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From: One Gallus <onegallus@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} TENT PEG by One Gallus
Date: Fri, 3 Nov 2000 23:10:04 -0500
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<1st attachment, "TENT PEG.txt" begin>
{ASSM}
TENT PEG
By OneGallus <OneGallus@Yahoo.com>
(MF Cheat)
REQUEST CELESTE FOR REVIEW
Not to be read:
by anyone under the age of 18
or if it violates the standards or laws of
your community:
or if adult erotica offends you.
Not to be posted on any site, or changed,
added to or used in any way without
author's permission.
TENT PEG
By One Gallus
Author's Note: A reference is made to
"Smelling Lou," which was posted in
October of 2000. OG
I had known Peggy since I was 12 years old.
I met her at church, in a youth group, and
we developed a mutual unattraction for each
other. She was two years older than I was,
and I think she felt that somehow that gave
her say-so in my life. She was quite
assertive and the natural leader of the
youth group. However, I was not a natural
follower. To make matters worse her nature
also dictated that she should be in control,
and I often disagreed with her in front of
the group on many things. These were
important decisions, such as what we ought
to do for Halloween, where we should go for
Christmas or what concert we should attend.
In high school and beyond, such control
escalated into issues of the heart, what
couples should make a great match, what boys
and girls should not go together, etc. She
desired fervently to be the arbitrator of
these matters, matching up this one to that
one, manipulating break-ups, insuring
relationships of which she approved. She was
a strong person, but I have no idea why the
kids let her push them around.
Once, I started seeing a girl from a
neighboring church. I knew she had a rather
wild reputation, in fact that's what
attracted me. I had been rather a conventional
teen, a church-goer, dating girls with high
ideals who intended to save their virginity
for the one they would marry and who would
only let you feel around their knees, or at
the sides of their breasts, never on the
fronts. However, Diane had not only
permitted front-feels, she had also gone all
the way with a guy. She wore very thick
glasses, but they were quite stylish and had
those "bend-any-way" frames. I imagined she
wore them when she had sex, not fearing they
would get warped or out of adjustment,
simply because she gyrated upon them. When
Diane and I kissed and petted, she never
took her glasses off, so it was reasonable
to me that she should wear them during sex.
Peggy was not idle. She had asked around,
made some calls and got the low-down on
Diane. The word was that Diane was trying
to reform, but Peggy's mother had told her
that once a girl has "done it," there was no
going back, she'd do it again. Peggy told
me this when she had a "big-sister-talk"
with me, and warned me about my unwise
choice of friends. I responded by quitting
the youth group and going my own way.
Alas, Diane never took off her glasses, nor
anything else for me. We had a few more
dates, then we drifted apart when I went
away to Ohio University. I saw her again
twenty years later at a funeral. She was
still wearing thick glasses and was a little
heavier. She spoke to me and wondered if I
would ever come back to church or not.
Ironically, Diane stayed in the church but
Peggy quit.
Back then Peggy was quite tall, small boned,
and somewhat slender. I say somewhat,
because there was a prophetic swelling
around the hips and backside that has now
come to be something of a phenomenon. Her
breasts were quite nice for a teen-age girl,
but she never emphasized them by tight
sweaters, or dresses. She had, and still
has bright, blonde hair. She may color the
gray now, but it is exactly the same color
it was when she was sixteen years old.
One might conclude that I actually grew to
hate this intrusive manipulator. Actually, I
love her very much, especially in these
middle-aged-years. Peggy has been like a
meddling sister to me, hard to endure, but a
part of my life. I have no idea why my best
friend, Lewis, married her, and he has often
groused about her big mouth, her stupid
blunders, and her big-footed intrusion into
the lives of others. He is a policeman for
a suburb just outside of Toledo. He has
been in life and death situations many
times, and has proven his heroism under
fire. He is a man's man, but he jumps when
Peggy says "Frog."
I will give her this, Peggy has mellowed
through the years. She still is keen on
knowing every detail about all of her
friends, past and present, but her sharp
self-righteous attitude has lost its edge.
Now she is pleased just to know about
things, fret over them, and then let them
go. She is quite charitable to the foibles
and peccadilloes of others. Maybe this is
the reason I don't mind that she and Lewis
live across the street from us.
