Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: redragon@interserv.com
Subject: Orphan Annie (F, slut) [1/7]
Date: 23 Sep 1995 23:14:30 GMT

Note: This is a lightly connected series. Part Four of the first sequence
is missing. That should not disturb the reader. A second set of two
further stories follows the first sequence.

		   Orphan Annie's First Adventure

	This last weekend was a surprise for me, the first time I'd
"done" a married man (though god knows I've looked at 'em in the
past!). When it was all through, though, he could say he'd still been
(mostly) faithful.

	I threw this small party for a dozen or so friends Friday
night, sort of a kickoff for the July Fourth weekend. John came up
from The City, on his way to the Sierras for a weekend's backpacking,
something his wife never really liked. I think she went home to
mother, or some such. Anyhow, the party went late, and when it was
breaking up, John asked if he could stay on the sleeper in the living
room, rather than try to drive on at night to a dark campground. I
said sure.

	John and I made up the sleeper and then I went to take a
shower. When I came out, in my robe, he was in the bed and reading. I
said goodnight and turned to head for my bedroom when he made some
funny comment about what he'd just read. I laughed too, and went over
to see more. When he showed me the article, I recognized it and we
started talking. I was soon sitting on the side of his bed, listening
and watching. As I looked I realized what a real cutie he really was -
all that dark hair, the strong shoulders (all I could see of his
body), and those great teeth that showed when he smiled. I got to
thinking what a great find his wife had. Then, somehow, he made some
gesture and his hand ended up on my leg - and I really don't know how
to explain this, but my hand suddenly went there on top of his. He
looked at me funny and gave me a gentle squeeze as he tried to pull
away, which I returned. He smiled and said, "Ann, I can't. Really."
You know, The Speech.

	I just murmured and bent down to kiss him. Of course, the robe
fell open and of course his hand went inside it and about halfway
through the kiss I knew we were in trouble. We sort of stayed that way
for a while and then I moved my legs up onto the bed. His hand went
from my side to my back, and his other hand went to my butt, stroking
it gently. I pulled the covers from under me and ran my hand down his
chest and across his stomach. He was so strong, too! I nibbled on his
ear and he just moaned.

	Well, this was fun and all that, but he was right, he WAS (I
mean, "is") married, after all. His hand was now on my breast and I
was going to have to decide something, soon. I made a decision, sat
up, and then swung my leg over to straddle him. He looked disappointed
as I sat up, and then delighted as I moved my leg across his body. He
was on his back and I was sitting across his thighs.

	Now he could put both hands on my breasts. He was so strong,
and yet so gentle! His hands just sort of came up my rib cage and
stroked my breasts from underneath to the nipple. I found I could sort
of sag into his palms. I grabbed his cock and began to stroke it, and
then every once in a while, needing a little oral contact, I bent down
and kissed him or let him suck my tits. I was warm all over and every
part of him I touched was warm, too.

	Then his hand went around and began to play with my butt
again. I lifted myself up and moved up until I was directly above his
cock. I was really wet by now and could feel my cum running out. I set
my pussy on his balls and just stroked it up his shaft. Up, lift,
back, down, again and again. His cock was really getting wet! He just
moaned, and then moved his hand to grab both my cheeks. He tried to
move me just that bit farther up to where he could slide in, and I
really wanted to, but I knew things would be different tomorrow and
next week. "No," I said, "but wait." He was getting even longer and
really throbbing!

	His hand began alternating from my breasts to my butt. His
legs went up and then down, and I could feel his pelvis thrusting in
time to my stroking. His eyes were squeezed shut and that great smile
of his was all across his face!

	I could feel myself throbbing, too. I was working up a sweat
(I almost laughed out loud when I realized I'd now need ANOTHER
shower!) but he felt so good beneath me I couldn't stop. My clit was
bumping the top of his cock every time I slid up there and I was just
about out of control until - THERE! - and there again! - and again! -
I was coming and the contractions just wouldn't stop. I collapsed onto
him, with my legs wrapped around his thighs and my feet tucked between
his calves, my breasts crushed against his chest, and his hands
stroking my butt and my back. I really don't think he came, but he was
looking really good! Besides, it was too wet down there to really tell
in the half light.

	I would have loved to stay all night. But, like I said, he was
married and it just wouldn't do to have SLEPT with him. After a few
moments I tore myself away and staggered back to my bed, firmly and
quietly shutting the door behind me (no ideas, John!).

	I was asleep almost before I was in my own bed (cold sheets!).
When I awoke, it was late Sunday morning and John was gone. He'd
stripped the bed and left a pile of musky smelling sheets. I'm sure he
had to hike a few extra miles to get me out of his system!

Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: redragon@interserv.com
Subject: Orphan Annie (F, slut) [2/7]
Date: 23 Sep 1995 23:15:32 GMT
Orphan Annie's Second Adventure

	I don't know about for all of you down in the chilly Bay
Area,
but up here the weather was really nice Saturday. So nice,
in fact, that it encouraged me to engage in
another of my
exploits. Not that I planned it, of course.

	I packed a lunch and headed for the river,
the afternoon
being just too hot, even for mint juleps in the back yard. There
was some barbecued
chicken and a couple of Calistogas in the
fridge, so I threw them into the cooler with some ice, pulled
on
a swimsuit and covered it with some other clothes, grabbed a
towel and a book, and left.

	I have
this favorite unnamed spot by the river, sandy but
not too populated. You have to know the river roads
to find it
and I guess that even though it's a pretty good beach not too
many people know about it.
That's an advantage of being a local.
When I parked I knew by the absence of other cars that there
were
very few other people there, and when I walked onto the beach I
found one couple near the trail
back to the cars, another couple
far down the beach, and this one guy about halfway down. I'm not
terribly shy, and decided to have a bit of fun.

	He saw me coming and I saw him looking me over. I'm
not
Fawn Hall, but I get my share of admiring looks; this was
apparently one of them. As I walked
towards the guy I could see
he was worthy of some admiring looks himself: he was young
(maybe
twenty-three - I never did find out), trim, nicely groomed and not
too hairy. He also wasn't pasty white - you know,
the way some
guys get who spend too much time at a VDT. So I just set my
things down sort of near
him, but not right next to him, just to
see how he'd react. I stood with my back to him as I pulled off
my
shirt, being sure to stretch my back as I did so. I also made
sure that as I spread the towel out I was
facing him, so that
when I bent down he could see my tits (not the swimsuit doesn't
gap THAT much,
but he had a nice view of what little there is!).
I pretended to accidentally pull down my swimsuit bottom a
bit as
I pulled off my shorts. Then I laid down and reached for the
sunscreen.

