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Subject: {ASSM} RP: THE LINDA TALES (Part 1/2 of Chapter 2/6
Date: Mon, 24 Apr 2000 07:10:08 -0400
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Hello, fellow global literature lovers!
Be warned: This story is a work of fiction that contains descriptions
of explicit sexual acts between humans. If this type of content offends
you, or you are under the age of 18, do not read it. It is posted for the
entertainment of adults. If you are below the age of eighteen or are
otherwise forbidden to read electronic erotic fiction in your locality,
please delete this message now. The story codes in the subject line
are intended to inform readers of possible areas that some might find
yukky, but the author makes no guarantees. You should be aware that
the story might raise other matters that you find distasteful.
Ecco: You read at your own risk.
Disclaimer: All the standard rules apply. If you are offended
by explicit descriptions of sex or the human body, if it is
illegal to possess such materials at your location, if you are
under-age by law in your location, or if somebody else thinks you
might feel too.... - stop right now and remove this text from your
computer.
This is purely a work of fiction, with all characters and actions
described by me coming straight out of my imagination. As a work
of fiction, it does not condone or condemn any of the activities
or actions described, nor does it relate to any type of real events in my
life, or known to me in the lives of any of my friends or relatives.
Unfortunately.
You have been properly warned.
I give permission for anyone to share or archive this story.
The story have been written by the person posting them.
If you liked the story, drop the author a line at the e-mail address
below.
********************************************************
THE LINDA TALES (Part 1/2 of Chapter 2/6)
THE WINDING ROAD AROUND THE BEND, AND THE FIRST
WOMAN WAITING THERE (M/f/F)
What are your standards for what constitutes truly stunning love-
making? I can tell you flat out that that first hour with Linda went far
beyond anything I had done before. Or dreamed of. Not only the carnal
acts in themselves, even though they were very very satisfying indeed.
But there was also a certain quality to them, an edge. That girl was
just so innocent, and still so intoxicatingly sexy! And we had some
sort of contact.
Linda! I could not get her out of my mind. Her birth certificate might
have said 14, but her mind was far older. And while her body was very
fresh, it was so mature anyway. But that number hypnotised me. I
mean, cheating on Christina was bad enough, but Jesus, with a 14
your-old? Making love might have been OK to us, but it certainly was
not OK to society. Her parents, her teachers, her friends would want to
crucify me. Even my friends would lend a hand!
My memory also kept bugging me about when we got back to school.
In the would-be ball room, the preparations were still in full swing
even though many people had in fact gone home. Nobody seemed to
have missed us much, except this hag with suspiscious eyes, a
councellor lady something. (In another setting, I certainly would not
have named that pudding for a hag!) And then we had to finish the
work; back to the nooks, bending and stretching with (for me at least)
protesting muscles. We were very professional now; Linda almost
prissy, she was definitely in control of her bumping now. There wasn4t
any. Still it felt like being on stage, I was glad to be done by 7 o4clock.
When I left, Linda was quite indifferent; a casual Bye. But the hag
came up to me and said something about her (the hag lady herself)
surely being there go great me when I came back for my gear, Thank
you, Mr Armstrong! Now what the hell what that supposed to mean?
Cold feet I said, and cold feet I meant. GOD! For the next days I was
torn by mixed feelings: burning shame, lust for seeing Linda again,
fright of getting exposed... I even fretted over that school dance. Had
any of those snotty squirts laid hands on hear? One of the teachers?
Did she scorch her pussy hair with the football team? (I mean, it
wasn't called "ball" for nothing.) This was getting sick! I could hardly
eat or sleep. Christina began to look funny at me, seemingly not at all
appreciating that little paunch shrinking. Christmas and all.
One day between Christmas and New Year, Linda called my office.
She was in a good mood, laughing and joking about people behaving
silly at the ball and the success of the new sound system. Her voice
sent thrills up my spine. Then she asked me if she could help me to re-
assemble the equipment? Maybe right now? I made lame excuses, and
said I had arranged to come in on the evening next day (which was
true) and do it alone. She soon finished the call. I felt like a complete
coward!
The next day, must have been the 30th, there was this e-mail in my
mailbox. Just an empty letter, with two files attached. I couldn4t
recognise the address; just a common anonymous mail-service. I
clicked up one of the files, and my imaging programme started. I
nearly had a heart attack! On the picture there was Linda, sitting alone
on a park bench! She was wearing a smug little happy smile, roses on
her cheeks, a neat white blouse, a lightblue skirt, white socks over
sandals. The only thing odd was her hiking the skirt up to reveal those
long shapely brown legs, and that perfect god-given fat little black-
haired cunt! The contrast to her innocence was startling. I literally
gasped. What on earth was this?