Besides, Peggy has some peccadilloes of her
own. One of them being an extraordinary
interest in the sexual lives of others. She
has quizzed my wife Barb incessantly about
the size of my penis, about how often we "do
it," about how we do it, about oral
activity, about clitoral sensitivity, and so
on, and so forth. This knowledge, to my
delight, my wife has denied her.
It is not unusual for Peggy or Lewis to
cross the street to my house, and visit with
both, or either of us, likewise in our
neighborliness toward them. What I am
saying is this, Peggy and I spend time alone
together. Knowing her as I have for so many
years, the company is as natural as my own
family.
"Jonny," she asked me, "what do you and Barb
do to keep the spark in your marriage?" Her
faced was serious.
"Who said there was a spark?" I asked,
laughing.
"I mean, do you watch any sexy movies
together, or anything like that?"
"Yes, we have," I said.
She sat up, her eyes widening. "X-Rated?"
She smiled.
"Oh, Barb doesn't like that, but sometimes
she gets turned on by reading one of my
stories." I knew when I said it, I should
not have, but vanity has to out, I suppose.
Anyway, Peggy already knew I did a bit of
writing. It was no secret that I entered
writing contests from time to time and she
had read some autobiographical young-fiction
of mine and thought it was "sweet."
"Your stories turn her on?" she asked
doubtfully.
"Well, I guess there are some stories I've
written that you haven't read."
"Really? What sort of stories?"
"Sort of erotic stories."
"Really?" Peggy exclaimed, a look of wonder
coming over her face.
"I'll have to ask Barb for one," she said.
I knew she was asking me. "You think she'll
let you read it?"
"I want to see one!" she said, almost
salivating.
"They're posted on the Internet," I said.
"Really?" She was using that word every
five seconds.
"Yes, I'll give you the web address, but
you'll have to swear you won't say a thing
to anyone."
"Oh, I wouldn't!" she said.
"You wouldn't swear?" asked.
"Oh Jonny, I will swear! I swear I won't
tell Barb." She lifted her right hand into
the air.
"Peggy, you're not listening. I said `You
have to swear you won't tell anybody, ever!"
"OK, OK, OK!" She was actually squirming
around on her large bottom, practically
filling the chair.
I wrote the web address and my pen name down
on a note pad, handed it to her. As she
reached to take it, I snatched it back.
"Peggy?"
"I swear! I swear!"
I gave her the paper,
"'Smelling Lou'?" she read the title. "How
sexy can that be?"
I shrugged. "It many not do a thing for you
Peggy."
I slept in on Thursday morning. Summertime
for a high school teacher does have its
advantages. Barb had gone off to her job at
the sewing shop, and so I moped about in my
summer robe with a cup of coffee, finally
coming awake about 10:30.
"You devil you!" It was Peggy at the front
screen door.
"Oh! Morning Peggy. Come in, I guess you
read the story."
She sat in the upholstered chair near the
front door. "Ah Jonny, you are a devil!"
she repeated. "I knew Diane would corrupt
you!" she said smiling, her head cocked to
the side."
I laughed at that, "That was a long time
ago, Peg. Besides, Diane had nothing to do
with it. So you weren't turned off?"
"Turned off? Jonny, it turned me on, really
loud!" Then Peggy did something I had never
seen her do. She blushed. A pinkness
filled her cheeks, making her eyes seem
doubly blue and her hair a shade lighter
blonde. "Jonny, it seemed so real!"
"That's the whole idea," I smiled.
"Jonny, would you-would you do-?" What Peggy
was asking me was about the man in my story
who sniffed his best friend's wife's
panties. She was asking me would I do such
a thing.
"I don't know whether I should answer that
or not, Peggy," a bit embarrassed myself.
"I should have given you another story."
"Whew!" she said, fanning herself with her
long fingers, smiling. Her smile was at
this moment very peculiar. It was what I
call her "Bugs Bunny Smile." Peggy had a
younger sister and younger brother, and they
all three had buckteeth, not extremely so,
but enough to notice. All of them had
possessed that peculiarity since childhood.
She looked like a mischievous little girl,
but she was not little, and she was not a
girl.
"Jonny, you know what your story reminds me
of?"
