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Message-ID: <27648asstr$975553801@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Alfred E" <alfrede65@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} <*> Homecoming (MF, not prom)
Date: Wed, 29 Nov 2000 22:10:01 -0500
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Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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<1st attachment, "homecoming.txt" begin>

                              Homecoming
                    (yet) another Alfred E. story

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

According to Microsoft Word, I write smut on a 6th grade level.  But 
that doesn't mean you 6th graders can read it.  So if you're under 18, 
or easily offended, or illiterate, go away.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

He stepped off campus, clutching the Amtrak ticket in his hand as he 
strode briskly towards the train station, a mile away.  He had shoved 
his free hand into his coat against the cold.  The hand clenching the 
ticket slowly became a block of ice, but he only griped it tighter.

Reaching the train station, he stood on the platform, the wind cutting 
viscously across the tracks.  He was still standing, resolute, not 
shivering, when the train thundered by.  It seemed as though it would 
miss the platform completely, but then screeched to a halt.

He boarded the train, stowing his one suitcase.  The trip over the 
mountains would be a long one, and he settled himself into the seat and 
the end on the train.   He stared blankly out at the cold, dark 
landscape as it began to roll by.  

Counting Crows seeped from his headphones into his brain.  It's good to 
be going home, he thought to himself.  He had been away for too long, 
alone for too long.  College was OK, classes were fine, and the people 
were all right, he guessed, but still, it was good to be going home.

It was late, approaching midnight at least when the train finally 
ground to its last stop for the night.  It had been through countless 
small towns, and had made several stops already.  But this would be the 
last stop, and he could almost here in the relief in the jets of steam 
escaping the cylinders.

His friend John was waiting at the platform, like they had planned.  
John's girlfriend Amanda was there, of course.  She would always be 
there, where John was, her slightly small, pretty Asian body standing 
just  behind his.

Grabbing his bag and stepping off the train, he clasped John's hand, 
and pulled into a hug, the way guys like to do.  He was a good friend 
of Amanda, too, and she hugged him as well.  He enjoyed the almost 
guilty pleasure of hugging John's girlfriend, feeling the warmth of her 
body for just a second.

"Denny's?" John asked simply.

"Of course."  He was always up to go to Denny's late at night.  It was 
something they had always done before, when everyone was still in town.  
Now that school had started again, they were all scattered across the 
country.  George was in Vermont.  Jared was in California.  Even Brent 
was gone, to Nebraska, of all places.  

But John and Amanda were still in town, and a couple of others.  And 
now he was back, too, stretching his arms up and out, breathing the 
hometown air.  It really was good to be back.

Denny's was a frugal affair.  College students were all stereotypically 
poor, and they were all very stereotypical college students.  Still, 
they managed to stay chatting for hours over their $5 dinners.  It was 
almost like old times.  Like it had been, back in the day, he called 
it.

After dinner, they drove back through town in John's oversize old car, 
towards his house.  The plan was for them to all crash back at John's 
house.  He would meet up with his parents, who would be asleep by now, 
tomorrow.  

Coming up to the driveway, now, John saw the new white sedan sitting 
there.

"Shit.  My parent's weren't supposed to be back until tomorrow.  You 
guys can't crash here if my parent's are home," he turned to Amanda 
with a wink, - "and you definitely can't."

Worries crashed into his head.  He couldn't barge into his house this 
late at night.  Besides, he didn't have the key with him.  If he 
couldn't stay with John, where would he stay?  Luckily, Amanda spoke 
up.

"You could probably stay at my place tonight.  I mean, my parent's are 
out on that ski trip with Frank and Linda.  So if you don't mind, 
John..."

"Hmm?  Of course not.  We couldn't leave our friend out in the cold."  
He drove the short distance to Amanda's house, and dropped them off, 
leaving a small kiss on Amanda's forehead.  "'Night," he called back, 
driving away.