	The sunscreen
makes me glisten, though I was already
beginning to do so just from the sun's heat. I spread it all
over, being sure to let him see how I tucked it under my top and
massaged my inner thighs. I lifted first
one leg and then the
other (a little Jane Fonda workout, here!) as I did the backs of
the calves.

	Just
as I was finishing my front, my audience got up from
his chair and walked over - a bit stiffly, as he was
trying to
hide a nice erection. His buns hardly wiggled as he walked - a
real nice ass. He offered to put
the oil on my back (men are SO
predictable!). Well, I thought I'd let that one linger a bit as
I opened a
Calistoga and gave it a nice suck, and then found out
his name was Bill, that he had gone to the same JC
as I, and that
he was indeed a few years younger than me. I handed him the oil
and flipped over onto my
stomach. I reached behind and undid the
knot at my back and asked him to go
ahead.

	Bill has done this before - he warmed the oil in his hands,
and started rubbing it in smoothly at
first, then later kneading
the muscles. I always appreciate experienced men! He stared at
the center of
my back, worked his way up to my shoulders, and
then came down my sides. I let him feel a bit of my
breasts, but
just the sides. He worked down to the waistline and then started
on my thighs. He was giving
me nice, long, slippery strokes, as
he worked his hand up to my butt. He paid a lot of attention
there,
sliding his hand beneath the suit more than once and more
than a little distance. He was enjoying this
as much as I,
though it WAS getting to be a bit more than I'd first planned.

	We had been talking but
soon that degenerated into a series
of murmurs as I just relaxed in the warm sun massaged by warm,
knowing hands with warm oil. I would have fallen asleep except
that my butt is a very sensual place
and I think Bill was
beginning to discover that. Eventually, I reached for my
waistband and simply
lifted my butt enough to push the bottom of
my suit down a bit; he pulled it the rest of the way off and
finished massaging and oiling all of my bottom. After awhile he
sat across the top of my things and began
to work my back again,
but this time very clearly he was reaching around to my front to
my nipples. Then
he simply lay down on my back and I could feel
his very hard cock nestled into my crack; it felt fine!

	I
opened my eyes and the other couples were not watching us
at all. I had Bill push up for a moment and
I rolled over to
take him into my arms. He kissed me gently and I used my lips to
nibble his. My legs
were together but his cock felt just fine,
resting just above my clit, very clearly a situation we both
wanted to do something about.

	My shirt comes to just below my butt, so I had him reach for
it and we
took a walk over to a nearby grove of willows. You can
imagine the rest. After we were through, it was
getting to be
late afternoon and I let him go - I don't think he ever learned my
name, and I don't know his
last name. But that beach'll never be
the same, and the willows are now named the "Mr. Bill Memorial
Grove" - at least by me.

Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: redragon@interserv.com
Subject: Orphan Part (F, slut) [3/7]
Date: 23 Sep 1995 23:16:43 GMT

		    Orphan Annie's Third Adventure

	When I was first stirring it was the crack of dawn. Beside me,
the bed was empty, warm but empty. I rolled over, sleepily still, in
search of the wonderful man who had brought me here last night, and he
was gone. I discovered as I came to that hugging the pillow instead
simply wasn't solace enough, and I opened my eyes to look for him.

	The room was just beginning to warm - there was a soft breeze
coming through the windows and the lace curtains sighed gently. Going
to be another hot day, I thought, but where's Larry? I listened, and
there wasn't a sound. Just the warmth and the musk scent of the
sheets.

	This wouldn't do! I'm not even sure where this apartment is,
I've no car, here it is 6:00 or some ungodly hour Sunday morning, and
I'm alone in a strange bed. Well, not totally strange... the champagne
bottle in the bucket looked familiar...

	Then I heard a rasp from just outside the window, on the
porch, and saw the shadows change. Larry? or a cat? I reluctantly
abandoned the warmth of the covers and fumbled for a robe I remembered
being somewhere in the bedroom. A very light, full length cotton
number, but enough so that at least I could step outside and be seen
as decent. Wanton, perhaps, but decently dressed.

	There was Larry, dressed in a pair of boxers only. Gorgeous,
muscular legs came out the bottom, and this very well- built chest was
above. On top, an aquiline face was squinting at the sunrise. I
stepped behind and rested my chin on his shoulder. "Watcha thinking,
Larry?" "Dunno, just seemed the thing to do right now." "Wanna come
back to bed with me? Are you waiting for anything?" "Naw, just maybe
the sunrise." "Can I wait with you?" "Sure, let's sit on the sofa."

	With that, we sort of fell onto an old, white wicker loveseat
he had on the porch. I curled up, head on his lap, and began to drift
off to sleep again. His hand went to my waist and I waited for the sun
to warm us.

	The sun was a long time coming, and I curled up even tighter.
His hand went to my butt and sort of snuggled me into a comfortable
position; I relaxed and was back asleep, very secure.

	In a few minutes, though, he was moving again. "Coffee?" "Uh,
sure, so early?" "Can't watch the sun rise without coffee!" He was
gone in an instant to the kitchen and I heard the pots rattling. It
wasn't yet really warm, so when he came back I must've jumped right
onto him. I was sitting across his legs, cupping the coffee cup and
lazing against his shoulder with my legs pulled up close.

	"Larry, wanna screw?" "Yeah, maybe, but let me wake up first."
"Larry, it's better when you're waking up. Haven't you ever awakened
already linked to someone?" He shrugged, but I noted that the boxers
had a new bulge in them.

	I put my hand there and confirmed that it wasn't just he fold
of the fabric.

	"Larry, it feels to me like you're ready now." I was
whispering, but don't know why. No one on the block was stirring. We
had the world to ourselves. His fly was gaping, so I slipped my hand
inside; Larry put his cup down and then took mine away from me.
"Here?" he said. "Sure," I purred.

	He took his hand from my waist and moved it to my breast, but
outside the robe. My other hand was pinned against his chest, so I had
to release his manhood to move his hand inside the robe. He was
beginning to get the idea! I felt a warm, coarse hand gently massage
my left boob, then brush the nipple, then cup me like the balmy Sunday
morning this was. He wasn't rushing things, and neither was I.

	I looked up from my chest and saw him smiling at me. I leaned
over and gave him the first kiss of the morning. Gentle, not even
probing, just a kiss. He returned it the same way. "Larry?" "Mmmm?"
"The champagne would have been better than the coffee... " "OK, I'll
remember. You didn't get too wired yet, did you?" "Lemme show you.
Come here." A gentle squeeze and I had his full attention, his mind
and his heart following, as the expression goes.

	In fact, all I ever really wanted was a thousand percent of
his attention. I really get jealous Sunday mornings. Jealous of the
rest of the day, jealous of the telephone, jealous even of the
sunrise. Mornings are meant for me and a friend, with no
interruptions. I think he was beginning to understand, but I had to
know.

