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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
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Reinventing Ashley
by Peter Pan (uds3@hotmail.com)
***
Being continents apart is but a small price to pay when
you "meet" the right girl. Nothing your American
Express card can't handle. (MF, rom)
***
Sometimes you see a girl and you know the search - it
may even have been life-long - is over. That’s how it
was when I first saw Ashley. Just a photo you might
think, but it was more than that. Smiling out at me
from her secret garden, that beautiful dark hair
cascading around her shoulders, the late afternoon
sunlight glinting off the rather tasteful little gold
chain around her neck, she needed to be loved,
possessed, completely spirited away to distant realms
of passion that she had never experienced and which I
knew instinctively, only I could ever show her.
Understand if you would, this was not a case of
delusional self-appraisal, merely a statement that I
somehow knew to be true.
Like the spring blossoms adorning the tree behind her,
she would bloom for me, but like spring itself, the
window of opportunity would be only brief. I wanted
her, more than any girl I had ever met and after two
marriages, leaving me to bring-up wall to wall children
as a single parent, that believe me, was no idle
commentary.
How then did I come by her photograph?
I am a writer in my spare time (as opposed to a
professional writer I hasten to qualify) and have
published amongst other basically non-profitable works,
several net-based articles that might diplomatically be
referred to as "of an erotic nature." By chance, Ashley
stumbled across a few of my self-indulgent ravings and
probably out of disbelief that anyone could freely
compile such questionably risque literature, made
contact with me and at my request, sent the
aforementioned photograph.
That very night I resolved not only to meet her but to
fulfil that which I knew without the least shadow of
doubt had always been both our destinies. Convenient
cop-out that it sounds, I have always believed it is
souls which fall in love...not prescribed age-groups.
If the opportunity looms out of the mist when you are
seventy-two, then so be it... it was supposed to! What
is better? to have been loved and cherished for a
decade? or to suffer through a life-long marriage of
misery and incompatibility which never resulted in a
solitary day’s purpose or togetherness? Damn it all, I
should have been a clinical psychologist!
Now, living in different countries might be said to be
problematic. Fact is, it is merely a setback, most
likely orchestrated by a higher form of existence
merely to test one’s resolve. With the passage of time
and the increasing availability of communications
technology, I came to know her as I realised soon
enough I had always known her - just beyond the fringes
of my consciousness. We chatted on messenger services,
exchanged emails, I even wrote stories for her.
Initially, despite my relational philosophy, I deeply
regretted our age-differences – more from her
perspective than mine. She was a young girl boarding
the train at the first stop. I had been using the line
since they shunted the Cherokee and Sioux off to their
flinty reservations and usurped their lands to complete
the railroad west.
But time is a wonderful thing. Emotions grow, hair-loss
matters less. Goddamn it, what half-intelligent woman
would knock a night back with Sean Connery? and he was
bald at 30! Besides... from some angles and in some
lights, the strands still hold their own.
It took a while to organise, but as the plane headed
east across the Pacific Ocean and I sat gazing out at
that blue-tinged finger-painting below, my mind
returned to Ashley’s photograph. I took it out,
noticing yet more detail, the lightest application of
an almost light-apricot mascara, a trace of lip gloss.
She was just so lovely. Her eyes promised many things.
Affection, warmth, loyalty and I hasten to add, a
healthy degree of cheekiness. I recognised that little
eccentricity from living with my three youngest
daughters – but that is definitely another story. I
think she would understand if I confess now that
physically I wanted her as much as I did emotionally
and I knew with absolute certainty that I could deliver
on all fronts that which she needed. I was bringing it
home to her!
Where she lives is of no consequence to this story,
merely that a combination of international and domestic
flights delivered me to her doorstep as it were. I have
though, omitted one significant detail – she had been
unaware of my coming, although in previous months I had
made every promise to her that whatever it took, I
would make the journey.
As I sat in my hotel suite quite late that afternoon I
was in two minds as to whether I should call her
cellphone then and there or wait until later in the
evening. Having always been impulsive by nature – I
punched in the numbers.
"Doing anything tonight?" I whispered, upon hearing her
answer.
She recognised the accent. "Noel?"
Even that one word completed a cycle. I wanted to hold
her. Actually, I wanted a whole lot more.
"Yep, its me Ashley. Look I just wanted to say, I’m
gonna be out of town all weekend, so I won’t be able to
chat with you much. Just a business trip which came
up." She sounded disappointed. This was such exquisite
torture!
"Yeah, well I’m staying at the "Cambridge" Hotel, so
I’ll maybe have a few minutes after meetings."
"The Cambridge?" she said, "That’s a coincidence...we
have one of those here."