"What?"
"Lewis has a buddy, another copper. He told
me once that he had developed an
unexplainable crush on a friend's wife. He
said she was a few pounds overweight and not
especially attractive, but she always
dressed nicely and she wore high heels more
often than not. He thought maybe that's
what first turned him on." Peggy was on the
edge of her seat. Her long hands were
between her knees and her face wore a
continual blush as she spoke.
"He said he began fantasize about her all
the time. One night he and his own wife,
and the other couple went out together for
dinner and dancing. They ended up back at
the other couple's home for a nightcap. All
four were tipsy, but his friend's wife had
accidentally mixed alcohol with some
prescription medication. She was so woozy
that he and her husband had to help her to
bed, then they went back to the living room.
So he, his own wife and the other husband
sat there drinking, chatting and listening
to soft music. All the while, he kept
thinking about the other woman passed out in
the bedroom. He said he excused himself to
use the bathroom, but looked in on the wife.
She was still fully dressed and out cold on
the bed. He told me he could hear voices
and laughter from down the hall so he
thought the coast was clear. He checked her
and he was sure she was still completely
unconscious. He knew he could `pull it
off' but he panicked and chickened out, or
so he told me." She winked at me. She
smiled and again, looked just like Bugs
Bunny. She took a breath, "Anyway, for some
reason `Smelling Lou' reminded me of that."
I could see that Peggy was excited just to
visualize the scene she described. Her
cheeks were rosy still, and she said, "You
know, I'll bet that would make a good
story."
"Humm." I said, rubbing my chin.
"I mean in the story, you don't have to
chicken out," she said.
"Ummm."
"You're free to push the envelope in erotic
fiction, aren't you?"
"Yeah, I guess, as long as there is freedom
of speech, you're free to push."
"I mean, I'm not a guy, so I don't really
know what would run through a guy's mind at
a moment like that, not to mention his
loins. Heck, I never would've understood why
a man would be turned on by the scent of a
woman's panties or why a woman would become
sexually aroused by the scent of another
woman if I hadn't read "Smelling Lou."
She shivered a little and gave me a
closed-mouthed smile.
"You know, if your friend had copped a feel,
no pun intended, he would have been liable
for rape," I said.
"Yeah," she said, a disappointed look on her
face, "no wonder he chickened out."
"But did he?" I asked, "Did he really
chicken out?"
Peggy giggled.
That night, I did a bit of clustering on
paper to find my starting point. I wrote
the word "POLICEMAN" in the middle of a
blank page. Then I let my mind run free
with whatever images "policeman"
precipitated: "responsible, in control,
judgmental, harsh, vindictive, honorable,
torn, ambivalent and human." Then I built a
cluster around the word, "HUMAN." I let my
mind roam free again, and came up with:
"testosterone, temptation, control, lust,
infatuation, fetish, fixation, danger,
shame, and love." Since "honor" was almost
an antonym of "shame" I connected them with
a line. I saw a connection between "shame"
and "lust," and I drew a line between them.
Suddenly my mind began to gallop, and away I
went on the story.
Of course, Peggy had already provided
the core scene. I had written it down as
soon as she left, as nearly as I could in
her words. I read over it, and realized
that she had the makings of a good
storyteller. Not many people could remember
the detail and depict the scene the way she
did. Just reading her description aroused a
narrow dither of excitement in me.
Moreover, it cracked the door on a new room
in Peggy's persona that I never knew
existed. She was not only curious about sex
in the lives of other people, she positively
fed off it. She found not only a dimension
of sexual stimulation, but there was a large
measure of fulfillment through hearing and
now, reading of other's escapades. Of course,
Peggy would have pointed her long, soft
finger with it's red nail at me, and said,
"Jonny, so do you."
Three days later, the story was finished.
It was still steaming and I knew it was too
hot for the public to taste. Before it was
ready, it had to cool down. Then I could
see the errors and inconsistencies and make
corrections. Yet even then I could never get
it quite like I wanted it.
However, now that I had a coconspirator, a
collaborator of sorts, I was anxious to
share my handiwork with her. So I called
Peggy, and said, "Well, Peg, it's done. I
should really give a few more days, but I
think you should look at it."
