
celebrating, for it seemed to her that the last few years had been spent in 
predictable relationships with predictable people and predictable 
outcomes.  Tedium and numbing obligation had ruled in her bedroom until 
she had given up and turned to work and study full time with only the 
occasional stranger to scratch the occasional itch. 

As she was getting water from the tap, he shifted slightly.  She heard the 
rasp of his jeans as he crossed and then uncrossed his legs, but still he 
didn't touch her.  She wandered how long the game would go this time. 
Sometimes, as soon as he saw her, he would wrap his arms around her 
waist and begin kissing her, slowly prying open her mouth, nibbling on 
her lips, running his tongue over them, gently lifting her onto her toes to 
bite her neck.  She would wrap her arms around his neck and kiss his 
eyelids or slide her hands under his shirt and began to lightly scratch at his 
nipples, pinching them.  Other times, they would talk for a while about 
what they had been doing over the last few days, catching up on the 
details.  This would continue until one of them broke.  Either she would 
reach out and wrap her hand around the back of his neck and pull him to 
her or he would put his hand on her leg and squeeze.  That initial contact 
was still enough to make her tingle.  It didn't matter if it had been thirteen 
hours or thirteen days; one touch of his hands or his lips and she was there, 
ready, pulsating, alive.  There was a sexual powder keg between them and 
they were both pyromaniacs. 

As the water splashed into the back of the Mr. Coffee, he stirred, pushing 
off from the wall with his shoulder.  Her heartbeat doubled.  It was going 
to happen again.  Two hands gripped her waist and a kiss was planted on 
top of her head.  She slid the pot into the machine and began to twist 
around.  He stopped her with a gentle pressure on her waist.  His hands 
moved slowly down her sides and then up her front, stopping long enough 
to cup her breasts and squeeze them gently.  Her knees began to weaken.  
She reached out to grasp the counter.  He removed his hands from her 
breasts.  Using one to pull her hair back and the other to press her firmly 
into his body, he bit her neck.  She gasped audibly and the goosebumps 
raced down her arms.  This time he didn't stop her as she turned in his 
arms, grasped the sides of his face and pulled him down.  She kissed him, 
hard, parting his lips with incessant pressure of her tongue.  She fed on his 
mouth, moving in slow circles around his lips to return to his tongue.  She 
pulled back and looked into eyes of crystal blue.  "Now," she said.  He 
smiled in agreement.  Taking his hand, she led him the short distance to 
the bedroom.

She laid down on the bed, kicking off the sandals she had been wearing.  
He sat down with his back to her and began to rub his hand up and down 
her leg.  She slid a hand under his shirt and ran one fingernail down his 
spine, feeling the chills go through him.  He laid down beside her and they 
both rolled to face each other, kissing tenderly and slowly, drawing back 
and pushing forward, taking little nips at each other's lips.  She rolled over 
on her back and pulled him on top of her.  She liked the feel of his 
massiveness pressing down on her.  It shut out the world, so that the only 
things left were his powerful arms and the pleasure surging through her 
body. 

She lifted her fingers to caress the side of his face, running them gently 
over his lips, brushing his moustache.  His lips, God, she loved them.  
They were soft and pliant to her touch, warm.  He parted them slightly and 
she pressed one fingertip between them.  He licked and sucked the 
fingertip. Her eyes closed, only to shoot open again as he bit the fingertip.  
The chills came up her spine.  And just to help matters along, one of his 
fingers had begun to tease her ear, tracing its curves.  She leaned up and 
kissed him.  Their lips parted and the tongues took their own course, 
exploring territory that, though familiar by now, was still exciting.  His leg 
parted her knees and his thigh slid up and began to put gentle pressure on 
her crotch.  She responded by tensing her legs to increase the pressure . . . 
hmmm...tantalizing and delicious. 

She began to tug at his shirt, pulling it up and over his head.  She rolled 
him off of her and climbed up on his waist.  His hands immediately went 
under her shirts to clasp her breasts, caressing and squeezing them, finding 
the nipples through the bra and pinching them.  With silent accord, they 
pulled her shirt off and the bra was unhooked and slid off her shoulders.  
She sat quietly, while his strong hands found her breasts again.  His palms 
rubbing the nipples and the subsequent shivers beginning to surge the 
body.  The tension rising in her, demanding satisfaction.  But release 
would not be immediate.  It never was.  She leaned over and kissed his 
eyes, his ears, and his neck, and then, slowing, moved down his chest.  
The nipples were her goals.  He began to sigh and moan as her mouth 
fastened to them.  She sucked them, teased them, biting them, licking 
them, over and over.  Her nails found his ribs and began to trace paths up 
and down.  She wanted him squirming underneath her, calling her name.  
She liked feeling his pleasure rise.  She slid down further so that she was 
sitting right on top of his hardened cock, straining to be free.  She gyrated 
gently, twisting his nipples with her fingers, scratching them with her 
nails.  She moved farther down and unzipped his jeans and pulled them 
off, taking his underwear with it.  She sat back to admire her handiwork. 