"Yeah, I know," I teased her, "Corner of Bracken and
Pacific Boulevarde isn’t it?"
A brief pause. I felt her heart racing, heard her mind
running the numbers. It wasn’t really possible... was
it?
"You’re here aren’t you?" she finally got out.
"Well to be honest," I said, "I am new in town and
would have just liked to share dinner with someone."
"Give me an hour." She pleaded, all but breathless.
"What? I replied. "I travel thousands of miles to see
you and you expect me to wait another hour? How lame’s
that? Make it forty-five minutes or I’m calling the
nearest escort agency!"
Not sure who hung-up the quickest.
I sat on the bed unpacking my few things. That
beautiful long hair was shortly to be on-site, ready to
have my hands running through it. You know what I was
thinking of more than anything though? Just holding her
– even for a moment would have been worth the whole
trip. I would feel her unique warmth and be able at
last to kiss that soft little spot just beneath her
hairline on the nape of her neck. It had waited such a
long time. I wondered if she had delicately shaped ears
– soon I would find out.
If I said I was nervous, I would be lying. How could
one be nervous about meeting a person they had come to
know as well as themselves? What I was, is anxious!
Anxious to complete something that had been set in
motion years before ever either of us knew anything
about it.
A gentle knock at the door offered up two
possibilities. Either room-service or my photograph
come to life. I really was sweating on that toasted ham
sandwich and latte coffee.
Opening it, I could have done a multitude of things.
Said "Hi Ashley, nice to see you, come in." Shaken her
hand and commented on her good dress sense. Pushed past
her, looking for room service down the hallway or at a
pinch, shove her up against the door and rape her.
What I did do was to just look at her eyes – that’s all
you ever need to do! She was as beautiful on the inside
as I knew she would be. I hugged her, took her hand and
brought her into my room. Then I noticed her good dress
sense. Of course, having the great figure she did was a
majorly good start. Rather nice, short and clingy
little navy blue skirt, teamed with a plain but good
quality beige top that was doing little to mask its
extremely well-sculptured contents, themselves being
cared for, it appeared, by an unobtrusive frilly light-
colored bra. More on that later...definitely, much more
on that!
She smelled of youth and promise. Her beautiful hair
shone and danced unchecked across her shoulders each
time she moved. For now, that little hot-spot around
behind her neck was hidden – surely it wasn’t thinking
I would never find it?
"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked in all
innocence. Damn it, what would she have been thinking
if I hadn’t been?
"Why?" I replied, "I’ll tell you exactly why Ashley.
Not every day a treasured image turns up at your front
door. You are one lovely and desirable girl and well,
lets be honest, there’s no way I’ll be toning down the
‘desire’ part...sorry, can’t change the programming!"
She smiled and hugged herself in that appealing and
sexy little way that girls do instinctively and just
looked up at me from the chair I had led her to.
"Anyway sweetheart," I continued, "This was first and
foremost a dinner date. What say we go eat?"
The hotel’s mini-bars may not have been that well-
stocked on a world ranking but hey, the restaurant had
cornered the market on steak fillets and champagne
options. We supped elegantly even if the waiter was a
tad on the limp-wrist side –I think he had od’d on the
cologne. Probably his sister’s Estee Lauder.
Be easier to list the things we didn’t discuss during
that couple of hours than the topics we encroached
upon. Graduating college to Al Queda, books to movies,
Aussie beaches to life in the South. How disappointing
I was thinking - not once did I hear Ashley mutter as
she delicately fanned herself, "Ah do declare Noel,
if’n you ain’t got the cutest little old English accent
there. Why fiddle-dee-dee, it just makes me want to
take you back to school for show and tell." Gave me no
chance to reply, "Well frankly Ashley, I just don’t
give a damn!
A couple of lemon crepes wound up the calorie-session
admirably. By now, the champagne had seen to it that
just being near her was arousing areas of my body I had
sworn to keep in check. No-one told my testosterone I’m
thinking.
For all that however, just being there with her was
about as good as it gets. We took a late evening walk
around the block and chatted more. It was so very
relaxing and curiously as if we had shared such
closeness many times before. I held her hand as we
walked and so much passed through that two-way contact
I could feel her needs, her apprehension as to where
all this was leading. All I knew was that I wanted to
go there.
Returning eventually to my room, we shared the last of
the champagne and I asked her if she would care to
watch a movie with me. There were so many on cable,
took a while to settle on one - we chose SHREK 2.
Why is it, movies in hotels are so much better watching
them from the bed. Answer...duh!
We actually watched a fair bit of this one...probably
coz she really liked Antonio Banderas’ "Puss ‘n
Boots"...Zorro with a cute tail! What really put paid
to the adventures of Shrek though, was my finding that
exact spot behind her neck.
