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Subject: {ASSM} From TxM6:  Angela, Henry, Aaron What a Fuck they had
Date: Tue, 26 Sep 2000 01:10:03 -0400
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Also From TxM6 Hyperfiction
http://www.txm6.com (updated 9/16/00)
http://www.txm6.com/enfer (updated 9/17/00)
http://www.txm6.com/lcfallon
http://www.farragher.com  (Poetry updated 9/24/00)

TxM6 is entirely a work of fiction for adults only.
Copyright (c) 2000 Sean Farragher.

0885X Extraordinary Conventions
Angela, Aaron and Henry
Tearing down extraordinary conventions

When she was done with one, Aaron would be there, 
ready, playing with it, letting the bend in its 
neck show against the lights of the windows. 

Watching him, staring Angela waited for Aaron. 
Reaching down kissing him. Aaron on his knees now put 
his cock against Angela's breasts, rubbing between 
them. 

Angela ready again, catching her breath, feeling the 
ache in her cunt where Henry had ravaged, she signaled 
Aaron, now, crawl forward speaking softly, curling her 
finger, beckoning. 

Brushing her mouth on his breasts, as she called them, 
imagining them as hers, confusing man and woman. Bite 
my tits, Aaron laughed. No, you bite mine, she 
screamed back, and then in this odd circle they sucked 
the other, punishing.

Angela finally said, lifting them up, offering, what 
only could be a second and third stretch to more and 
longer orgasms: "make them drip again."

"Make mine," Aaron called back.

On other days, Angela loved to tease. 

Switching between the men, their cocks, their mouths, 
she rubbed them inside her thighs, not letting them 
inside, until she was ready. Intent, focused, she 
lowered herself slowly down on one then the other. 
Inch by inch, slower and slower, taking their dear 
pricks into throat of her cunt she invoked the gods 
with curses. 

"Fuck, shit, fuck me cock sucker, motherfucker, daddy, 
shit, beat it baby, don't you stop, shit, no, make me 
come, you mother humping fuck." 

Sometimes, bored with holy drama, Angela would 
delicately moan when she was done, crying aloud that 
ragged animal sound, known by all and invisible.

Quiet. Aaron loved silence, and Henry directed his 
silent, pained expressions, catching Angela in that 
after breath of orgasm, when she had finished him, 
licking the patch of his cock and he her clit, taking 
her whole cunt in his mouth.

Covering her completely Aaron probed her divided 
spaces softly, harder, faster, slow. So slow, at 
times, Henry would seem disconnected, disassociated. 
That's what Aaron called it. As the beats of Henry's 
life and heart were not congruent with Aaron, pure 
delusion, he told them both.

"I do not know you then," Aaron said, touching 
Angela's face, lifting her hair from her cheek.

Not knowing her talent for mimicry, Angela appeared 
neither whore nor prude. Not lecherous nor calculating 
and often, suddenly, surprised, Aaron would wake with 
Angela's mouth on his cock surprised by it all. 

Aaron felt welcome those bending hands. Like palm 
fronds her nipples dazzled him with an arbor of 
lights, colorful textures, background. Angela was 
never reasonable and often dangerous. Henry and Aaron 
accepted all of it.

Imagine being married with two gracious men, Angela 
mocked. 

"No, I don't mean you, she laughed, pulling both men 
on top of her.

"Why not us," Henry struck back.

Ignoring Henry, Angela whispered to both of them, 
speaking softly, "I came three times." 

"What," Henry teased?

Repeating it, not as a confession nor for information, 
Aaron and Henry certainly knew it, Angela dangling the 
safety rope down the cliff pulled memory up or down, 
as the whim of her sexuality decreed. Speaking, 
breathing, halting, I am still there, she said, 
always, your tongues, positioned, as I taught you 
swooning with a quick pulse, gathered, holding the 
crash inside, shattering the nape nerve, returning to 
the bliss of some long ago fuck me when I was a 
teenager.

Angela, happy but not yet desperate held it back. She 
kept Aaron there, feeling him leap, restoring the 
oscillation, squeezing inside. Yes, of course, I loved 
the leaking afterwards she lied. 

Reaching back, she thought, to dig his spine, and the 
shoal of ass, and then grace, turned up, insistent, 
pulled down to the worn edges of her halo cleft.

Now, I know. Aaron assumed control. No, I let him, she 
dreamed, withdrawing, like a warm thrush or the spice 
of the mouth held captive on the slick of his glans. 

How I love the shine, pulling her head off Aaron's 
cock. Wiping it clean, she smiled.

"No, I will never lose contact, Angela happy, cried.

Holding hands, eyes, or lips, in the tender of blue, 
Angela restored pleasure from grief. Pulling back, she 
gasped as Aaron gasped. 

"Wait I'm there," he said.

Aaron entered her not hard, but quickly, sliding on 
her hot ice, pushing her back, deep into the grooves 
of the bed, grinding his pubic bone against hers, and 
then crushing her ass, mounted, high up, numb, almost, 
into her test. Allowing prick to bend and graze her 
clit, Aaron twisted the earth under her ass, making 
the sky very dangerous after all.

When Aaron came the pregnant wars shifted from the egg 
in the eye to semen in the mouth. 

My daughter is conceived, Angela laughed.

Oh, let it be true, Angela laughed self-mocking. Henry 
or Aaron? 

Doesn't matter to them, although they really pretend, 
and would be glad if the fates chose the right one. 
Who is right in the festival, holy or not, in our 
grief, one hour of night, or the swallow of day 
scared, and nothing else is torn down but 
extraordinary conventions.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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