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Subject: {ASS} Flash by Lord Malinov
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Flash
by Lord Malinov
<malinov@mindless.com>

~~~

"A ship without sails is like a woman without breasts."
  - Greek Proverb

~

I have always been a creature of habit, fixed in my ways, trodding a 
well-plotted course to an expected conclusion.  I waved the standards 
of causality and efficiency in my battle with chaos, putting each 
thing in its place, adopting the path of least resistance.

Then my doctor told me to start running.  The young Indian in his 
starched white smock looked me in the eye and calmly threatened me 
with death.   

"But," I said, starting to enumerate the reasons why my schedule 
would not permit me the luxury of a morning jaunt around the block.

"You will die," he scolded.  "Do you have time for that?"

I conceded the point and stopped at the sporting goods store on my 
way home.  I bought several smart looking shirts, loose fitting 
shorts, two pairs of sweats and an expensive pair of running shoes.  

"Can I get you anything else?" asked the young man behind the
register, smiling indecently as he tolled the sum.  I could tell
instinctively that this fellow would only waste the commission he
was about to earn on the sale.  A fool and his money, as they say.

"Maybe I could hire someone to run for me." I said.

"When do you want me to start?" he said with a laugh, handing me the 
credit slip to sign.

I have always credited my success to the fact that I never allowed 
anyone else to run my business.  I make my own decisions and I do 
things my way.  I tied my new sneakers and started running slowly, 
methodically making my way around Glade's Park.

After the first leg, I decided it was time to take a short breather 
and collapsed on a wooden green bench.  My heart pounded like 
a kettle drum as I fought the fire in my lungs for a desperate gasp 
of air.  I wondered if running wouldn't just kill me faster than not 
running.

My pulse eventually slowed to the point where I could feel the cool 
spring breeze and I sat up, resting my forearms on my thighs.  
Children laughed by a small pond where they maneuvered toy boats with 
long sticks.  A starling twittered among the buds of a soft maple.

"Hey," a young woman said as she approached my resting place, "you 
have the time?"  It took me a moment to realize she was speaking to 
me and another to look at my watch.  She jogged in place while she 
waited for my response.

"Ten twelve," I said.

"Thanks," she said with a smile and dashed down the asphalt path.  I
watched the young fawn as she ran headlong toward a bright yellow 
wall of forsythias. Her lean legs moved almost effortlessly as she 
took her long stride, the muscles of her bare thigh stretching taut 
as she scarcely touched the ground and vaulted herself forward.  An 
impetuous gust of wind followed, chasing her into the park.  I felt a 
tingle of interest as I watched the shudders of her firm bottom 
underneath her tight blue satin shorts.

"Running isn't so bad," I mused and leaned back again.  "A few more 
minutes."

Finally gathering myself together, determined to go on in my quest 
for life, I stood up.  Six pigeons waddled and cooed as they pecked 
the gravel near an overflowing trash can.  I took a deep breath.  I 
looked right and then left and then smiled to watch as the young 
woman raced back around the corner, sprinting toward me.  Tightly 
bound full breasts still bounced slightly, enticingly fluid with the 
stroke of each long stride.  Her golden hair streamed behind her as 
she ran.  Seeing me, she slowed and came to a near halt, still 
jogging in place.

"Time?" she said, panting smoothly.  The woman smiled beautifully.

"Hmm?" I asked.

"How long?"

"Oh," I said, looking at my watch.  "Ten eighteen."

"Six," she said.  "All right.  Thanks."

"No problem," I said.

"You going to run?" she asked.  I shrugged my shoulders, embarrassed. 
 "Come on," she said, starting coyly down the narrow black path.  
"Run with me."

"I can't," I pleaded.  "I just started.  I'd hold you back."

"Nonsense," she said.  "Sometimes I go fast and sometimes I go slow.