The next picture file was even more shocking. It was Linda allright
(though I wasn4t sure at first). Lying on a bed, naked, shining with
sweat, her hair soaked from top to bottom, the sheets in a mess and as
wet. She had the right middle finger in her cunt but the hand was
blurry from motion. The left hand pinched her left nipple, pulling it
out in that familiar way. Her eye-lids were half closed, eyes glazed.
Her features were heavy, laboured, serious; totally gone. The whole
little girl looked puffed up and flushed and swollen. Not only her
erogenous zones, which where positively sissling.
Somehow I got an impression of her being alone. In fact, she looked as
if entering the fourth hour of freaking out on herself on a real fly-ride
Ritaline and hash high. Who took the picture?
I was pondering the pictures that whole day, trying to make some
sense out of the whole affairs. A lot of questions. Who had held the
camera? Was that really Linda in the frames, those two contrasting
images of apparent innocense and utmost lust? For whatever purpose?
And (most alarming) who had sent them to me? Was it Linda? But I
had not given her my phone number, much less the e-mail. I was
getting very paranoid and even thought it might have been that
councillor cutie, trying to implicate me in some weird trap game. -
Which of course held no logic at all.
Then there was the enormous erotic effect. Nothing I had ever seen in
pictures or movies, nothing but holding the real thing (that is a live
and hot woman), had made me as bone-hard as those pictures of
Linda. Both of them were, in its own way, sexuality boiled down to the
core. Together they were lethal!
Evening came, after all that coffee and cigarettes. I had to return to
Linda's school. A delayed recovery would only further throw
suspicions on me, and besides, I needed my gear for a gig next day.
The people renting the stuff would get mighty pissed if they missed out
the music on their New Years Eve party! So I went there, feeling as if
only propelled by about a million butterflies in my stomach. It was a
real anti-climax. No Linda, no hag, nobody, but a bored junior janitor
anxious to get back home to his tart likely, but not extremely willing to
lend me a hand. So my work took its while. Must have been around 8
when I finally closed the back doors of the van, and entered the cabin.
In the other seat, there was Linda.
I yelped. "Linda, what the fuck!?"
"Hello Steve", she said calmly, just sitting there with her hands
clasped in her knee.
"You trying to scare the shit out of me?" I got a little rude there, I
admit. The events since I first met this little darling one had finally
pushed me to the limit. I was not even sure if I ever wanted to see her
again. Despite everything (and I have told you what everything
meant).
"Steve, you have to help me", Linda whispered. Helpless like.
"Are you in trouble?" My heart began to melt.
"Yes. And so are you!" Her face a little tilted, giving her eyes a new
slant. Sad, but trusting.
"Are you talking of those pictures?" I demanded. But she would not
admit to this. She knew nothing of any pictures.
"Do you remember Ms Appleton? The councillor at school?" she
asked.
"Don4t I! I4ve been waiting all of Christmas for her to start some
trouble. She knew, I can tell you. She knew exactly what we had been
up to... well maybe not exactly." I chuckled.
She smiled for the first time, but her eyes where still grave. I looked
back deep into those black wells. That was dangerous. And then she
took my hand.
"I4m afraid you are right. She does know it all, basically. Though of
course not exactly how you ate me, you animal! Or how un-ladylike I
behaved in turn."
This with a naughty twist on her lips. The magic began to work on me
again. I couldn4t help but laugh.
"So what is happening?"
"She phoned. At home, can you believe it? She said she wanted to
discuss about my actions before the ball. That means us! What else?
She wants me to come around to her place tonight, 'for a talk', as she
put it".
"So can4t you tell her some fib? Or apologise, or whatever it takes. Just
make her forget it?"
"I think there is only one way. We have to seduce her". She looked
more like a cat than ever. Extremely dignified.
"Whaaatt!!!"
"Steve, there is just no other way. She seemed so determined. And if I
go down, you go down. You know the score. Or my age, rather."
"Well I didn4t at first. But I sure do now. Are you threatening me?" I
said curtly.
"Never! I love you! But she is! But if we can implicate her... If we fuck
her, we4re safe!" Her voiced trailed off.
"But Linda..."
"There is this girl at school, Marion, who once hinted that Appleton
made a pass on her... I just don4t know. It might be true. Many people
get into these school positions just to meet young people; you know
where they are in power?
All I can tell is, when I spent an hour with her last semester, going
over my syllabus, she kept crossing and un-crossing her legs about
once a minute. And I can swear she gave her cunt a little extra rub
each time. She4s a horny bitch! Her tits stuck out so bad. She kept
poking at them with her pencil. Thought I didn4t see it. At least, I
think."
"But even so..."
"I think she4s somehow jealous. That bitch! I4m gonna give her more
than she asked for, and with a vengeance at that!" The intensity of her
emotions struck out like a bolt from a thunder cloud.
"But I can4t let you get through that just to get me off the hook. Linda,
think about it!"