	"Why'd you get up so early?" "I'm not used to someone who
sleeps like you... it felt too good... has anyone ever told you how
easy it is to share a bed with you? And I don't mean just sexually -
just that you snuggle right in and at the same time don't push. I'm
not used to that, and I guess I'm afraid of losing it." "Larry, I'm
here now. Tomorrow is tomorrow; even this afternoon is later. Right
now, I'm here. I want you to be, too." He was caressing my nipple,
now, and I was squeezing him every once in a while, just to remind him
how very "there" I was.

	Last night, he had really moaned when I tongued his ears. I
tried again, a bit of a stretch for my neck from where I was sitting,
but he just leaned right into me as I licked; I got the same reaction.
Gee, was Larry's middle name Pavlov? I stretched my legs out onto the
sofa, and let the robe gap. When he opened his eyes, the first thing
he saw was my legs, and he abandoned my breast to touch them. Here,
too, he was gentle, just stroking them at first, then slowly parting
them as he moved up the inside from my calves. I just watched his
eyes, as they darted from my face to his hand and back again. He
kissed me again, and I returned it in French. As my tongue went into
his mouth, his hand found my pussy for the fist time that morning. Ah,
timing is everything! I let his fingers move up and down my lips,
searching gently, probing softly, for an opening. My mouth played with
his lips, and my hand by now was stroking his cock to its full height.
I shifted so my hips would be right next to his balls, and my hand on
his shaft also rubbing his stomach.

	I could feel him rustling around in my fur. I was still a very
little bit tender from last night, but by no means dry! He soon found
the source of all the moisture and his fingers just swam through it. I
pulled his head down and let him know it was time for some tongue
work. It was leisurely at first, and then he got adventuresome. Just
as his head almost wholly disappeared under the robe, the day's first
car drove down the street, stopping at the stop sign just across the
road. What are these people doing here?

	Time to go inside. I pulled the robe together and stood up.
For Larry, the problem was a bit more difficult, but we made it inside
without anyone calling the rectitude enforcers.

	He climbed on the bed first and turned to me as I just stood
there and waited. He beckoned and I put a knee up, allowing him to
grab my thigh and the small of my back. I let him kiss my mouth, then
down my throat and chest until the robe fell open and I let it slide
to the floor. Larry pulled me up onto the bed and then kept going,
kissing first each breast, then my belly, and then burying himself in
my forest. My god, he was good! His tongue found and then circled my
clit. It found and probed my secret tunnel. He ran down the smooth
insides of my thighs and made me tingle from there to the top of my
head. I was on my back, his hands underneath my butt, his head between
my legs. I could just reach the back of his head with my hands, but
soon gave that up to hold my own breasts - I though I was going to
explode if I didn't!

	His tongue was bobbing up and down - my back was arching in
time with his tongue. I was sopping wet down my butt and all over the
tops of my thighs. We were going to have to roll over soon so he could
get what was going to be a very wet Wet Spot!

	Finally, I pulled him up, each of us panting. I rolled him
over and kissed him, then straddled him. I really like the penetration
I get this way, and after last night I wanted to try this, too, with
him. I mounted him, and felt him push the muscles aside as he entered.
Gently at first, for his shaft wasn't totally wet and some of my
contractions had already started. His hands went to my breasts and he
was just playing with the nipples; I had never seen them so long! And
I just kept finding more and more length to him, too - I could feel
him deep inside, now, I thought he'd have to push my cervix out of the
way! I pulled up a bit, and then down again: he nested a bit better,
and got better still the time after that! Clearly, a bit of practice
and we'd really make a team!

	I moved his hands to my butt, and had him stroke me there for
a change. He pulled and pushed at it, and got himself adjusted even
deeper into me. He was concentrating on me so much he was drooling!
This is the kind of attention I wanted!

	We began to get our rhythm together. It's exercise like this
that keeps my thighs in shape, and I love it! He tried to follow me as
I pulled up and then down, and each time the friction just warmed me
all that much more. I could feel myself wrapping around him, the way I
do just before a really big orgasm, and the tension was marvelous!

	Then, about two strokes before I expected it, I came. It made
me start bucking up and down like a thing possessed (probably was!),
and about halfway through I could feel him begin to spurt; for a while
I wondered if he'd ever stop. Not just once, not merely three times.
Each time I could feel the moisture practically slam up into me. He
just kept coming, and I thought I'd drained him last night after all
his exuberant pumping then!

	I fell to my side, he still inside. He curled up next to me,
and we dozed. Somewhere during that time, he fell out, and I think
that's what woke me. I shook him gently, and as he came around, I had
this big smile on my face and a bit of curiosity on my mind. "Now,
Larry, isn't that better than coffee Sunday morning?"

				* * *

		 [Orphan Annie's Fourth Adventure is missing]

				* * *

	Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: redragon@interserv.com
Subject: Orphan Annie (F, slut) [5/7]
Date: 23 Sep 1995 23:28:46 GMT

		   Orphan Annie's Fifth Adventure

	Even though we'd stopped going out a year ago, I was still
curious about Norman. He'd always been intriguing, he'd always made me
laugh and smile, and I remember his being dynamite in bed. But he'd
gotten serious about another girl (god, don't you hate to compete with
eighteen-year olds? and I'm not sure she was even eighteen) and
without much ado I'd just made myself scarce. No big scene a year ago,
but I wasn't going to be merely an irregular Thursday-night diversion
for him!

	But then just last week someone had mentioned him in passing,
in the single mode. It wasn't "Norman and Chris" but merely "Norman."
So I called, and knew as soon as he answered I'd got myself wrapped up
again. I loved just hearing his voice. He was delighted, even over
the phone he made me smile, and we eagerly set a date for a movie
Friday evening. I would come over to his place, and I knew there was
already a good chance I wouldn't leave until Saturday or even Sunday.

	When I arrived I presented him with a bottle of wine and a
very sensual kiss. I'd dressed in tight jeans and a thin crepe blouse,
and I could feel his hands warmly embrace me right through the fabric.
We decided to start the wine - so it could breathe for later, of
course - before leaving for the theater. I stood right next to him as
he maneuvered the cork out, so he'd catch the perfume I'd worn for
him; I know I was close enough to feel the warmth of his body without
even touching him. We toasted our good fortune and then left hand-in-
hand; during the drive over I kept my hand on his leg and he was most
terribly distracted. You give men just the hint of sex and they go to
pieces on you!

	In the theater I pulled his hand over to my leg as soon as the
lights dimmed. I held it down firmly as he massaged my thigh and then
slid up to cup my mound. He gently rubbed me so that I could tell he
hadn't forgotten a thing. My legs were spread wide apart and I held
his wrist in close to me. Pretty soon my breath was getting shorter
and shorter and I had to make him stop. My sigh of relief was almost
audible, for I was about to come right there!