 The whole point is to keep moving.  Come on.  It's more fun to run
with someone."  I smiled and blushed and moved my feet.  She matched
my deliberate pace, stride for stride.  She talked while  I 
concentrated on breathing

"Wendy," she replied when I managed to ask her name.

Despite my difficulty in running the mile circumference of Glade's 
Park, I am not particularly out of shape.  I mean, I could afford to 
lose a few pounds, but I'm not what you would call overweight.  
My lungs are burned out from a few too many years inhaling smoke, and 
my heart has grown rather sedentary.  Wendy encouraged me through 
that first long mile and then took me to her apartment for a cool 
drink.  I fell onto her sofa with a groan as she poured two tall 
glasses of mineral water.  On the rocks.

I've had my share of relationships through my years, but for better 
or worse, I could never quite get a woman to fit into my life.  I 
know I work too much, and I know that I'm a bit particular about 
exactly what happens and when.  I can face the fact that I'm not the 
easiest person to get along with, but I've always believed that 
someday a good woman would happen along and she'd fit like the final 
piece in my jigsaw puzzle.

I didn't know that woman would be Wendy as I sat in her apartment 
gulping down ice water, but we hit it off at once, and so while 
things moved quickly, it all came naturally.  We had only been 
talking for about twenty minutes when she pulled her t-shirt over her 
head, exposing the sturdy white athletic bra stretched taut across 
her chest.  My eyes probably popped out of my head as I stared at her 
large squashed breasts, but Wendy hardly seemed to notice.  I don't 
think she was trying to arouse me.  We were just that comfortable 
together.

"I hope you don't mind," she said, reaching back to unclasp her 
brassiere.  "I can't stand being tied down anymore."

"No," I fought to say.  "Feel free."  Wendy smiled as her breasts 
escaped their bonds.

"I will," she said.  "I do."

I did my best to maintain my part in the conversation with the 
topless girl, even as she kneaded the shallow welts her foundation 
garment had dug into the fair flesh of her bosoms.  I couldn't begin 
to repeat the conversation, although I could probably do a fair job 
of drawing the exact curve of her dark nipples, even though I tried 
my best to avoid looking at them.  Wendy treated me as though I was 
one of her oldest and dearest friends.

"Excuse me," she said, reaching to the table just past me for an ash 
tray.  "Smoke?" she said.  I fought for an answer.  "Live fast, die 
young, leave a good looking corpse," Wendy recited, pushing a
cigarette between her lips and lighting it. 

"Yes," I said.  Wendy handed me the pack.  I leaned forward and 
licked her rigid nipple.  "Yes."

"Oh my," she said with a faint laugh.  "I wondered how long you were 
going to keep me waiting."

We kissed and fondled, groped and stripped.  I fell in love at once 
with Wendy's soft firm body.  I rolled on top of her, but with a 
shove, she rolled me over onto my back.  

I'm usually, I don't know, fairly dominant when it comes to sex.  I 
guess I always like to be in control of the situation.  After the run 
through the park, however, I had only scraps of strength remaining to 
assert myself, and I surrendered readily, if reluctantly, to Wendy's 
domination.  She took hold of my stiff prick and after a brief brush 
of the crown over her damp lips, Wendy drove my stab into her cunt, 
burying me in a flash down to the hilt.  The sensation rushed 
exquisitely through my senses, and I trembled with excitement.  Wendy 
bit her lip with a wry smile, tossed her gold mane wild and lifted 
her hips to start the ride.  Wendy's silky wet pussy slid up my 
shaft, then down, up and then down, faster and faster in a mad 
gallop, but then suddenly slowed to a sweet canter.  

Wendy's tits, almost a shade too big as they hung before my hungry 
eyes, round creamy melons teasing my desire, shook in crazed circles, 
bouncing and flying, jiggles and flops.  I felt the heat rise within 
my loins and catching a thick nipple in my mouth, I let a 
spurting tribute coat her hot cunt.  Wendy laughed as I came, 
squeezing my prick with her tight pussy muscles.  I shuddered and 
groaned.