"I can't come right now, Jonny, I'm
exhausted. I did some work for my old
office this morning. Give me a little time
to rest." Peggy had been a secretary to a
very successful industrialist in downtown
Toledo. She knew the business better than
he did, but when the old boss died, the son
took over. He interviewed a cute twenty-
something "to help her out" and they
commissioned Peggy to train her. After the
training, Peggy was laid off, but called
back to part-time duty whenever the cutsy-
pie couldn't handle it. "To tell you the
truth, I just came in and jumped in the tub
for a soak."
"I'm coming right over!" I said, a dare in
my voice.
I heard her give a low pleased squeal at the
flirtation, "Oooo! That story must be a
real turn on to make you want to see a big
butt like mine!"
"Ahh Peg, you're too hard on yourself. When
you feel up to it, give me a call and I'll
bring the story over, or I can just send it
on by e-mail."
"Naw, just read it to me!" she said.
"I fanned through the pages I had printed up
for her. "Are you sure Peg?"
"If you don't mind doing it, its fine for
me."
"Well, actually, I usually do an oral
anyway. It helps me to find the errors."
"Baby, you can do an oral on me anytime!"
she said.
The flirtation was getting a bit out of
hand. Peggy and I hardly ever flirted, but
something about her connection to the story,
and now my connection, must have triggered
these little sexy skirmishes of one-
upmanship. "Now, let's behave, Peggy.
Remember what you taught me in Sunday
school."
She giggled, "OK, let's hear your story."
"Peg, you have to keep in mind the principal
characters in the story. There are: Ray and
Toni, husband and wife, and the other
married couple, Phil and Jennifer. Got it?"
"Yes."
I began to read the first part. We got
through the parts about the dancing, the
close contact with each other's wives, the
quick hands on the ass, the backing off, the
flirting, the teasing, the drinking, and
then Jennifer's foolish decision to take the
pills she had forgotten to take earlier in
the day. Then there was the walk through
the parking lot to the car, the ride home,
and the surreptitious masturbation that Toni
gave Ray on the way to Jennifer and Phil's
home.
As I read to her over the phone Peggy would
punctuate the particularly sexy passages
with an "Oh! Wow!" or an "Ummm!" I ignored
it and read on.
Peggy had shown a little confusion as to
who was whom and I thought I had better
clarify the characters again for her.
Then I came to the scene that Peggy had
described to me.
"Now, Peg, don't get befuddled here. You've
got to remember that I've written this in
the first person, so when I say, `I' did
this, or `I said,' that, I'm talking about
Ray. He's the one who's telling us the
story. Got it?"
"I've got it, baby!" she said, I heard the
water sluice about a little as she evidently
changed positions. "Ummm, this hot water
feels nice, and I like it when you to read
to me. Maybe we could make a habit of
this!" she gushed.
"Right! OK Peg, are you ready?"
"Yep"
"Now, Ray says:
(Quote)
Toni and I stood by the car as Phil
struggled with Jennifer's semi-limp body.
Dressed as she was in her low cut black
dress with the spaghetti straps, it was a
challenge for Phil to keep her decent. The
fact was, that he couldn't handle her.
Besides, Jennifer was not a small girl.
"I'm sorry Ray, can you give me a hand with
her? Otherwise, she'll have to spend the
night in your car!" Phil said.
"Toni giggled at the prospect. She said,
"Give me the keys, Phil, and I'll open the
front door for you."
Phil fished in his pocket for his front door
key and tossed them to Toni. She went off
to the front door, about thirty feet away.
By now, Jennifer was lying on her back, her
lower legs trailing out the open rear door.
Her upper torso was totally relaxed and the
cleavage between her breasts had flattened
like a shallow valley from which the
mountains had slid away. Her left arm lay
draped off the seat and into the floor. Her
right arm lay relaxed across her body, her
hand on her crotch, at which she scratched
with utter oblivion.
(Unquote)
Peggy interrupted with a soft groan. I
waited a moment, and hearing no more, except
her breath, I continued to read:
(Quote)
Jennifer's short skirt was riding up about
mid-thigh and its hem bobbed up and down as
she scratched. Her legs were parted about
ten inches, and the porch light caught the
sheen of her dark stockings. One foot was
drawn up close to the car, the other, lay
more straight, with the toe pointed. Her
high heels and sexy dress combined with her
unconscious open pose to paint the whole
drunken tableau in a dim light of obscenity.