Girls are so stupid. Kiss their necks on the right spot
and they make hot little noises, and thrust their
breasts forward which leaves you no choice but to re-
locate your hands. In Ashley’s case, it was well worth
the relocation! Her breasts, even through her top, were
so wonderfully warm and inviting, I had to cup them
separately so as neither could complain of preferential
treatment. Outsize mammaries are for me the ultimate
turn-off – Ashley had the most perfectly shaped and
sized breasts, bridging the gap effortlessly between
young teen and serial pole-dancer.
Kissing her was but sensory-overload. When you touch a
girl’s lips with your own and feel her wanting...
needing... giving, it is such a turn-on and also a
privilege that she is responding thus. I told her she
was everything I had expected and more. I don’t know if
she believed me but I tried to explain that this wasn’t
why I had come, it was her. What we were doing was
merely the result of her being the beautiful person I
could feel – metaphorically speaking.
There is such a delicate line between crass sexual
groping and appreciative physical caress. It is a line
most girls are aware of and one that the average man
has no idea about. Most men look to be turned-on. The
majority of girls crave the physical sharing. These two
things are light-years apart and for the needful female
there is the awesome stumbling block that men, when all
is said and done, are simply adult boys. Most fifteen-
year old girls in my experience are emotionally so far
ahead of the average thirty-year old male...it’s a
joke.
Anyway, enough of the psych lesson. Ashley had slid
down a little on the bed and was looking so damned
comfy there. I was continuing to just gently fondle her
while I kissed her neck and shoulders – right alongside
that bra strap that was driving me crazy. I think from
memory, she was purring. SHREK was pretty much out of
the picture when I made the bold, if not decisively
forward decision to kiss her leg...just below the hem
of her skirt.
Finding that no slap across the face was forthcoming, I
repeated the gesture. Definitely a winner. She closed
her eyes and wriggled a little. I stuck with the manual
and very gently pushed her skirt up marginally. Still
no slap and with those extra few inches, was able to
kiss her now just that much higher up. Her eyes closed
for longer periods and those cute little sighs were
really most encouraging, I leant forward, pulled her to
me and kissed her on the lips. She melted. It was so
easy to tell her I wanted her and that I thought she
was the most desirable girl on the planet right at that
moment... why? Because it was true!
Easing her back down on the pillow, I just began to
undo the buttons on her blouse. She was breathing
heavily. I was lucky to even be breathing! As her
pretty little bra was exposed, I just knelt there
beside her and slipped a finger inside both cups, very
gently teasing her nipples. So soft was she – God had
deservedly taken out "Best and fairest sculptor’s
award" for sure, that night back in 1984 when her mom
had conceived her.
Her little top I slipped off and just looked down at
her lying there...so vulnerable and soo hot. Slipping
her bra straps down, I just eased her breasts free of
her bra and she almost whimpered as her arms came up
protectively.
Holding her hands now gently above her head, I lowered
my lips to her breasts and kissed both. She squirmed -
half in pleasure, half in anticipation I imagine. As my
mouth took-in her entire right nipple, the sensation
was for me exquisite. So erect now, she clung on to me
as I suckled her, first one side, then the other.
I can still taste her, recall how aroused she was
making me. I wanted to do so much to her, but this was
to be no rushed performance, I wanted it all to last
for ever. I turned her over on her tummy, and guided
her hands upwards on to the pillow held them there. The
scent of her hair was just so deeply intoxicating as I
nuzzled her neck and whispered how much she meant to me
right then. I began just gently massaging her shoulders
and letting my hands caress her. We really didn’t need
that bra, so unhooking it I just disentangled the thing
and tossed it across the bed. That left the more than
pleasurable ability to kiss her right down her spine to
her lower back.
Ashley was now in an almost constant state of wriggling
as I was left with the almost meagre challenge of
unzipping her skirt and sending it too, on its way. She
gasped a little, which seeing as she was simply clad
now in just a hot little pair of what might have been
young girl’s panties, was understandable really.
I had known from pics she had sent me months earlier
that she had a really hot little bottom. The camera
hadn’t lied, they don’t make them any hotter. At the
risk of incurring her wrath, I simply took a hold of
the elastic, pulled them down but half an inch or so
and kissed the upper part of her beautiful curves. Now
that did get a "nooooooooo" but I figure it was more
for effect than anything else, especially as I did it
again tugging it down even further and with no
resistance that time – just a gasp. I could have kissed
her there all night.
It was now at the business end of the teasing! I turned
her over once more and of course she gave a little girl
yelp and covered her breasts protectively. Hot as that
was, I had other plans and just leaned forward and
kissed her hard on the front of her panties. Ashley
forgot about her nipples and just gasping with surprise
I suppose, awaited my next move.
