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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
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2010. Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your
consideration.
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Ships that Parse in the Night
by John Thomas (johnthomas@compusurge.com)
***
A funny knock at the popular critic of porn stories the
once upon time was Celeste. I guess you had to be there.
(MF, humor)
***
It was on the corner of Strunk and White that I met her
in front of the bank building. She stood in front of the
bank in her vinyl raincoat with 24 hour cash
withdrawals.
Her face lit up when she spotted my car with sparkling
blue eyes and a friendly smile. She raised her skirt
slightly, which made my jaw drop open, showing a pair of
frilly panties. I caught my breath, a glimpse of her
stocking tops, and a whiff of her perfume.
Her beautiful blonde hair framed a gorgeous face that
hung down to her shoulders. "Looking for a good time,
honey?" she asked, adjusting her brassiere and smoothing
her skirt, which must have been a 36-B.
I couldn't speak; my tongue was glued to the roof of my
mouth which was still open. "What's the matter?
Misplaced your modifier or something?"
"Let's go," I croaked hoarsely, and followed her up the
steps of a nearby building with heavy feet. As she
entered her apartment she took off her coat; I admired
her mahogany chest.
I took her coat, an asprin, and a moment to think. "I
don't think I can do this," I said limply.
She took her eyes off the lump in my pants made by my
wallet.
"What's the matter? Can't get it up?"
It was true: her chest of drawers was on my foot and I
couldn't lift it. "Give me a break, a hand, or a couple
of minutes," I responded.
"But... I'm being followed... I'm under observation...
every word I say is being analyzed... the slightest
mispelling and I'm in deep trouble!" I exclaimed. "A
mysterious woman is tracking my dogs, or dogging my
tracks."
She lifted her eyebrows, her dresser, and my spirits,
since my foot was no longer stuck.
"Her name is Celeste, and she told me I had to do
this... but," I faltered, "she said I had to be short!
No room for long ones in her universe!"
"Forget her!" she cried, stamping her foot and shaking
her head, which was still clad in a shiny leather boot.
"We can lock the door and split all the infinitives we
want!"
Tears filled my eyes and I clenched my fists as they ran
down my cheek. "You don't understand!" I cried. "She's
an English professor, and when she stands in front of
that blackboard there's a pain in my heart, which is
usually green these days!"
"I have to! No, that's ending a sentence with a
preposition: ummm, I to have? To I have? Hell: I must!"
I yelled, mussed.
She showed me her pretty legs, her stamp collection, and
the door.
I should have guessed it. Outside, SHE was waiting.
She looked me up and down coldly. "Your participle is
dangling," she said.
Feel free to copy the above story in electronic space or
any other space you have access to. Copy it, sequelize
it, sell it (ha! you wish!), sneer at it, or whatever
else turns you on. JT
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
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. 4-million people around the world
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 67