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Message-ID: <27972asstr$977422205@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: AimTwoPlease <aimtwoplease@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Aftereffects (MF) by AimTwoPlease
Date: Thu, 21 Dec 2000 13:10:05 -0500
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Aftereffects
  -- by AimTwoPlease

Elaine stood next to me at the hotel bar with a bemused twinkle in her
eyes that was probably in part due to the fact that thirty minutes
earlier we'd been fucking like crazed weasels in the hotel room.  I
would have been happy to stay in bed and order-in, but Elaine had
wanted to get some fresh air.  She twirled her drink with its little
red straw and leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially, "I'm leaking
like crazy.  Maybe I should have worn underwear."

My cock began to stir.

Elaine leaned against the bar, sipped her drink, and smiled
mischievously with those piercing blue eyes.  It didn't seem as though
she was blaming me, even if I did have the lion's share of
responsibility for what was leaking.  It was Elaine's idea to forego
wearing her panties.  "It makes me feel sexy," she'd said.  And now
here she was, her bare legs extending below a thin, tropical dress
festooned with gaudy flowers, looking about as sexy as a woman can
look, panties or no panties.

I locked my eyes to Elaine's and mused silently about what was going on
between her legs.  We'd arrived in Los Cabos a few hours earlier for
short, four-day jaunt.  It hadn't taken long to discover that Elaine
had done a severe bikini trim of her normal thicket.  She'd left a thin
mustache on each outer labia and a small, furry red-haired patch
above.  My face hadn't detected any stubble.

"So," I said, "How's your drink?"

"Mmm," Elaine purred, taking another sip.  She leaned forward again.
Her breath was moist in my ear.  "I can feel it moving down the insides
of my thighs."  She paused and nipped my earlobe.  "I'm not sure I'll
be able to sit down at the table."

"There's always room service," I reminded her.  Her body remained close
to mine, swaying gently to the beat of the music in the next room.
When she casually brushed a hand across my hardening bulge, it might
have even seemed accidental to an onlooker.  I knew Elaine well enough
to know it wasn't accidental.

She put her drink down on the bar.  "Or maybe we can come back down."
She smiled a wicked smile.  "Afterwards."

It took only five minutes to get back to the room.  Less than one
minute of that was spent in the elevator.  Elaine directed my right
hand underneath her dress, and she stood there brazenly, her feet
apart, as my fingers explored her slippery thighs and the slick wetness
of her still-pouty cleft.  Once inside the room, Elaine pulled her
dress up and off, tossing it across the back of a chair.  I hadn't
noticed when we'd left the room that she wasn't wearing a bra, either.
Now I noticed.

Elaine was in a glorious, rutting rush.  She yanked up on my shirt
while I shucked my pants and underwear, then she then grabbed my hand
and pulled me over to the rumpled bed.  I managed to slip off my
loafers on the way, one after the other in an almost comical stumbling
dance.  Elaine tumbled onto her back, her ass barely making it on the
bed, and she kept pulling at me as she wriggled more solidly to the
middle.  She was all giggles and busy hands, and her legs wrapped
firmly around my thighs to line me up.

She was still wearing her shoes.  They were red, open-toed sandals with
two-inch heels and lacings wound up to above her ankles.  Fuck-me
pumps.  "Come'ere, big boy," she growled and tugged at me.  My erection
found her sweet split, and suddenly I was inside her, buttery slick and
hot.  I gasped at the raw sexuality of it, of her.  "Oh, fuck!" she
murmured and wiggled her hips from side to side to bury me
deeper.  "Sometimes I feel like such a slut."

We eventually did make it down to the restaurant that night.  Elaine
wore her panties.


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