They walked into Amanda's house, and he went back to the family room 
and plopped onto the couch.  He'd been here before, of course, with 
John or sometimes with some of the other guys.  He liked it here, warm 
and kind of cozy.  Amanda's parents had filled it up with all sorts of 
not-quite-tacky stuff.  He picked up a carved elephant from the coffee 
table and toyed with it absent-mindedly.

"Want to watch a movie?" Amanda asked, moving across the room.  Even 
though it was well after 2, they were both used to staying up until 
what other's would call way to late on the weekends.

"Sure."

Amanda picked out Beauty and the Beast.  She had always had an affinity 
for Disney movies that made him smile.  He, too, had something of a 
soft spot for those timeless films, but of course, he would never admit 
it.

Amanda popped it in and tossed him the remote.  "I'm gonna go change, 
don't let the movie start without me, ok?"

He sat watching the first couple of previews, when the picture 
gradually began to grow fuzzy.  He started pressing buttons on the 
remote that he thought might help at random, but it only got worse.  

He turned around on the couch to face Amanda's room, "Hey, how do you -
"

But that was as far as he got before he had to stop in utter shock.  
Instead of seeing Amanda's closed bedroom door, it was wide open, 
framing a topless Amanda in sweat pants.  He'd been sneaking glances of 
her all night, and would be the first to never admit he envied John for 
finding this gentle, warm creature first.  Now all he could do was 
stare, open-mouthed.

She didn't scream or slam the door immediately like John expected.  
Instead, she stood there perfectly still for a second, stunned.  Her 
wonderfully formed breasts, medium sized, and slightly upraised almost 
as if to face him, covered with small goosebumps.  The gumdrop nipple 
pointed ever so slightly upward, standing out a little because of the 
cool air.

After what seemed like minutes, but must have been less than a second, 
she broke out of her own shock, and turned a deep shade of crimson, 
throwing her pastel pink tank-top on quickly.  

"I... I just..." she fumbled for words for a minute, and then simply 
took the remote silently and pressed a few buttons, perfecting the 
picture.  Still slightly red, she sat on the couch, away from him, 
staring straight ahead at the TV.

He took this opportunity to study her a little more closely.  Her small 
Asian body was curled up, wrapped tightly a blanket in the corner.  
Even beneath the covering he could see the swooping, seductive curves 
of her body.  His eyes roamed over her, travelling up from the slender 
yet full hips, past the narrowing of her hips, and the final swelling, 
completing the hourglass.

It wasn't just her body that interested him; she had a beautiful face, 
that pulled him in like an enchantment.  Mostly it was her eyes, he 
decided.  She had large, almond shaped eyes.  They weren't black, like 
he had expected them to be when he first met her, but a kind of deep, 
satiny brown.

Her face was soft looking, and slightly round, coming to a soft point 
at her chin.  Her hair was short, almost one of those popular "pixie" 
haircuts.  Despite its shortness, it had the look of hair that hadn't 
been trimmed for a while.  Instead of detracting form her beauty, he 
thought it only added immensely, framing her face softly and giving her 
a warm, friendly look.

At some point around the time that Belle was being captured by The 
Beast, Amanda noticed him watching her, and her warm eyes met his 
briefly.

"Are you cold?  We can share the blanked if you want?"  Amanda's voice 
was friendly, and didn't betray any of her previous embarrassment.  He 
wasn't cold, but jumped on the offer anyway, pulling the large blanket 
so it was around them with a word of thanks.  Inside it was warm and 
comfortable, and he could feel her body heat radiating out, even though 
they weren't touching.

There was something about this closeness that he really liked, even 
though he knew she couldn't ever be his, not really.  His friendship 
with John was too good for him to want to risk compromising it.  Still, 
there was a definite connection between him and Amanda, and the more he 
thought about it, the more he envied John.

He and Amanda has done most of the talking at Denny's, almost to the 
exclusion of John.  They had talked about school, and how much they 
missed everyone that had been home a few short months ago.  They talked 
about classes, and jobs, and even their grandparents.  He had always 
found in easy and interesting to talk to her.

When he finally broke out of his reverie, candlesticks and clocks where 
dancing and singing across the screen, and he noticed that Amanda had 
scooted closer and was almost snuggled against him.