	Then it was my turn. I reached down between his legs and
grabbed his balls. I could slide my hand up his shaft and back down
again, and even through the heavy fabric of his jeans could feel him
thick and throbbing. I kept that up for a half hour or so, and had to
quit when my arm was so tired from the contorted position that my only
other choice would have been to drop down on my knees between his
legs; it was a hard (!) choice, but the theater was too crowded to do
something obvious like that.

	So I squeezed his thigh, let go, and sat back in the chair,
resting while trying to catch up on the plot I'd been ignoring. He
put his arm around my shoulder just as the movie began to shift to the
romantic part of the adventure. Inspiration to Norman! He let his hand
drop down my front and squeezed my breast. I had only a slender, thin
bra on beneath the crepe so that I could feel every one of his fingers
caress me, and in a very few moments my nipples were quite erect. He
reached over and undid a button on my blouse and slipped his hand
inside. I was so hot I was surprised there wasn't steam coming out,
and the warmth of his hand just reflected right back onto my chest.
Audacious as ever, Norman then proceeded not merely to cup my breast,
but there in the theater to slide his hand beneath the bra cup and
directly stimulate my nipple. I was about to come right there, once
again! The sexual tension was so high I had to grab the armrests to
keep from jumping him there in the seat!

	Thankfully, the movie soon ended and we emerged into some
surprisingly cold night air. Well, the whole world was cold compared
to us! We went to get a bite to eat, where he and I played a marvelous
game of footsie. The wine didn't at all measure up, though, so we
rushed home to where we had something worth our attention(!).

	Norman lit a fire while I freshened up (and put in a
diaphragm!). When I returned to the living room he had two glasses,
the wine and some pillows all arranged in front of the fireplace. I
bent over and kissed him as he handed me a glass, and rubbed his
chest. He grabbed my calf in reply while I sipped the wine. What a
smooth, sensual bouquet! A good beginning to this part of the evening,
for sure!

	Then we stretched out before the fire and kissed. Gently at
first, our lips just sort of nibbling on each other. Then we drew each
other closer and really explored mouths. He put his glass down and
began again on my blouse's buttons, and I likewise started in on his
shirt. I soon was rubbing my hands all over his hairy chest, kissing
his neck and tonguing his ears, and he was fumbling with the front
closure of my bra. Once he had it open I rolled him onto his back,
pushed his hands away from my tits and rubbed my chest directly over
his. I was so horny now! With his arms pinned to the floor I wrapped
my legs around his waist and squeezed there, then ground my pelvis
against his. He closed his eyes and just took it like a man!

	When I let his hands go they went for my butt and began to
massage it firmly, exploring all of it from my waist to the tops of my
thighs, and as he held me down I could feel him growing and throbbing
beneath his zipper. I lifted up and began to pull his zipper down,
soon exposing his shorts and then opening his pants all the way so I
could reach inside. What a find!

	He was moist, and warm, and full of fun there! I soon moved my
mouth's attentions there and took him fully between my lips. He was
tasty, too. I started sucking, kissing, and squeezing him, all the
while my hand cupping and massaging his balls. In a very short while
his hips were moving up and down in rhythm with my mouth and I knew he
wouldn't be long in coming. When the spurts came I was swallowing it
all and kept sucking even after he had collapsed.

	After a brief recovery, he pulled me up to face him. I first
maneuvered his pants the rest of the way off, and then he began to
work on my belt. He had this great smile on his face that made me let
him do to me whatever he wanted! Soon, my jeans joined his in a pile
and his face was down between my legs, his hands on my breasts. His
tongue explored all the crevices and folds of my labia and soon I was
rubbing my mound up and down his face, getting him thoroughly wet. In
a last spasm I collapsed in a series of yells and was twitching on the
floor, like an epileptic, until I just fell asleep.

	I think he did too, because the next thing I remember is his
gently shaking me, murmuring with half-closed eyes. Whatever he said,
it had something to do with going to bed and I was all too ready.
Somehow, with unsteady legs, I managed to stand up and we both sort of
wobbled down the hallway, leaning on each other. We didn't get out of
bed for thirty-six hours, though we must have slept no more than five.
For that night and the next full day the only sunlight we saw was what
came in through the curtains blowing at the open windows. Well, Norman
did get up to get the champagne and bagels we had for breakfast, and I
did have to pay attention to the contraceptive supply. We would doze
and awake only to make love. Then we'd decide we were too musky (an
oxymoron?) and go take a shower, where I'd climb up on him in the hot
stream and we'd screw away, my legs around his waist and my arms
around his neck as as I pumped away and he swayed in the hot water.
Then we'd towel each other off and climb back into bed where he'd eat
me again. I wholly lost track of how many times I came, well over a
hundred. I was at once exhausted and exhilarated. After I went home,
Sunday was shot, of course, but I was exhausted for good causes: I
think I'm now bowlegged for life, and I think Norman has sworn off
inexperienced girls!

Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: redragon@interserv.com
Subject: Orphan Annie (F, slut) [6/7]
Date: 23 Sep 1995 23:28:56 GMT

		    Orphan Annie's Sixth Adventure

	Larry found out about Norman. Well, yes, I told him, but only
after he really got insistent about why I didn't answer my phone all
that weekend (come to think of it, Norman had unplugged his phone,
too... ). He was real upset, not that I'd promised him fidelity but
certainly I could understand where his hurt expectations had come
from. So I invited him over for dinner and a talk, and perhaps a
pity-fuck.

	I selected a satin slip-dress - you know, tailored, spaghetti
straps, trim fitting, low cut but not really dipping too far into the
cleavage. I picked up some fresh fish and veggies and put on a really
nice table and candlelight, but he wasn't interested. Poor guy was
really hurting, I could see it in his face. After all we had together,
etc., etc., he kept saying, and I could tell he just never believed
that the whole situation was merely a day- to-day thing. Funny how
guys never complain about who you've seen before, but they really get
hurt when you see someone later! When I explained that I hadn't
really given him up, just allowed someone else in, he seemed to
brighten a bit and his appetite began to come back.

	So I poured us a little more wine and let him talk. His work
had been going better, and he'd wanted to share it with me, and here
I'd gone off for a weekend with a year-old reject. Again, I patiently
explained how there'd been no long term promises, just mutual
enjoyment. We finished desert, I poured some brandy, and we retired to
the living room sofa. He was much more relaxed, and actually began to
ask after me (other than regarding Norman, of course). I sketched out
current projects... nothing he didn't already know about, but they
seemed to amuse him. But conversation about him was really short: How
was work? Ok. What about his spare time? Nothing special. Was he going
out with anyone else? No, of course not. Did he have any trips
planned? No, now that I wouldn't go along, he'd stopped fantasizing
about them. Well, where had he wanted us to go? Now he brightened and
began to recite a series of rather detailed itineraries he'd thought
through. A bit TOO detailed, in that EVERYthing was planned, but
surely they were all very romantic ideas for weekends or longer. When
I said I'd go along as things permitted he began to get excited again.