"You're incredible," I said sincerely as the last shivers melted.  
Wendy continued to ride, flipping her hips in a steady pace, 
caressing my satiated stick with her soft nether lips.  

I'm not old, but I'm not eighteen either, and I believed without 
shame that a short rest was in order.  Wendy shook her head as if 
reading my mind.  "I can't," I murmured.  She lifted a tit to her 
lips and sucked a hard nipple, her ass bobbing as she drove my weary 
dick on.

"Come on, big boy," she moaned sweetly, "you can't stop now."  I
took a deep breath and Wendy picked up the pace, bouncing her
titties so they brushed my dry lips.  "One more mile and you can
choose your reward."  I began to stiffen as I let my mind roam over
a feast of imagined desserts.  Wendy purred with delight and rode 
my cock home.

"Can we run tomorrow?  Can we meet for lunch?  When can I see you?" I 
asked, anxious to pencil in our next rendezvous.

"Keep running," she said.  "I'll be around."  A wave of panic must 
have crossed my face.  "Call me," she said, giving me her number.

"Tonight?" I asked.

"Whenever," she answered.

We met in the park, from time to time.  I couldn't find a pattern to
her days, no schedule which I could anticipated or follow.  Some
days she was there, some days she wasn't, sometimes earlier,
sometimes later.  Wendy didn't seem to really care if she ran into 
me, but she always seemed to enjoy herself when we were together.  I
called her apartment more often than I should have, but she never
answered the phone anyway.  One Thursday afternoon, much to my 
surprise, Wendy picked up the phone.

"Can you take off tomorrow?" Wendy asked.  If anyone else had said 
such a thing, I would have laughed while rejecting the suggestion.   
My mind raced through the brim-packed day of meetings, conferences 
and inspections I had already planned.

"Yeah," I said, shocked at myself as the words passed my lips.

"Meet me in the park," she said and hung up the phone.

"What time?" I screamed into the buzzing phone.  I dialled her number. 
 No one answered.

I waited in the park for three hours until Wendy showed up.  I had 
been afraid to move, afraid I would miss my chance to see her.  She 
strolled up to the park bench, smiling almost as if she was surprised 
to see me.

"Come on," she said.  "I need to go shopping first."  I tripped along 
beside her, faithful lapdog I had become.

Wendy wore a short beige skirt and blue silk shirt.  My mouth
watered as I stole glances at the pretty blonde girl beside me.  I
strutted proudly when we walked past Bob Jenkins on the street, a
shark I had been negotiating with the day before.  I could feel the
flash of bitter envy and I loved every minute.  Wendy looked
better than a deal closed under market.

"White sandals," she explained as we walked into the department 
store.  "I realized that what I really need is a good pair of white 
sandals."  I nodded, my thoughts escaping for a moment as I wondered 
if Davis could handle the meeting with Fujitsu.  "These look good," 
she said, picking up a pair.  A young salesgirl rushed to greet us.

"Sevens?" Wendy asked, handing the dark haired woman the leather 
shoe.

"Sure," said the salesgirl.  Wendy took a quick stroll around the 
display.

"Sandals are tricky, because they have to bite right if you're going 
to walk in them.  Shoes are much easier."  I nodded, hoping Millie 
remembered to call Franklins with our orders.

"Here you go," said the salesgirl.  Wendy took a seat and the 
salesgirl pulled up a short bench to sit near Wendy's feet.  The girl 
unfastened Wendy's shoe and took a sandal from the box.  She 
slipped Wendy's toes under the white straps.

"Oh," said the salesgirl and I looked at her curiously.  Her eyes
wide open, she flushed as she fumbled with the sandal.  Her cheeks
deepened to a dark red as the blush toyed with a frown and then a 
flicker of a smile as the girl looked away and then up at me and 
finally back to Wendy as she managed to secure the buckle.