As I waited for Phil to run around the other
side of the car, I drank in the luscious
scene.
(Unquote)
Peggy sighed, "Ummm," as if she were lying
back, pleased to find a wonderfully relaxed
position. Again I heard the movement of bath
water.
(Quote)
"Phil," I said, "I have to balance very
carefully here, I don't have the strongest
back in the world."
"It's OK Ray, just lift her the best way you
can." He was now inside the left rear door,
knees at her shoulders, and gripping her
under her arms. Get under her knees, you
pull her and I'll follow."
I first went to the left of her legs and
reached down, and pulling the knees
together, tried to hold and pull her out
that way. I felt the muscle in my back
protest. "Ouch!" I cried.
"Don't lift off-balance Ray! Get in the
middle! Get in the middle!" he yelled. He
remembered that I had lost a month of work
last year with a troubled back.
I shifted around directly in front of
Jennifer and crowded my knees between hers,
then came under them with my hands, pulling
them into my hips and lifted. I stepped
backward, and Phil walked clumsily on his
knees on the car seat. Finally he put a
foot down on the driveway and said, "OK, let
me swing around toward the door."
We pivoted her drunken body till his back
was to the door and I was facing him. His
burden took all of his concentration.
Phil's teeth were gnashed together and he
frequently looked to the side and back at
the door as he carried his wife under her
arms.
I, on the other hand, was looking at
Jennifer's beautiful full thighs, shining in
the light, the flesh insinuating itself
through the black stockings. The little
skirt slid up to reveal, to my limited
disappointment, panty hose. They must have
somehow slipped because their crotch was at
least two inches below her own. I could see
the dark of her panties through the filmy
stretch garment, cladding her most intimate
self. She was heavy, but I was wishing this
little trip would take twice the time it
did. Toni had propped open the storm door
with the catch on the closer and the heavy
front door was standing open.
As we entered the house, I caught sight of
Toni at the sink, running some water. Phil
and I trooped on in with our precious cargo
and maneuvered down the hallway, around its
corner and into the bedroom where we laid
her on the bed. Then we stood bent with our
hands on our knees, trying to catch our
breath, and laughing at the same time.
Jennifer was on her left side at the very
edge of the bed and her skirt had ridden
above her plump buttocks so that we could
see the lower line of her butt cheek below
her panty line, right through the sheer
pantyhose. We both caught sight of this
exposure and at the same time Ray pointed at
it, and broke into raucous laughter again.
I joined him in the fun.
Phil caught his breath, "Ray, I hate to ask
you this, but she will piss the bed if we
don't get her on the toilet. You've already
seen Thanksgiving, you might as well see
Christmas," He shook his head, grinning.
"Seeing Christmas" was Phil's hillbilly
euphemism for seeing up a woman's crotch.
(Unquote)
Peggy, a southern-born girl, giggled
wickedly.
(Quote)
So, again, we assumed the same position and
carried her over to the bathroom, which
fortunately was inside the bedroom. We sat
her on the toilet seat. I was commissioned
to lift her by the underarms so Phil could
pull down her panties and pantyhose
together. He did this in one swift action.
Hardly had the panties cleared her butt and
she was peeing, bubbling the water beneath
her. I looked away in consideration of
Phil, but I concentrated on the feel that
the sides of her breasts were giving my
palms. I had gotten closer to this lady
than I ever thought I would.
(Unquote)
Peggy was exhaling sharp gusts of air
through her nose into the receiver. The
water was splashing about. I knew what
Peggy was doing and I felt myself giving way
to an erection. I wondered about this
development. Was this because of what Peggy
was doing, or because of the images in the
story I was putting into audible words?
Probably both, I concluded.
(Quote)
Phil removed Jennifer's panty hose and
tossed them into the corner. When she was
finished, he wiped her, and used a warm
moist washcloth to cleanse her. I couldn't
help but wish our roles were reversed right
at that moment. I lifted Jennifer again and
Phil pulled her panties back up. If I saw
anything sexy, it was only a flash and not
enough to register a clear picture, except
for those fabulous legs. That image was
distinct.