	He brought out some pictures he'd clipped, and I moved over
next to him to see them. He did have a great imagination, and his
enthusiasm was now really showing. When I reached over to point out
something in his books, I didn't mind at all letting my hand linger in
his lap. He didn't grab for me right away, but did shift over to be
right next to me.

	I poured a little more brandy and the evening drew on. We
began to plan a trip, selecting a long weekend and picking daily
destinations. Somewhere along here I kissed his cheek and he put his
arm around me. I could feel him checking for the (non- existent) bra
strap and panty line. Just as we finished I got up to get more brandy,
and when I came back I sat with my back against the far armrest of the
couch and beckoned to Larry. He scooted over and put his arm across my
waist. I sipped my brandy, gave him his, and asked him if he wanted to
stay the night. I swear he almost dropped his snifter, and then he
smiled; he leaned over and kissed me, and I put an arm around his
shoulders.

	When he sat up I put my snifter aside and took his, holding
one hand in his lap while I reached over to put his snifter aside. I
had to really stretch my arm and chest to reach, and I'm sure he
stared closely at the swelling beneath the slip's bodice. When I
turned back I reached up to pull him down and he pivoted his legs onto
the sofa as he lounged beside me.

	He still seemed so unsure, though. I stroked his head, and
kissed his lips, but he was hesitant. I took his hand from my waist
and moved it up to my breast, where I held it tight. His hand, massive
as always, was as warm and gentle as before. As he kissed my neck I
pulled my head back and just enjoyed all the sensations. He soon had
his hand inside the dress and then he slipped the straps off my
shoulders. He was getting the idea! Time to find a little bare skin
on this guy, too!

	I rolled sideways, so he could get onto the sofa better, then
began working on his buttons, literal and figurative. I would undo a
few then reach down between his legs for a good grab as I kissed him
deeply. Soon, his shirt was off and his pants were open. It wasn't
long before his hand was off my breast and was sliding up my leg under
the dress. I lifted my hips and he just pulled it off over my head as
I sat up. We then went to work on the rest of his clothes and when
they were off I took him to the bedroom.

	The sheets were cold but we had them warm soon enough. There
was a lot of exploring we did, sliding our legs over each other,
tongues in ears, nibbles on necks, fingers on genitals. I took him on
my side, and I could see him sigh as he slid into me. Right away
there wasn't the usual vigorous pumping, just sort of a slow and
gentle massage of all my innards. I ran my hands over his chest,
behind me to grab his balls, back up through his hair, and all the
time there was this gentle warmth suffusing through me. I was
tightening down but not yet near explosion.

	Then he rolled me over onto my back and began to pump more
quickly. He put his legs outside mine and the pressures changed.
Next, he started licking and sucking my chest again, and I began to
really pump back. When he came it wasn't for long but it was powerful,
almost like a firehose deep inside. I shivered, then shuddered, and
then thrashed about in a wild, slow-coming orgasm that left me
breathless.

	With the exhaustion that brought, and the brandy, I soon fell
asleep. Larry was there, gently again in the morning, and we repeated
the performance until the sun was at zenith. He left a little more
confident of himself and I lingered in bed, assured the attentions of
two wonderful men. Can life be sweeter?

Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: redragon@interserv.com
Subject: Orphan Annie (F, slut) [7/7]
Date: 23 Sep 1995 23:38:35 GMT

		   Orphan Annie's Seventh Adventure

	While Euclid found that a triangle was one of the most stable
geometric structures, it certainly isn't in human affairs. Well, I
knew that going into one, but the pleasures of the flesh are too great
for a mere mortal such as myself. I knew that I couldn't keep both
Larry and Norman.

	They are both great, and in different ways.

	Norman is pure, sizzling, unadulterated breathtaking sex; I
can't take him anywhere except my bedroom, but why would I want to? We
don't talk much, but we communicate nonetheless, orally and otherwise.
Larry is unsure of himself, and as a rough tradesman not someone my
father would immediately like (well, they met at a barbecue one
weekend, and it took a while for even some conversation to take place,
but at least he wasn't thrown out), but he's gentle and generous and
we have great verbal communication. Larry is really possessive, a
problem even in a monogamous relationship, and Norman doesn't care so
long as he doesn't get AIDS.

	When I raped Larry in the bathtub the other afternoon, though,
and he came back for more as soon as he was toweled off, I had a sense
that things were going to change. He had never shown that much self-
confidence, and all of a sudden he was less a toy and more a real man
to deal with. Uh-oh... I wasn't going to be able to hold on to all of
this.

	I guess Norman felt it, too, because the next night, after a
slow start he got really frenzied, pumping away in me almost
frantically for an hour before we both collapsed in a pile of musky
sheets and slippery bodies. God, he was like candy... you just can't
give up that kind of attention!

	Then, the next weekend, Larry took me out for dinner and
dancing. He was well dressed, he found a fabulous restaurant, we
danced and swirled around the dance floor until the place closed, and
then we went home and literally fucked until the sun rose. He ate me
until I was thrashing all over the bed, then he'd slide right in and
excite me some more. After he'd come, I used my lips to get him
excited again and we went at it all over. I had hickeys on my neck, my
breasts, my thighs and my butt, and the windows were well steamed in
the morning. I had to take a nap for the better part of Saturday just
to recover. I thought I'd sent Larry home, but when I awoke about 4:00
he was peeking into the bedroom with some fresh coffee, and almost
before I finished that we were at it again. You've got to understand
what a gorgeous man Larry is, and just how the contrast between his
coarse exterior and his caring behavior is so exciting: I really can't
keep my hands off him. He even looks better in the robe he gave me
than I do! And I just love sliding my hand up inside that robe because
I find such a wonderful cock to play with! Then he took me out to
dinner again and all he did was play with his food while his hand was
playing between my legs. He kept calling me "the most exciting person
he'd met," and I had to lie about Norman to return the compliment.
Which of these guys do I keep around?

	I HAD to get Larry out by Sunday morning, because Norman was
due Sunday afternoon. We went out for a hillside picnic, and after the
wine was gone the local eagles had a terrific view of human anatomy
until the sun went down. He didn't say anything about the hickeys, but
he must have seen them! Then we sort of curled up in the blanket and
dozed on the hillside until we awoke, shivering, about midnight. I
gave him a hand job on the drive back to my place, but insisted he
leave so I could rest for Monday's work. I was reaching a point where
I couldn't keep up the pace of keeping two guys up.