"I have. I did all night. And actually I think it will be fun. I will fuck
her. And love it. " Her eyes sparkled. "Let4s do it together."
And then she explained what she had in mind. I was spellbound. And
I wanted desperately to fuck her again; not later, now! But there was
no time. When we went to my office to unload the stuff, we both
looked sadly at the couch. Then she looked up at me, and licked her
lips. And laughed. I felt almost sorry for Ms Councillor Bitch
Appleton. Was she going to get a mouthful! Or vice versa.
When we finally rang the bell at Ms Appleton's house, the area seemed
very quiet. No cars moving about, but of course the Christmas
decorations were everywhere. The light was warm and reddish from
her windows. She opened the door. Ms Appleton. About 35 years of
age. Blondish, her hair cut page-style. A very nice body indeed. She
was dressed in a black and yellow work-out spandex. The spandex
streching over her breasts, over a nice ass (she looked like a sexy
hornet). A threat against all of the things in my life? There was no
sign of this as she greeted us.
"Linda? So you finally arrived! And Mr Armstrong with you!" she
called out. "Come in!"
Linda said: "Yes hello! We thought it best to come here both of us. As
I explained, it would be much better than me coming by myself."
I was surprised, but anyway, to ease the conversation (anything to get
Ms Appleton in a better mood) I said friendly: "But do call me Steve."
"Yes of course. Come in Linda and Steve! I4m Eve. "
"I guess that since it is somewhat late, we better get on with it. Please
follow me." Eve led us up a stair, into a comfortably furnished sitting
room, with couches and sofas before a TV-screen. She sat down on one
of the couches. "Is this a good place?"
"Ms Appleton... Eve?"
"...That4s allright..."
"Steve and me have discussed this situation. As you know, we are
together know, so we came here together to get the best results for
you."
"OK? Yes?"
Linda had told me to play it by ear. But she seemed very confident
indeed on her own. What the fuck was she hinting at now?
"So we decided to do the whole thing together. For me to learn as well.
I hope you don4t mind?"
Eve said: "No-no, I am sure that is for the best..."
Linda: "And anyway, originally this method was developed for two
performers. In old India, you know? But it works as well with one
really trained person..."
(Me: ???)
"...so if you please, lie down on that broad couch. On the back."
Eve did. All the length of that beautiful body contained in spandex
wrapping. On that couch. On the back.
Linda continued: "Now, as part of my training, Steve has told me to be
in command. Does that bother you?"
"No, not at all. Command away," Eve said in a slight voice, and
smiled.
"Well then, first you have to relax. Really relax. Let all of your
muscles rest deeply, deeply and thoroughly."
I saw Eve ease back on the couch, closing her eyes.
The lump in my throat wasn4t getting any smaller. There was no
animosity whatsoever in Eve. Not not me, not to Linda? What was
happening here?
"Now, as the first step, we are going to make you aware of your body.
Or rather making the body aware of itself. By relaxing it. The whole of
it. The whole of you. If it makes you feel bad, tell us immediately. We
are here only to please you. To help you."
"I will", Eve said, with a small tremble.
"The tensions you have felt lately may be situated in certain body
parts, other areas than where your hurt is manifest. Therefore, we will
use the prescribed scheme, the ordered route, and then finally end up
taking those tensions away..." Linda droned on amiably.
"Yeees..." Eve sounded sleepy, her eyes still closed.
Linda nodded to me, a clear direction. I was to take the upper half. She
was going down. Time for me to do something.
I sat down behind Eve. "Lift up a little dear. Lean back in my lap" I
said. She responded without comment, her head leaning trustfully on
my chest. I would have full reach of her body down to her cunt. Linda
sat down facing me and Eve, straddling the couch by Eve's feet, then
lifting her legs and placing them over her own thighs.
Facing Eve4s face. Facing Eve4s cunt! "Uhhuh", Eve emitted a little
grunt, clearly feeling a little awkward now, her face reddening. The
pussy made a great bulge between her wide open legs; her every fold
was clearly visible to the both of us, the outline of an expanding
clitoris. Eve cleared her throat nervously again, and I think it was only
about now she fully realised what position she had actually put herself
in. So to speak.
"Now we start" whispered Linda. Ms Appleton was left to our mercy.
- End of Part 2 a -
(To Be Continued...)
Send comments to: steve.armstrong@england.com
"The Linda Tales" is my first try at creating recreational erotic
literature. Please give me feedback, be it good or bad, on e-mail. Give
your first name and age, as an indicator how to better judge your
comments. Welcome are also comments on language. (A rather
eclectic use of terms and idiomas from different parts of the world.)
Your efforts may help to improve the continuation of this series, if it
comes along.
Thanks, and hopefully, enjoy!
Steve Armstrong
__________________________________________________________________
Get your own free England E-mail address at http://www.england.com
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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