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From: Eli-the-Bearded <eli@there-is-no-more-qzto.com>
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NNTP-Posting-Date: 3 Nov 2000 02:25:01 GMT
Summary: Elijah is reposting stories.
Keywords: MF oral
Encrypted: double rot-13
Subject: {ASSM} RP: May {Eli-the-Bearded} (MF oral)
Date: Fri,  3 Nov 2000 02:10:08 -0500
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Repost-of: http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/eli/www/erotica/eli-may.html

                        May

                        by Eli the Bearded

"Hard is the herte that loveth nought/In May."
 -- Geoffrey Chaucer

May comes in looking cute-as-can-be in some snug-tight jeans
and white cotton tee. She's got one of those bodies that's
not thin, but looks so much better than most thin bodies
really do. So anyway, I see her and she looks great and I am
momentarily happy-glad-grinning to just see a body that
looks that sweet. May happens  to be the woman I love, but
that is not entering into this, not even my belief in her
good looks. (I'm sure you've noticed how when you love a
woman for herself she will always look better than she did
before you knew her.)

Like I said my flash of joy is momentary-brief. Not because
of May or anything between us, never, but because my worries
clamped down hard and fast on my thoughts stronger than the
sighting of May could prise-wrestle away. I have a deadline
approaching on a project, you see. I had most of the thing
done, but then the customer ups and changes the specs. The
change is slight, but it violates some of the main
assumptions the code was based on. There is a big-thick-
ominous pile of changing ahead to meet the new state of
affairs. And then there are the additional modifications to
support those new features.

Wasn't it the Red Queen in _Alice Through the Looking Glass_
that said "It takes all the running you can do to keep in the
same place"? That's me right now. I feel just like that. God
damn.

"Caught-cha smilin', bub. /You/ know what /that/ means," she
says. Actually I don't know what it means but I am not so
sure that I don't want to find out.

She walks over and *plomp* sits on my lap. "None of this,"
wrapping one arm 'round my neck, and pulling the reference
book away with the other. They say you've been in hack mode
way-far too-fucking-long when this sort of activity triggers
a priority interrupt. She dropped the book to the floor, not
quite a solid thud, and put her other hand on my shoulder.
This is a for-sure priority interrupt alright.

"Hello," I say.

"And hello to you, my pogo-boy," and she gives the tip-peak
of my nose a quick little dart of a lick. I hug her about the
waist, and start to lean my head on her shoulder.

"Uh, eh, ah!" She jumps up grabs my hand and pulls me up.
Then she gets her hand so startlingly close to my crotch
grabbing the waist of my jeans. She flashes an oh so wicked-
tasty little-vicious grin, raises one of her plucked-to-a-
mere-suggestion eyebrows, turns and starts pulling. No way,
no how, no project is stopping me.

Out into the rich dark air of the warm summer night. Gibbous
moon trees-obscured sitting low on the horizon leaves the
area dark, darker as we wander from the house. I had been
happy to take the job in Dover, N.H. All my old family is in
New Hampshire, mostly way up north though, and the real
estate here is woo-woo-woo fantastic after Manhattan prices.
Let's just say it is a large parcel of land she's pulling me
across and the neighbors are way too far to notice. Besides,
"Live Free or Die:" every licence plate the state gives out.

Funny what one thinks at the least likely moments staring at
a callipygean rump. Unable to resist, I give her one smart
rap right on the the right-honorable rump. "Don't tell me I
waited too long," she says, after the squeal of course. Just
after the next clump of shrubs she stops abruptly. I don't
see it at first, but she pushes me down on it so I can't
miss it, she has laid out a large-thick-soft blanket over
the ground. Prostrate before her standing body I grab her
large hips and pull her crotch to my face. I kiss-nibble-
begin to lick when she gently hits me saying, "Nein.
Nein, mein Liebling."

Confused and feeling affronted, I sit back. In nary a wink
she's got the tee thrown aside, I see the small nipples
free-hard-dark in pale-slim light. Falling only slightly
slower her blue jeans quietly rumple over near her shirt.
Even in the present absence of light I see and know the
panties. Redder-softer than the finest red velvet cake,
these are silk panties I have not seen in months.

Over she leans and soon I have May mouth against mine, her
tongue tasting me, and me tasting sweet-spicy ginger and her.
I'm opening my shirt, she's opening my jeans. And I am at
attention to greet her hands when she gets 'em open. She
pulls back from my face and goes down. A lick and a soft-
tease bite and then she pulls down my underwear. I put one
hand in her long-soft-straight hair and the other on
Magenta.

Her warm wet mouth with just a hint of dangerous teeth makes
for instant pleasure-joy-happiness when applied correctly.
May applies herself. I taunt and tickle and touch and
squeeze the breast I have. My hair hand holds follows and
almost exerts control some moments. Her tongue works
wondrous wonderful wonders on my wand.

I arrive at pleasure-the peak-the moment and I come into
her. May is not stopping for that and continues until I
relax-release-calm myself. She sits up, I lie down, she lies
on top.

"Thank you," I say oh-so quiet-silent-slow to her ear. She
pecks my cheek. "I needed that," I add. She kisses each of
my eyelids. Love-pride-joy-happiness-warmth-affection-
adorement overflow me and I hold her strong-tight to my
chest.

Elijah
------
can you tell it's finals week?

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