	So you see the dilemma. What do I do?

				* * *

From: rdragon@ix.netcom.com(***)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Orphan Annie Strikes Again
Date: 19 Jul 1996 16:14:03 GMT

		      Orphan Annie Strikes Again

	Erik gave me the robe. It was lightweight and cool, just what
was needed when the nights never really cool down. I noticed that when
I pulled it snug it showed off my nipples, but I really think Erik
liked it because when it gaped, it gave him just that little bit of
cleavage that men find so much more exciting. I liked it, though,
because it smelled of Erik, who much to my pleasure was turning out to
be a regular.

	Since I would be away for almost a week, I took the robe just
to remind me of him. I was running this convention - well, part of it
- and hotel living is supposed to be a bit more modest than tromping
around the house with nothing on. Not, mind you, that I expected to
have any real time to socialize, since it was going to be a series of
18-hour days.

	Well, there WAS going to be this ONE dance, the second night.
I at least would have enough time - if I wasn't already exhausted from
two days of work AND a day of preparation - to try out the floor. The
band was going to be halfway decent, so this one respite was coveted
just a little.

	Have you ever noticed how when you're content with things on
the home front is when you get some REALLY interesting attention? I
know men complain about it, saying that just when they're relaxed with
one woman is when they really get hit on, and I know there's something
to that, because when they're self-assured (or maybe just assured of
pussy?) they're just that much more attractive (there's this other
theory, which says that since they're involved elsewhere it's safe to
fool around with them; maybe that's true, too). Well, I was pretty
comfortable with Erik, seriously had no plans to fool around (not out
of commitment, out of contentment), and I was attracting an unusual
amount of attention.

	This older guy, not fat and horny like the stereotyped out-
of-town salesman, but trim, gray, cultivated, and probably about 50,
didn't say much but kept his presence known. He was just frequently
around, and more than once I caught him just looking at me... not
STARING like the psychotics, just an appreciative glance. None of my
coworkers knew him, and he wasn't ALWAYS around, so I just put it down
as nothing unusual. I had his name tag checked out ("L.K. Kendricks"),
and he was a rep from some obscure manufactory back in the Ohio
Valley, certainly no one I'd know. And certainly no one I'd go out of
my way to meet.

	I did go to the dance. Some of my coworkers had to drag me
away from reworking (admittedly, for the THIRD time) the preparations
for the next day's activities, but I did go. I thought I'd have a
couple of drinks and chat it up with them. Some had their husbands,
and one or two had found someone at the convention. What ended up is
that we got a table near the rear (like I said, it took a while to get
me out, so we were late) and before I knew it I was abandoned there.
The girls talked for only a few minutes, then dragging their guys out
onto the floor they had left me nursing a scotch. I was a little tired
and the scotch only accentuated it; before long I was thinking about
things long ago and far away.

	The reverie was interrupted by this rich, tenor "Good
evening." It was old LK, "Lawrence Knight" it turns out to be, another
Erik. Deja vu I was not prepared to deal with tonight, but I couldn't
just give a cold brush off to a kindly introduction. I got permission
to call him "LK" - he winced when he said OK, but I couldn't stand the
idea of "Erik II." He wasn't merely a sales rep; he was in engineering
and there was some new process here he was checking out; he had done
his job, in fact, and was leaving next noon though our "show" had
another three days to run. He was efficient and professional. More
importantly, though, he was generous, getting me to talk and, soon,
even laugh. I switched from scotch to Calistoga and before long we,
too, were on the dance floor.

	LK was a good dancer but didn't make me feel like the klutz I
know I am. When we were dancing apart he'd flash this smile that was
becoming quite charming, and when we were dancing close he kept me
smiling with a few bon mots. I was soon laughing as he'd point out
someone on the floor and give a complete description, based entirely
on their appearance, as to where they lived, what they were here for
(professionally AND otherwise), and what they were like at home. It
was hilarious: he'd start talking about another person, then spin me
around so I could see over his shoulder while from memory alone he
spun this incredible web of fact and fantasy that fit like a wet T-
shirt. And he moved so gracefully, I could feel through his jacket he
was fit without being rough; he was certainly easy going enough.

	When we took a break I got these sly, "I told you so" glances
from my friends. What could I say, they had me! When I explained it to
LK, he sort of smiled, and said he'd come to the dance just to see if
he could meet me, and I did feel flattered.

	When we were back on the floor, I told him I had to be back
reviewing preparations early the next morning. It wasn't late, but I
was really enjoying this and I'd let it GET late if I didn't extract
soon. LK sort of frowned, but let it go at that. He said he could tell
I was tense and tired, more relaxed than an hour ago, but still tense
and tired. Well, thanks a lot, guy (but it was all true)! He'd say
goodnight, then. By the way, though, would I have a break tomorrow
morning and could I come by his room before he left? 1402? Well, I'd
see. With a small kiss on his cheek I grabbed my purse and left.

	But back in the room the bed (a HUGE king size number - god,
what was the hotel expecting, a menage a quatre?) looked particularly
lonely. Sure, Erik would have been great, but Erik was not here and
Erik was - well, not permanent. Maybe, though, his robe would make me
feel better - no, in fact the smell just made it worse. Calistoga or
not, two scotches (were they doubles?) had gone to my head and I was
alone, lonely, and getting horny (it had, after all, been three
days!). I rang 1402, then hung up when LK answered; he was there. And
he was leaving tomorrow; this, too, would not be permanent.

	I put on the robe and not much else, put in a diaphragm, and
went for a massage. I figured there had to be a great masseuse in
1402. When he answered the door LK was still dressed, though out of
his jacket. He'd been sorting through his briefcase, and I could see
that my arrival was an unexpected brightener for his evening. As I
asked if the masseuse was still in I saw his eyes glance down to my
chest and it didn't take long to get an affirmative answer.

	First, though, he showed me around - probably just to convince
me there was no one else there, and that there had been no one else.
Not that I cared, for he'd made his availability very clear. I handed
him a bottle of baby oil (all I could find - I really hadn't been
expecting a need for the scented stuff). Erik - no, LK - took me to
the bed and helped me out of the robe. He didn't grab for my tits
right away, a little touch of class there, and had me lie on my
stomach. He sat beside me and slowly opened the bottle as he talked
about how my work reflected my self-confidence and how he really
disliked mousy women. Then he stopped, rolling up his sleeves as sort
of an afterthought; it took me a moment to realize the pause was just
him caring for his clothes. He began to rub the baby oil over my back
while talking about how good my back looked. The man was class all the
way - he dressed well, he talked well, he kept after himself, and he
made me feel really appreciated. Just what the doctor ordered.