She didn’t have long to wait. Once again I kissed her
right dead center, making sure the pressure was such
that she would be in no doubt as to my intent. I love
looking at a girl’s eyes when she finally realises you
are going to make love to her. There is in them, that
wavering combination of sexual pleading, open
vulnerability, arousal, submission and an acceptance of
her immediate fate.
I gently but firmly tugged her knickers down, the sight
of which just about rendered me catatonic. So hot and
desirable was she I really could say nothing. I simply
laid my hand on her delicately pronounced labia and
idly slipped my finger between the lips. She was not
far off volcanic. I was not far off deranged! I can’t
be sure now, so befuddled was I with the sight, but I
think I asked some cretinous question like "may I lick
you gently?" Whatever dumbo poser I asked her, she just
nodded and I spent fully twenty minutes exploring her
down there. I recall so much caressing, rubbing and
digital stimulation, eventually one or both of us was
certifiable.
"Make love to me," she whispered, at which point I felt
like an emotionally retarded freshman. I did remember
how to make love though. Divesting myself of my own
pants was but a moment’s work. I then simply pulled her
legs up, parted them and holding her knees wide allowed
her to take a hold of my erection which she guided to
the promised land. I wanted this to last. Again, I
cannot repeat too often, the eyes are the windows into
the soul.
If you want to know what’s going on with a girl when
you make love to her – look into her eyes. Doesn’t
matter what she says, what hot little noises she is
making – that’s just the icing on the cake, look at her
and feel the passion.
That’s exactly what Ashley and I shared that night –
pure unadulterated passion. What may or may not have
happened in both our lives...before and after, cannot
vary the consequences of that evening. From my first
very gentle thrusts inside her, which elicited both
moans and a need on my part to take her deeper, right
through to my driving so hard into her that she clung
to me, a female completely on-heat... in all that time,
I never lost sight of who she was and the respect I had
for her existence. An ‘orgasm’ underplays descriptively
and quantitatively what we reached. We "touched" and
that, if you can manage it, is the highest pleasure
attainable. The moment stays with you because you
realise you got to somewhere special... with someone
special!
The credits for Shrek 2 were long over, when the haze
lifted. I lay beside her, holding her hand while with
my right hand, I traced around the outline of her very
damp pussy, watching the steady trickle of my semen as
it leaked from her and ran down the inside of her leg.
I allowed a small amount to gather at the end of my
finger and then raising it to her breast just rubbed it
gently across her still very erect nipple. She put her
hand over mine and we both cupped her breast like proud
new parents.
Having extolled the virtues of true love-making and
having endeavored to describe accurately just how
meaningful was that first union, there comes a time
inevitably when a girl likes to be fucked silly. For
Ashley, that time came not long afterwards. I knew the
symptoms. A dull red glint in the eyes that grows in
intensity. Provocative body movements, especially with
their hot little hips and asses, a sense if you like
that they want it rougher this time... more heat less
bleat. They turn up the sex, turn down the flirting.
You know immediately that what’s needed here is a cock
as far up their pussy as you can get it and from any
position you care to name... whatever is hottest! In
Ashley’s case, on all fours with her bottom headed
skywards definitely did the trick. Nor was I gentle
this time...so convincing was she – even I wanted to
rape her senseless.
To say, I took her hard would be to understate the
moment. I "gave it to her" is more the key phrase here.
It must have answered the call well enough – I remember
that hot little smile as I rolled her on her back
afterwards and how she clutched at her pussy with both
hands, seeking probably to stem the seeping tide.
She stayed the night of course and never have I spent a
more loving evening. Cuddled up behind her in her "S"
bend, I nuzzled her neck all night, lightly caressed
her back and hips. Whispered all kinds of loving
nonsense in her ears – much of which she would never
have heard, being asleep soon afterwards. Sometimes
during the darkness she would turn to me and I would
suckle her until I almost passed out with contentment
myself. Even asleep, I could make out her sweet smile.
Just once I was able to spread her legs while she was
on her back and penetrating her so carefully, I worked
at my mission until I filled her, while she slept
unknowing of the enormous pleasure she was giving me.
I knew long before the breaking dawn that my life would
never be complete without her.
© Peter_Pan 2005
"Imagine For A Moment"
http://www.lulu.com/content/69167
"The Complete Harper Valley"
http://www.lulu.com/content/106537
Autobiography: "Cool Among The Flames"
http://search.barnesandnoble.com/booksearch/isbnInquiry
.asp?userid=PQ0lfOLCgC&isbn=1411624149&itm=1
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. You only have one body per lifetime,
so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
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