We arranged her in the middle of the bed,
and Phil pulled her skirt down as far as it
would go. She lay on her back, her head
thrown back, snoring very softly, lips
parted slightly. Her left hand was up, as
if she were raising it at school. Her
underarm, of course, was open, and I
reminded myself not to wash my hands, that
her scent must be on them from lifting her
there. Her right hand was again at her
crotch, but very demurely, only resting
there. I grinned to my self as I recalled
her digging at herself out in the driveway.
Phil was in the bathroom for a few moments
and then came out. "Your turn," he said.
In the bathroom, I turned the water on, but
did not wash. I lifted my hands to my nose
and smelled the clean sweat of my neighbor's
wife. It was mingled with a spicy
fragrance, which was pleasant, but I wished
the added spice were absent.
(Unquote)
"Ahh, Jon," Peggy whispered, brokenly.
"Peg, are you OK with this? Shall I read
on?"
"Oh God yes, read on Jonny," she pled.
"OK," I said doubtfully.
(Quote)
I turned the water off, and left the
bathroom, walking close to the bed, and
looking down once more. Leaving Jennifer
reluctantly, I walked back to the living
room where my wife was pouring drinks and
Phil was putting on a CD. We kicked off
our shoes propping our feet on the coffee
table, and were enjoying the slow paced
conversation. It seemed to match the music.
We rehashed the goofy happenings of this
evening of fun, but my mind kept returning
to the unconscious woman on the bed.
When my mind finally came back to the
conscious people before me, I realized that
Phil had launched a lengthy story, which he
had already rehearsed to us guys at work.
So before he got too far, I said, "Phil, I'm
sorry, I didn't take care of all my business
a while ago, I need to go to the bathroom."
"You know where it is," he said, then turned
back to my wife.
I went down the hallway, made the turn and
went into the first bathroom. I unzipped
and tried to relax as I urinated. I zipped
up and washed my hands, deciding very
definitely that I was going back for a fresh
supply of fragrance. I went to the door,
opened it and looked down the hallway. Of
course, I couldn't see around the right
angle of the hall, but I could hear Phil's
voice droning on. Toni was laughing in all
the right spots.
I looked in at the form on the bed. She was
still on her back, but her left knee was now
flexed and that foot was flat on the bed.
Her right leg, now quite white with no
pantyhose, was straight along the bed. I
took a deep breath and walked over to her.
Her right hand was still on her pubic mound,
fingers gently parted, guarding it chastely
with her hand. Because her leg was bent, her
skirt had ridden up again, but not high
enough to allow her hand to touch her
panties.
I listened closely to my wife and friend in
the front. At the same time I reached and
touched Jennifer on the upper arm. I
stroked it. I gripped it, not painfully,
but tightly. Jennifer slept on. I put my
hand on her shoulder and I rubbed there,
slipping down the spaghetti strap with my
fingers, still no change in breathing.
"Jennifer?" I said softly, giving her a
little shake. Nothing.
I sat down on the side of the bed and put my
right hand on her upper chest. I began to
rub her there lightly, no alteration in her
breathing, no extra movement anywhere. My
right hand traveled along her bare skin
directly to her breast, slipping below the
low cut of her dress a few inches. Her
full, lovely breast was now in my hand. I
pulled down the front and exposed her nipple
and took it between my fingers, rolling it."
(Unquote)
"Oh shit, Jon, I love it," Peggy whispered.
My eyebrows raised. I had never heard Peggy
say "shit" or "damn" in my life. Again,
water splashed in the tub. I heard the
intake of a deep breath.
"You like this Peg?"
"Mmmm, Jon, please."
(Quote)
After several firm, but not hurtful
squeezes, Jennifer was still unresponsive. I
bent my head over her breast, and took her
into my mouth, pushing her large nipple
around with my tongue, cupping the other
breast with my hand.
(Unquote)
"Uh, Uh, Uh!" Peggy grunted.
"Peg?"
"God, don't talk Jon, just read!" her voice
was very hoarse and deep in her chest.