Wendy walked over to the slanted mirror and vogued her bound foot in 
a variety of poses.  She shook her head.  "No, not quite right."  She 
sat down and let the salesgirl remove the shoe.  They exchanged 
flirtatious smiles and we walked back into the sunshine.

"What was that?" I asked.

"I'm not wearing panties," said Wendy.  "I'm such a tease."

"Wow," I said.  "But . . ."

"Excitement keeps my blood flowing," Wendy explained.  "When I do 
something like that, I make the world a sexier place.  I've given 
her an idea, showed her what can be done, dared her even, and there's 
a good chance that she'll pass the sexiness along.  Doesn't that make 
you feel good, knowing that pretty thing will soon forget her 
panties, too?"  I considered the notion and raised my eyebrows for a 
smile.

"Anyway," Wendy said, "let's get some food."

"But what if she'd made a scene ?" I began, still shocked at her 
casual manner.  My mind raced with all the trouble her little 
oversight could cause.

"I'm only going to be in town a few more days," Wendy said.  
"And flashing isn't the kind of scandal that travels."

My heart sank as the words passed her lips.  Self-contained as I
prided myself on being, I had begun to hope.  Wendy had seemed like
the perfect woman for me, flighty and chaotic, but still undeniably
perfect.  Moreover, after six weeks of being involved, she had never 
once complained about my work, which was usually the gripe that 
chased my girlfriends away.  Having found her, I just couldn't let 
her go.

"Why are you leaving?" I asked.

"I scout talent," she replied, munching her salad.  "I never stay 
anywhere long.  I have to go where the players are."

"But, does this scouting pay well?"

"Not quite," she said, laughing.  "Enough to clothe and feed."

"Then why do it?"

"Why do anything?  I like to keep moving.  I want to see the world, 
meet people, experience life."

"Oh," I said, playing a fork through my congealed gravy. "I hope I've 
been a good experience."

"Come on," she said.  "We've enjoyed our time together.  Let's enjoy 
the rest."

"I could give you a job," I said.  "We could always use someone with 
your energy."

"I love you," she said with a laugh, "but I'd go crazy in a gilded 
cage."

"I'll go crazy without you," I said, sadly.

"Come on," said Wendy, taking my hand.  "Let's go dancing."

We found a crowded club and fought our way through a thick throng, a 
heavy haze of grey smoke, the thick scent of spilled ale.  The music 
throbbed with a steady pulsing beat.  Wendy began to wiggle her hips 
as we worked our way to the center of the dance floor.  I looked 
confused, I'm sure, unused to shaking myself loose in a crowd.  Wendy 
looked into my eyes and lifted her skirt slowly up her thighs.  I 
shook and jumped, turned and bounced.  Wendy danced so provocatively 
I thought they'd throw us out, but they didn't.  Worn and excited, we 
finally left.

I took her back to her place and devoured her, prodded her, squeezed 
and drank her.  Wendy gave herself to me in every way I could dream 
to want and as the first ray of dawn kissed the windowpane, I fell 
into a fitful slumber, a tear tracing down my cheek.

When I awoke, Wendy was gone.  I waited for an hour, but then dressed 
and went to the park and sat down on the bench.  The birds sang 
and the children played and I sighed.  Wendy raced around the corner.

"Time?" she asked, laughing.

"Not too late," I said.  "So, where are we going?"

"How about Dayton?"  she asked.  I grimaced.  "They've got a young 
sculptor there some of the better galleries have been vying for."

That afternoon, we got on the plane, and with that single step, I 
left my whole world behind.  I made some calls and Davis has 
done a fine job running the business. 

"Any instructions?" he asked when I talked to him last, a little 
nervous about some proposed acquisitions.

"Just keep moving," I told Davis as I tickled Wendy's bare foot.  
"Life's too short to sit still."

~~~

Flash
by Lord Malinov

<malinov@mindless.com>

-- 
Power belongs to those who dare. . . Sapere Aude


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