"I'm cold," she said, as though she was looking for an excuse.  For a 
while he just sat there awkwardly, feeling the heat of her body against 
him.  Finally, he draped his across the back of the couch, and then 
after more awkwardness let it fall across her warm shoulders.

He told himself that they were just being friends, doing the friendly 
things that friends do.  But a part of his brain told him differently, 
and he gazed down on her beautiful hair, and sculpted shoulder blades.  
Beyond the graceful swoop of her shoulder blades he could see the very 
beginning of the well of her chest before it dove out of sight under 
the shadow of her tank-top.  His manhood twitched slightly, and 
threatened to embarrass him, but never did.

Then, as he sat watching utensils dance across the screen, her suddenly 
mouth found his, and there was something like an explosion of surprise 
in his head.  She still sat along the couch, cuddled against him as she 
kissed him , the head turned in a way that accentuated her neck.  His 
hand went up, almost instinctually and rested against her neck, against 
the lower edge of her jaw.

Then, after the shock, he settled into the kiss, felling her warmth 
through her mouth and through his hand.  Their mouths melted into each 
other's, and his tongue soon found hers.

With both of his hands resting under her chin now, he pulled her into 
himself.  Her breath was warm and slightly sweet, and her lips tasted 
softly of strawberries.  Her tongue was gently pressing its way into 
his mouth now, tasting his lips and exploring the warm wetness of his 
mouth.  He could imagine her small pink tongue as it brushed over his 
lips: see the small wetness in his mind as it probed into him.

Suddenly, as he tasted the pink wetness of Amanda's tongue, the world 
crashed down around him, onto his head.  He suddenly pulled away from 
her, and gave her the look a frightened animal gives.  As much as he'd 
wanted this to happen, he wasn't prepared for it.  As many times as 
he'd dreamed of kissing her, he never thought he would, never thought 
he'd have to make these decisions.

He stammered.  "Are... are you sure?  I mean..."

She only brushed back his hair and looked into his eyes.  He could see 
the depth and warmth in those satiny eyes, and also the desire, and the 
longing.

"Of course I'm sure.  I want you.  I've always wanted you."

"But..."

"I want you."

She pulled him into a deep kiss, holding on tightly, but with a 
softness, too.  He could sense the desire in her kiss, too, her tongue 
pulling him into her with long, beckoning strokes in his mouth.

He put his hand around her waist and guided he body against his, until 
he could feel her nipples press through the thin material of his T-
shirt and her pink tank top.  He felt the warmth - no the heat - from 
her body as it pressed against his.

Amanda's hand ran through his hair, brushing it back, letting it fall 
into his eyes, and then brushing it back again.  Her other rested 
lightly against the length of his cheek.  He loves the feel of her 
slender hands, holding his face while he kissed her.

Keeping one hand on the small of her back, his other went to her chest, 
resting at first against the side of breast.  He let it lay there, 
memorizing the shape and the curve beneath the slight texture of her 
tank top.  He could feel her breathing heavily out her nose onto his 
face, and breathed it in.

They were still sitting upright on the couch, but Amanda had brought 
one leg up and around him in such a way that the length his hardness 
pressed directly against her.  He could hear her gasp slightly as she 
pulled him firmly against her with the leg, and almost gasped himself 
at the warm pressure.

Amanda had wormed one hand under his shirt, and was peeling it off of 
his slightly muscled chest.  He, too, began to pull her shirt off, 
slowly, his eyes following the line between cloth and flesh as it 
flowed up the curves her belly, and on to the erect nipples, standing 
out on those hills that hugged her chest, not flatly, but with a 
firmness of youth.

As Amanda lay a hand against his chest, he brought his up to cup her 
breasts lightly from underneath, his thumbs slowly tracing circles 
around the dark half-dollars, careful not to touch her nipples, 
teasing.  They had stopped kissing, simply looking into each other's 
faces, and watching the pleasure flicker back and forth.  He loved to 
see this look of hunger and ecstasy that he had created, and was 
manipulating with his hands.