(Quote)
After tasting of this wonderful fruit, I
came up from her breast and looked at her
again, one breast bare, the other loosely
covered, her hand lightly on her pubis. I
scooted down toward the foot of the bed and
took her short black skirt in my hands and
pushed it upward, keeping the material taut
under her hand. The skirt easily slid under
it, and her hand was now resting on her
panty crotch. A few light-colored hairs had
escaped from their encasement, and curled on
either side. I reached over Jennifer's body
and pulled her other leg down flat. She
complied with no resistance. I grasped the
waistline of her panties just below her
navel and pulled. I anticipated a struggle
with her ass tight against the bed, but it
never came. Unbelievably, at the pulling
sensation, Jennifer raised her hips
slightly, and they came sliding under her
cheeks easily. I halted after this action,
wondering if she was awakening, cooperating
perhaps? But her jaw was still slack and
the deep breathing of slumber had not
shortened.
Only then did I let my eyes focus directly
on her hand. It rested in the midst of a
hairy pampas of curls, and it was at this
point that Jennifer began a light movement
with her fingers, dragging them through the
hair. I looked at her face, which was not
registering consciousness, but a definite
purposeful frown was forming there. I
watched a moment, seeing her thighs strain
outwardly against the black panties. I
ventured to move them down, pulling them
down to her ankles. Her knees immediately
fell apart and her hand continued its
pleasure as I watched.
(Unquote)
"Uh, Uh, Uh, yes, yes," said Peg.
This time I reached down to my erection and
squeezed it through my pants.
"Baby, are you liking this?" I ventured.
"Fuck, Jon, read some more. Mmmm."
(Quote)
I supposed it was possible for a woman to
become aroused in sleep. Once, one of the
dispatchers at headquarters greeted me with
a smile when I checked in at 7:00 AM.
"Morning Ray!" she said, "I had a dream
about you last night!"
I said, "Really, what about?"
She rolled her eyes and leered at me, and
said, "No, don't ask me that Ray, I'll never
tell!" She and one of the other dispatchers
clattered into a storm of giggles. So,
maybe it's possible for female arousal in
sleep. I had to believe I was witnessing it.
I know absolutely that I have sexual dreams,
frequently. I wake every morning with
proof of it in my fist. Maybe that was what
Jennifer was experiencing.
As I watched this lazy masturbation, I
listened for sounds down the hallway. Toni
was laughing with Phil about something, and
there was no want for conversation in the
living room. Not much time had past anyway,
so I concluded I was safe for a few more
minutes.
I unzipped my pants, and exposed my hard
erection. I lay down on my left side beside
my friend's wife. I could just perch there
on "my" slice of the bed. I placed my hand
over Jennifer's moving fingers, following
each one of them in their alternate action,
just over-pressing them slightly, enough to
encourage deeper probing, I hoped. I felt
her coarse curls tickling my fingers as I
rode her hand with mine. Of course, my
erection had been full since I first touched
Jennifer, but now it was pressed against her
naked hip, and I could feel the movement my
foreskin slightly against her.
(Unquote)
"God in heaven, Jon, I'm coming!" Peggy
sobbed.
The water thrashed about in the tub, and the
phone fell, I suppose, onto the floor making
a banging noise. The connection didn't
break and I heard my neighbor groaning aloud
as she reached her self-induced climax.
Well, maybe it was not totally self-induced.
I myself had not bared my penis. While I
had never tried it before, I wasn't sure I
could really perform under Ameritech's
possible scrutiny. Once I had picked up a
sexy phone conversation over my police
radio, and all of these thoughts conspired
against me fully enjoying this moment of
ecstasy with Peggy. Frankly, I was tempted
to cross the street, but that would be a
milestone I was not sure I wanted to pass.
"Jon? Are you there, sweetheart?"
"I'm here Peg."
"Are you hard, Jonny?"
"Yes, Peggy, I am."
"Did I do it to you, honey?"
"Something did, Peg."
"Your not finished with the story are you?"
"Just about."
"Jon?"
"What Peg?"
"Come over here and finish up reading the
story to me."
I hung on the phone in silence.
"Jon?"
"Yes, Peg."
"I'm not pretty like Barb, I know that,
but."
"You're just fine, Peg."
"Just this once, Jon, come over to me."
I hung up the phone.
I stood up, and shook my head, looking at my
pants, which formed a tent Peg had inspired.
