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From: gemboy@hotmail.com (Gem*Boy)
Subject: ASHLEY (MF, rom)
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ASHLEY (MF, rom)
by Art Montage
----------------
As Ashley stepped into the room, she could smell the roast. The aroma
filled the room and already she felt relaxed. The smell of dinner being
cooked for her was appealing and it reminded her of holidays when, as a
child; she remembered the house bustling and food being prepared for the
family.
Grant let his eyes swallow her up. He was a bit nervous, but things
were going well. Ashley had to work late and had agreed to let him come
into her house to cook dinner.
He had gotten off work three hours before and had started preparing
dinner shortly after that. The whole experience tweaked his voyeur
instincts. Though everything was quite innocent, the fact that he had
been in her house when she wasn't there gave him a weird sense f power.
It wasn't as though he was seeing -- or even looking for -- things that
were private and intimate to Ashley, it was just titillating to be in the
home of a woman he adored. Being able to room the house made him feel a
bit like a peeper.
At first he had consoled himself, telling himself he was just excited
about being able to please Ashley by preparing dinner. Of course, it
seemed like everything he came across reminded him how sexy Ashley was
and how he desired her. First he found a large bottle of virgin olive oil
in the cupboard. Though innocent enough, he thought of how he would love
to rub the oil on her chest and grind his cock against her breasts as she
licked the tip.
Of course when he used her bathroom, one of her bras was hanging over
the tub. And he could resist but to look in her room, where he saw her
camera perched on a tripod next to the bed.
For most of the time that he was there, he was in a state of arousal.
This was accented by the coffee he had been drinking. 'Wired to the
gills' he thought.
Ashley had just come from her office. Ashley now saw her clothes as an
uniform, but Grant always found glamour in the outfits she needed to wear
for the 'dress code.'
"Smells good," Ashley said, walking toward Grant. They embraced and
kissed. When they parted, she nodded at the bottle of wine on the table
and said, "Pour me a glass of that, while I change."
Next to the wine, was also the olive oil that Grant had used when he
fried some vegetables.
"I assume you mean the wine," Grant teased.
With a licentious smile Ashley retorted, "For now," and left the room.
When she returned she no longer was wearing the formal clothes she had
on and the stress of the workday seemed to had been shed as well.
Instead, she had on an oversized man's dress shirt. Grant had often
thought to ask whose shirt it was originally, but refrained. His
curiosity never out-weighted the sheer ardor he felt when she wore it, so
he never asked.
She wore the shirt around the house, mostly unbuttoned, with her lace
bra nearly fully visible. The bottom of the shirt fell to her mid-thigh,
right where her garter attached to her nylons. He knew she wore the shirt
for comfort and pure adulterated sex-appeal. Completing the ensemble was
always a pair of heels. She loved her heels, or was it she knew men loved
her in her heels? Either way, she had several pairs and she made the best
of them. Often not taking them off until well into an evening of passion.
"My my my," he said as she sat at the kitchen table, taking a sip from
the glass of wine. "Let me say it again, my my my."
Smiling both gazed for a moment. Playfully she stuck her finger the
glass he had put some olive oil and used her finger to draw an 'x' on her
chest. Salaciously she licked the finger. Grant's mind was in over-drive,
had she read his mind.
Ashley knew how to play out a situation, just as she knew how well
composed picture told a better story than words. Through the rest of the
dinner, she let only her image excite Grant. There were no more references
to the olive oil, in fact she set the glass of it on the stove when she
got the matches to light the candles Grant had on the table.
Almost as if they were in an argument, the spoke little during dinner.
There were a few compliments from Ashley; a question or two from Grant
about her work (which she preferred to not thing about); and a lot of
smiles, frozen glances and giggles.
After they had eaten, they cleared the table together. They cleaned up
the plates for the dishwasher and gently kissed a few times. Kisses that,
to the causal observer, gave no hint of the passion ahead.
With the dishwasher started, they adjourn to 'Ashley's bedroom.'
Whenever Grant said, 'Ashley's bedroom,' it was as if he was refer to a
shrine, which in many senses he was.
In the bedroom, Grant removed Ashley's shirt and they kissed. A kiss
in which they swallowed the desire that flowed between them.
Gently pushing Grant back she said, "get undressed....and the nasty
blanket is in the closet."
The 'nasty blanket' was actually an old blanket that Grant and Ashley
had often used for sexual adventure. From sex on the living room floor,
to outdoor trysts. Half of the time it was used to protect them from the
soil and the other to protect from soiling furniture and carpets. They
often joked that if the nasty blanket wanted it could blackmail them for
several transgressions that were undoubtedly illegal in a couple states.
Naked and erect he spread the blanket over the bed. He laid on the
blanket, awaiting the arrival of his princess of kink.
When Ashley had returned she no long wore her bra and as Grant
marveled at her breasts he nearly did not notice the wine glass of olive
oil.
She climbed onto the bed, straddling Grant. Without her shirt on, he
realized she had not been wearing underwear. Her naked sex rubbed against
his cock.
Carefully she took the oil and poured it on his chest, around his
nipples and down to his navel. With her free hand she kept the oil from
running off him, occasionally rubbing it into his chest. When the glass
was empty she laid it to the side and pressed her breasts against his
chests.
Slipping and sliding against each other they kissed and rolled on the
blanket, until Grant was on top of Ashley.
Grant moved his body forward, until his cock was rubbing against
Ashley's belly slithering in the oil. Grant moaned and Ashley purred.
Rocking he pelvis Grant's thrusts were inching his cock to Ashley's
breasts. This dilly-dallying of excitement was leading Grant to an orgasm,
as well as Ashley's lips.
He propped himself up as he pumped against her chest. Ashley had
wedged her hand between Grant's cock and belly and was pushing his
erection against her chest. Every third or fourth stroke he would plunge
up to her lips and her tongue would dart out, flicking the head of his
penis.
Ashley sensed how close he was to coming.
"Is my baby gonna cum?" She said in a low seductive tone. "Give me
your pearly necklace."
Grant pulled his hips back, away from Ashley's mouth, to where his
balls were resting against he belly. With her belly, she could feel his
balls pump. Like a school girl, she felt herself start to squeal as sperm
spurted onto her breasts.
As his orgasm pumped onto Ashley's chest, Grant arched his back and
kissed her. Balancing with his left hand, he moved his right hand to her
chest and mixed his sperm with the olive oil. He kneaded his cum into her
breasts and nipples. As he did so, se pushed her hips up against him.
With his oily, cum-soaked fingers he reached back to Ashley's clit. He
began to finger her to her first of many orgasms. He realized tonight was
one of those nights the 'nasty blanket' would learn a few more stories.
--
/\
//
{{ _
\\ ____/ |
\\ {______|
|| || i will take you
|\\_____________ || for a ride
||\\_cannondale__\\
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||\ (/ // \\
/||\\ __ || \
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