She parted his legs wide and began to nuzzle his inner thighs, licking the 
creases and nipping at the strong thigh muscles, rubbing her hands up and 
down the outside of his legs, stealing occasionally back to the nipples, lest 
they feel neglected.  "Roll over honey," she said softly.  He obeyed and 
she began to massage his shoulders, leaving off only long enough to run a 
single fingernail down his spine or to trace curliques around his back.  She 
moved to his ass, kneading his cheeks, spreading them slightly.  She bent 
over and kissed his cheeks, licking up his sides to return again to his 
shoulders, his neck, and his ears, then back to his ass and the back of his 
thighs.  His sighs were music to her ears.  She loved his body and wanted 
to taste and claim it all.  She placed her hands under his sides and rolled 
back over, returning again to kiss his lips.  His arms stole up and encircled 
her waist, imprisoning her.  She laid her head on his chest and listened to 
his slightly erratic heartbeats.  They both laid there awhile, their breathing 
becoming more regular.

His hands went down her sides and his fingers began to slide into her 
waistband.  She rolled off of him and together they unbuttoned her jeans 
and slid them off.  She wore no underwear, preferring the feel of denim on 
naked skin.  He was on top now, poised over her, their legs intertwined 
and rubbing up against each other.  He leaned down and planted tiny 
kisses on her eyelids, which always brought a smile to her lips.  From 
there, his lips traced a path across her face and down the side of her neck, 
leaving a tiny trail of fire.  He licked and nuzzled her collar bone, until his 
mouth once again imprisoned her nipples, teasing them.  Her back arched 
and her hands grabbed the covers, her nails making scratching noises.  A 
soft moan escaped her lips or was it a "please," and for what was she 
asking?.  She didn't know, perhaps just for this feeling never to end. 

She felt his mouth leave her breasts, her nipples stiffening in the cool air 
of the bedroom.  He moved down between her legs with her stomach and 
hipbones his next targets.  These feelings were even more torturous, 
because of the fine line between sexual stimulation and being tickled.  And 
he knew it, nuzzling them, licking them, tasting them.  Her hands were 
stroking his shoulders.  Then he moved lower so that her hands fell back to 
her sides, gripping the covers, desperate for something to hold on to.  He 
parted her legs wider and his tongue began to trace lines up the inside of 
her thighs, over the top, and back down the sides.  Her legs were quivering 
involuntarily now and he rubbed them to still them, pushing them even 
farther apart in the process.  But he wasn't finished. 

A shock radiated out from the core of her being to her fingertips.  His lips 
had found her clit.  Waves of outrageous pleasure surged through her 
twitching body as he sucked it and licked it.  His arms were wrapped 
around her legs, holding them still, as he slowly licked up and down her 
inner lips, returning again and again to her clit.  Sublime torture, nothing 
should feel that good.  Nor was she sure of how much more she could 
stand.  Either she was going to come or she was going to pass out, or both.  
She knew a sweat was breaking out over her face and that in between the 
very audible moans her breathing was ragged, but he showed absolutely no 
indications of stopping, nor much sympathy for her obvious distress.  This 
left her with only one recourse.  She sat up and pulled away from him.  He 
would have gone back after her, but she put a hand on his shoulder and 
rolled him over on his back.  She wanted to kiss him and taste her sex on 
his lips.  Egotistical though it was, she liked her own flavor, even more so 
as the taste on someone else's lips.  The only other taste she like better was 
strong red wine or a combination of the two. 

With him on his back, she pulled back towards the top of the bed at the 
same time.  Crouched at his side, she placed a quick kiss on the tip of his 
cock, watching it jump.  Her tongue began to encircle the head, around and 
around.  It was his turn to moan now.  One hand lightly clasped his balls, 
rolling them ever so gently.  The other hand stole up to one of his nipples, 
pinching them, to make sure he was awake.  He was. Her mouth closed 
over the head and she began to suck hard; her tongue finding his little 
opening and pressing at it.  She heard a distant "aaahhh," but she was now 
fully intent on her work.  Her mouth slowly began to work down the 
length of his dick, pausing to return to the tip and more tongue massage.  
Finally, she had all of it in her mouth and she began to move back and 
forth, letting her tongue move around and around it.  She quickened her 
pace and the subsequent moans became much more distinct and the 
breathing more ragged.  Her fingers became a bit rougher with his nipples, 
pinching them hard, her nails raking down his side.  She would have been 
quite happy to go like this all night, keeping him in suspense for as long as 
possible.  However, it seemed he had other plans.  A hand reached for her 
ankle, pulling her legs out from underneath her.  She didn't release him, 
but she did help him roll over on his side.  She streched out on her side 
and went back to work.  Another shock went through her body, as his lips 
unerringly found their mark. 

(to be continued?)

So. . . . .what happens next?



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