He let his thumbs flick lightly over her nipples, and watched her 
almost melt into a puddle, her chest heaving with the sudden sensation.  
Her leg pulled him hard against her as she pounced into a kiss, her 
hands working at his pants now, trying to release the zipper.

Somehow she managed to undo them with her now-shaking hands.  She 
pushed him back onto the couch pulling his pants and socks off.  The 
remaining boxers did almost nothing to conceal his large phallus, which 
made a tall tent.

Even before he could begin to undo her tight jeans, she had pulled his 
boxer shorts off, too, and had one slender hand wrapped around his 
horn.  He opened his mouth is happy shock as her head dropped over his 
swollen mushroom head, and she wrapped the warm wetness of her mouth 
around it.

Amanda began to make slow strokes with her mouth, bringing him deeper 
into her every time, her tongue lazily gliding up and down the length 
of his shaft.

It wasn't long at all until she pulled away from him, however, tracing 
up the slight line of his abs and up his chest, leaving him trembling.  
She had begun to undo her own tight jeans deftly, and soon was naked, 
straddling him as he lay back on the couch.

He could only lay there helpless, gazing at the and the subtle curves 
of her body, from the almost shaggy hair around her beautiful face, the 
sculpted sweep on her collar bones, over the graceful hills of her 
breast, down across the curve of her belly, to the dark wetness hiding 
behind the silk hair at the junction of her legs.

She raised off of him so that she kneeled with her wetness poised over 
his rod as the pointed it into the air with her slender hand.  He 
closed his eyes to concentrate on the feeling as she let herself slide 
slowly over him, the wet and the heat enveloping his length.

As she began to rock back and forth on top of, he slowly sat up, 
clutching her hot nakedness to him, his own pelvis rocking a sensual 
rhythm with hers.

The slowly bent down again, this time with him over her, supporting his 
weight with his arms.  As he began to move slowly inside of her, he 
felt her nipple press against his own, lightly.  She moaned and rocked, 
the muscles of her tunnel slowly pulsing, caressing him with the 
slippery warmth of her vaginal walls.

Thrusting inside her, her kissed her in rhythm with his thrusts and her 
rocking, his tongue and lips caressing her own.  They climbed together 
to the plateau of their pleasure, and stayed there, feeling the slow 
pleasure and heat of their coupling, the warmth and the wet and the 
smell of her arousal, and the soft noises and heavy breathing.

He felt the walls of Amanda's sex tightening and her breath becoming 
ragged, and knew what it meant.  His thrusts became deeper and quicker, 
reaching far down inside of her, covering his phallus with the wetness 
of her sex.

His own breathing became ragged and the muscles in his legs tensed 
pleasurably.  Soon he could hold onto himself no longer, and just as 
she gripped him tightly with her wetness, he exploded inside of her, as 
her muscles all contracted and then released, her sex fluttering around 
him as he filled it with him warm essence.

With this explosion of pleasure, his weight dropped along side of her, 
and he watched her slight trembling and her chest heaving.  His own 
breathing was deep, but regular now, and he felt that old pleasant 
drowsiness overtake him.

Days later at the train platform, he watched her from the doorway of 
the train, short minutes before he would be gone again.  She was there 
with John, but he didn't even notice him.

"I love you," she mouthed silently to him.  He could only smile, turn, 
and disappear into the train.

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Here's another story.  Hot off the presses.  As always, please direct 
any and all comments to "AlfredE65@hotmail.com".  I am always overjoyed 
to hear from my readers, so don't be shy!

I seem to have a problem.  Although it's fairly obvious to myself that 
I'm a pretty good (at least mediocre) writer, my sex scenes seem to be 
lacking.  Proof reading this story, I barely got half a boner, which 
isn't a good sign.  What do you guys think?

I should have a web page up soon.  Does anyone know of any good (free) 
place to host a sexy web page?  I can't seem to get my asstr-mirror.org 
account to work, and the site is extremely slow anyway.


<1st attachment end>


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