	He finished my back (a few tough spots he worked out so gently
I hardly knew they'd ever been there!) and started down my arms,
stretched out over my head. I opened my eyes and saw him really
throwing his body into it. A little music? Sure, and he found a soft
jazz station. When he came back I lifted my arm up and rolled over
just enough to pull off his bow tie (NOT a clip-on job!) and undo the
studs on his tux shirt. Then I just fell back onto the bed and let him
finish my arms.

	I told him my butt was special - I'm really aroused by contact
there and I wanted him to take some care. As I helped him slip the
panties off, he said not to worry. The man was at once gentle and
generous with his attention. By the time he'd finished and started
down my thighs I was really squirming. I wouldn't even let him finish
my calves, I was really ready for him.

	I rolled over and reached up to his shirt, pulling it quickly
off. I sat up and reached for his trousers, startling him with my
speed. He slid his shoes off as I undid the fasteners and with the
suspenders down they just dropped to the floor. I laughed when I saw
the polka-dot boxers, but everybody's got a quirk, somewhere! When he
figured out what was so funny he joined in; at least I'd had the
smarts not to laugh and point!

	He climbed on the bed and we took each other in our arms.
First a tentative kiss and then a longer, deeper, exploratory one. I
put my leg over his, and felt the hair on his leg awaken every nerve
on the inside of my thigh. His hands moved from my back to my side to
my boobs, and then his mouth went from my lips to my throat to my
nipples. I lay back and felt this almost primal suction bring me to
full alertness. His lips and tongue worked my nipples, and his hands
worked my breasts. My mouth was open and I was gasping, already.

	Then, soon, too soon (don't stop!) he was continuing down. His
tongue explored my navel and that made my legs start sliding up and
down on the bed. His hand came up between my legs and cupped my
mound, gently, then squeezing firmly, and then a finger started
exploring. His mouth was kissing my entire abdomen and soon his middle
finger was sliding up deep inside me. He brought his mouth down and
his tongue played my clit for a while, then replaced his finger. God,
such a tongue!

	I had to return the favor. I pulled him up and then rolled him
over onto his back. I slid one hand underneath his waistband and found
what I'd been looking for and then with the other just pulled the
waistband down. It was gorgeous - erect, waving in the air, all pink
and throbbing. I kissed the tip, then the shaft. I licked the shaft
and massaged the tip. It was getting wet on its own and I had my first
taste of this man's love juices, something I always find hard to
resist. I took him into my mouth and started sucking and massaging, my
lips running up and down his length as I took him all the way back in
my throat. My head was bobbing up and down, my breasts were brushing
his thighs, one hand had his balls and the other was rubbing his
chest. It was a one-man band and he was making great music!

	He had me stop and I couldn't figure why - I was really
getting going. Then I understood, as he turned around and put his
head between my legs. Again, this fantastic tongue worked all over my
mound, inside and out. I had him almost swallowed and was feeling
great. We must have gone on that way for twenty or thirty minutes, and
I remember coming at least three times.

	But he stayed with me - I'd never had a guy stay up after so
much stimulation. Is this what you get with older men? His attention
to me told me he was still part of my team, so I guess this was just a
virtue of experience. But after three orgasms I really wanted him
inside and we'd find out just what he was really made of. I let go and
turned around - now both of us had our feet at the head of the bed.

	I took him in the traditional method, as his weight felt right
on me and he'd probably be able to pump just that much better. I was
right, for he slid right in and began a rhythm that had me coming
again and again almost immediately. Soon, his face screwed up and his
breathing changed and suddenly he was spurting these fabulous warm
gobs all the way up through me. I was writhing and must then have
passed out, between the pleasure and the scotch. I've NEVER done that
before!

	I wasn't out long, because the next thing I knew he was slowly
pulling out. Ohhhhhhhhhh. His smile was right next to mine and with a
last kiss I just rolled into him and went to sleep. I vaguely remember
him turning me around on the bed and his pulling the covers up and
over us, and I clearly remember getting my leg and arm over him, but
until he woke me gently at 6:00 (god, I could have slept till 9:00,
and missed everything! what a wonderful guy) I don't remember a thing.

	We had a little quickie and then I stumbled off to my room.
God, I could hardly walk! First Erik I and now Erik II. There has to
be something in that name!

From: rdragon@ix.netcom.com(***)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Orphan Annie - Sundays
Date: 19 Jul 1996 16:14:48 GMT

			       Sundays
				  by
			     Orphan Annie

	When I was first stirring it was the crack of dawn. Beside me,
the bed was empty, warm but empty. I rolled over, sleepily still, in
search of the wonderful man who had brought me here last night, and he
was gone. I discovered as I came to that hugging the pillow instead
simply wasn't solace enough, and I opened my eyes to look for him.

	The room was just beginning to warm - there was a soft breeze
coming through the windows and the lace curtains sighed gently. Going
to be another hot day, I thought, but where's Richard? I listened, and
there wasn't a sound. Just the warmth and the musk scent of the
sheets.

	This wouldn't do! I'm not even sure where this apartment is,
I've no car, here it is 6:00 or some ungodly hour Sunday morning, and
I'm in a strange bed. Well, not totally strange... the champagne
bottle in the bucket looked familiar...

	Then I heard a rasp from just outside the window and saw the
shadows change: Richard? or a cat? I reluctantly abandoned the warmth
of the covers and fumbled for a robe I remembered being somewhere in
the bedroom. A very light, full length cotton number, but enough so
that I at least could step outside and be seen as decent. Wanton,
perhaps, but decently dressed.

	There was Richard, on the balcony and dressed in a pair of
boxers only. Gorgeous, muscular legs came out the bottom, and this
very well-built chest was above. On top, an aquiline profile was
squinting at the sunrise. I stepped behind and rested my chin on his
shoulder. "Whatcha thinking, Richard?" "Dunno, just seemed the thing
to do right now." "Wanna come back to bed with me? Are you waiting for
anything?" "Naw, just maybe the sunrise." "Can I wait with you?"
"Sure, let's sit on the sofa."

	With that, we sort of fell onto an old, white wicker loveseat
he had on the porch. I curled up, head on his lap, and began to drift
off to sleep again. His hand went to my waist and I waited for the
sun to warm us.

	The sun was a long time coming, and I curled up even tighter.
His hand went down to my butt and sort of snuggled me in to a
comfortable position; I relaxed and was back asleep, very secure.

	In a few minutes, though, he was moving again. "Coffee?" "Uh,
sure, so early?" "Can't watch the sun rise without coffee!" He was
gone in an instant to the kitchen and I heard the pots rattling. It
wasn't yet really warm, so when he came back I must've jumped right
onto him. I was sitting across his legs, cupping the coffee cup and
lazing against his shoulder with my legs pulled up close.