A middle-aged woman whom I had loved like a
unlikable sister, wanted my middle-aged
body. I laughed. "Well," I thought, "I can
kick the milestone over."
I crossed the street, and as I knew it would
be, the door was unlocked. I let myself in,
but I locked it behind me. "Peggy?" I called.
I walked through her living room and into
the hallway that led to her bedroom. The
house, with some exceptions, was a mirror
image of my own. I called her name again,
"Peg?"
When I entered the bedroom she was on the
bed. Covers had been pulled down, but she
had pulled the sheet back up to cover her
body. She was smiling oddly at me, but not
like Bugs on this day.
"Bring your story and come lie beside me,"
she said.
"God, Peggy, are you sure?"
"Jon, keep your pants on if you need to, but
come here. Please?"
I walked to the bed with the rolled up sheaf
of papers in my hand. I kicked off my
shoes, and she pulled down the sheet for me.
Peggy's breasts were quite large, though her
shoulders were narrow. I remembered when I
had first seen her in the classroom, how
tall and delicate-boned she had looked. All
this middle-aged heaviness now hung on these
small bones. The exception was her hips.
There was plenty of wide heavy bone-mass
there, and her figure was truly hourglass,
except not so tightly pinched in the middle.
Her blonde pubic hair was still wet with the
bath, and was of darker hue than her hair.
I sat on the bed and pivoted my stocking
feet up and into the cover of the sheet.
I sat a moment by leaning against the
Backboard, wondering, "Now what?"
"Take your cock out, please, Jon. Let me
hold you while you read me the story."
A beat, then I unzipped my pants and
released my hardness, which she immediately
took into her hands. Peggy had peculiar
hands. They were big, and long, but so
limber, narrow and soft, it was as if there
were only cartilage under the milk-white
skin. I had held these hands before in
friendship, and had noticed their strange
touch. To feel and see them wrapped around
my sex was almost alien, almost incestuous,
but it was not. This full-bodied woman was
not of my blood. Nevertheless she was an
old friend, and literally my neighbor's wife.
I can't begin to describe the mingled
feelings of tingling guilt and wild
excitement that filled me as she began to
gently stroke me, and said, "Read it Jon,
read the rest."
(Quote)
Jennifer's hand led mine down into her warm
folds, and her moisture was beginning to
seep onto our fingers. I felt her take a
deep breath, and press into herself with her
hand. She experienced no wild orgasm,
nothing spectacular, just a sweet kind of
surrender to utter relaxation. Suddenly,
she squeezed her thighs together, trapping
my hand, and released a long sigh. Then she
turned her back, showing her sweet ass to
me, and I painfully dragged my hand away.
I realized now that the clock must be
moving, and I had to get out of this room.
It seemed to take forever for me to slip the
panties back up her legs and over her ample
bottom. The side against the mattress never
fully returned to her waistline, but it was
all I could manage. The rest of her regalia
was easy to put back to normal, and when I
finished, I stood, looking down at her,
realizing then I had not yet stroked her
beautiful legs. I walked over and ran my
hand down the length of one of them, sighed
and turned toward the door. I pressed down
my erection as best I could and walked down
the hall. I looked at the hall clock, the
anxious affair had taken just under fifteen
minutes. I rounded the corner and saw my
wife and Phil dancing slowly and closely
with each other. I cleared my throat as I
drew near, and they parted gradually, still
keeping one of their arms intertwined with
the other's arm. They both smiled at me.
Toni said, "Did you enjoy yourself?"
(Unquote)
"The End!" I said, looking down at Peg's
soft grip on my penis.
"Oh baby, he didn't even get to come, did
he?" Peggy whined.
Her large leg swung over my pelvis, very
quickly for a woman of her stature. With
her soft hands, she fed me to her sex, which
swallowed mine with one glorious, wet
enclosure. I reached for those marvelous
hips, the exaggerated hips of the ancient
pagan fertility goddess, and ground them to
me. As I emptied myself into her welcoming
pussy, I remembered her big-sister-talk with
me so many years before. "Jon, I don't
think you want to become involved with a
girl like Diane. She's already gone all the
way, and once you have, you can't stop doing
it."
THE END
<1st attachment end>
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