	"Richard, wanna screw?" "Yeah, maybe, but let me wake up
first." "Richard, it's better when you're waking up. Haven't you ever
awakened already linked to someone?" He shrugged, but I noticed that
the boxers had a new bulge in them. I put my hand there and confirmed
that it wasn't just the fold of the fabric.

	"Richard, it feels to me like you're ready now." I was
whispering, but don't know why. No one on the block was stirring. We
had the world to ourselves. His fly was gaping, so I slipped my hand
inside; Richard put his cup down, then took mine away from me. "Here?"
he said. "Sure," I purred.

	He took his hand from my waist and moved it to my breast, but
outside the robe. My other hand was pinned against his chest, so I had
to release his manhood to move his hand inside the robe. He was
beginning to get the idea! I felt a warm, coarse hand gently massage
my right boob, then brush the nipple, then cup me like the balmy
Sunday morning this was. He wasn't rushing things, and neither was I.

	I looked up from my chest and saw him smiling at me. I leaned
over and gave him the first kiss of the morning. Gentle, not even
probing, just a kiss. He returned it the same way. "Richard?" "Mmmm?"
"The champagne would have been better than the coffee... " "OK, I'll
remember. You didn't get too wired yet, did you?" "Lemme show you.
Come here." A gentle squeeze and I had his full attention, his mind
and his heart following, as the expression goes. In fact, all I ever
really wanted was a thousand percent of his attention. I get really
jealous Sunday mornings. Jealous of the rest of the day, jealous of
his computer, jealous even of the sunrise. Mornings are meant for me
and a friend, with no interruptions. I think he was beginning to
understand, but I had to know.

	"Why'd you get up so early?" "I'm not used to someone who
sleeps like you... it felt too good... has anyone ever told you how
easy it is to share a bed with you? And I don't mean just sexually -
just that you snuggle right in and at the same time don't push. I'm
not used to that, and I guess I'm afraid of losing it." "Richard, I'm
here now. Tomorrow is tomorrow; even this afternoon is later. Right
now, I'm here. I want you to be, too." He was caressing my nipple,
now, and I was squeezing him every once in a while, just to remind him
how very "there" I was.

	Last night, he had really moaned when I tongued his ears. I
tried again, a bit of a stretch for my neck from where I was sitting,
but he just leaned right into me as I licked; I got the same reaction.
Gee, was Richard's middle name Pavlov? I stretched my legs out onto
the sofa, and let the robe gap. When he opened his eyes, the first
thing he saw was my legs, and he abandoned my breast to touch them.
Here, too, he was gentle, just stroking them at first, then slowly
parting them as he moved up the inside from my calves. I just watched
his eyes, as they darted from my face to his hand and back again. He
kissed me again, and I returned it in French. As my tongue went into
his mouth, his hand found my pussy for the first time that morning.
Ah, timing is everything!

	I let his fingers move up and down my lips, searching gently,
probing softly, for an opening. My mouth played with his lips, and my
hand by now was stroking his cock to its full height. I shifted so my
hips would be right next to his balls, and my hand on his shaft also
rubbing his stomach.

	I could feel him rustling around in my fur. I was still a very
little bit tender from last night, but by no means dry! He soon found
the mouth of the river Pussy Cum, and began to swim in the lagoon. His
fingers did a crawl, then a side-stroke, and then rested in a lazy
backstroke. I pulled his head down and let him know it was time for a
breast stroke with his tongue [sorry, just had to put that pun in
there!]. His tonguing was leisurely at first, and then he got
adventurous. Just as his head almost disappeared into the robe, the
day's first car drove down the street, stopping at the stop sign just
across the road. What are these people doing here???

	Time to go inside. I pulled the robe together and stood up.
For Larry, the problem was a bit more difficult, but we made it inside
without anyone calling th rectitude enforcers (Besides, he was already
quite e-rect! [Sorry, there's another one!])

	He climbed on the bed first and then turned as I just stood
there. I put a knee up, and he grabbed my thigh, pulling me towards
him by the small of my back. I let him kiss my mouth, then down my
throat and chest until the robe fell open, and I let it slide down to
the floor. Richard pulled me up onto the bed and then kept going,
kissing first each breast, then my belly, and then burying himself in
my forest. My god, he was good! His tongue found and then circled my
clit. It found and probed my secret tunnel. He ran down the smooth
insides of my thighs and made me tingle from there to the top of my
head. I was on my back, his hands underneath my butt, his head between
my legs. I could just reach the back of his head with my hands, but
soon gave that up to hold my own breasts - I thought I was going to
explode if I didn't!

	His head was bobbing up and down - my back was arching in time
with his tongue. I was sopping wet down my butt and all over the tops
of my thighs. We were going to have to roll over soon so he could get
what was going to be a very wet Wet Spot!

	Finally, I pulled him up, each of us panting. I rolled him
over as I kissed him, then straddled him, pulling his shorts down but
not off in the process (sometimes I'm just SO impatient!). I really
like the penetration I get this way, and after last night I wanted to
try this, too, with him. I mounted him, and felt him push the muscles
aside as he entered. Gently at first, for his shaft wasn't totally wet
and some of my contractions had already started. His hands went to my
breasts and he was just playing with the nipples; I had never seen
them so long! And I just kept finding more and more length to him, too
- I could feel him deep inside, now, I thought he'd have to push my
cervix out of the way!

	I pulled up a bit, and then down again: he nested a bit
better, and got better still the time after that! Clearly, a bit of
practice and we'd really make a team! I moved his hands to my butt,
and had him stroke me there for a change. He pulled and pushed at it,
and got himself adjusted even deeper into me. He was concentrating on
me so much he was drooling! This is the kind of attention I wanted!
We began to set our rhythm together. It's exercise like this that
keeps my thighs in shape, and I love it! He tried to follow me as I
pulled up and then down, and each time the friction just warmed me all
that much more. I could feel myself wrapping around him, the way I do
just before a really big orgasm, and the tension was marvelous!

	Then, about two strokes before I expected it, I came. It made
me start bucking up and down like a thing possessed (probably was!),
and about halfway through I could begin to feel him spurt; for a while
I wondered if he'd ever stop. Not just once, not merely three times.
Each time I could feel the moisture practically slam up into me. He
just kept coming, and I thought I'd drained him last night after all
his exuberant pumping then!

	I fell to my side, he still inside. He curled up next to me,
and we dozed. Somewhere during that time, he fell out, and I think
that's what woke me. I shook him gently, and as he came around, I had
this big smile on my face and a bit of curiosity on my mind. "Now,
Richard, isn't that better than coffee Sunday morning?"