Message-ID: <29527asstr$985529402@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: <news@flotsam.uits.indiana.edu> X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: eXXXcelsior@hushmail.kom (eXXXcelsior) X-Original-Message-ID: <3abd3618.278475768@news.indiana.edu> Subject: {ASSM} The Psychomimetic Experience Date: Sun, 25 Mar 2001 09:10:02 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2001/29527> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: RuiJorge, kelly The following text contains descriptions of sexual relations and drug use. If you are a minor, please go do something more socially acceptable. The following work is Copyright 2001 by the author. Permission is hereby granted to repost or electronically archive this story so long as no profit is made as a result. Offer not good after curfew in sectors R or N. Comments are appreciated. Replace ".kom" with ".com" to reply -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Psychomimetic Experience (mf teen oral drugs) by eXXXcelsior I was 16 the first time I dropped acid. A friend of mine was very into drugs at the time, and for some reason he decided that it would be a good idea to turn me on to hard psychedelics. I still wonder why he made that particular decision-perhaps it has something to do with the fact that I dressed like a flower child (tie-dyes, torn blue jeans, shoulder-length hair) but had little drug experience beyond the occasional joint. Whatever his reason, one afternoon Scott accosted me in the hall between Calculus and English. "Hey, Josh," he said, surreptitiously checking to see if anyone was paying attention to our conversation. "I have something for you. Come with me." I wasn't the most adventurous type of person my freshman year, but I had steadily become less adverse to risk and strange situations, so I more than willingly followed my associate into the boys' room if only in order to see what he had planned. The one-minute warning bell had just rung, so the bathroom was emptying out as we entered. Once we were alone Scott opened his backpack and after digging around for a moment extracted a small, foil-wrapped package. He pressed it into my hand saying "LSD. It's time you gave it a try. There's two tabs in there-try splitting it with Mel tonight. Make sure you drop before midnight, and try to avoid public areas or you might wig out." With that he zipped up his bag and left. I quietly called "Thanks," after him as he reached the door, but his only response was a grin remarkably similar to that which I would see on Melissa's face later that night. I slipped the drug into the front pocket of my backpack, knowing that I would be able to pull it out and dispose of it more easily should I come should I come under any suspicion. Then, suddenly realizing that I was late to my Study Hall, I hurried to the cafeteria. Study Hall was my second-least favorite class of the day. I only had one class after Study Hall, and that was Health, a required class that was universally condemned as a total waste of time, and so I regarded Study Hall as merely putting off the inevitable hour of abstinence advocacy, drug war disinformation, and the ignorance of my fellow students. Fortunately, I shared my Study Hall with Melissa, my girlfriend at the time. We made it a point to share a table so we could pass notes. Talking was forbidden lest it disturb those mythological students who actually did homework during Study Hall, so notes were the only method of communication we could use. I entered the room as the final bell rang, spotted Mel, and hurried to a seat across from her. The aide shot a dirty look my direction, but said nothing, as I was generally compliant with her rather draconian policies. Mel raised one eyebrow at me and I shrugged in response as I took my seat. Pulling a piece of paper from my Biology notebook I smiled, then wrote, "Guess what I have?" and passed it to Melissa. She glanced at my note, wrote her response, and passed it back. "Jesus' love?" it read, "If so, you should give it back-it's rude to steal from the dead." Stifling a snicker, I told her most of the story, omitting my source and scratching out any incriminating lines in order to prevent anyone else from knowing what it was we were talking about should they somehow read our conversation. We arranged for her to tell her parents that she was staying at a friend's house tonight and then come over after my parents had fallen asleep. Since both of my parents were employed at jobs that required rising well before daybreak it was certain that they would be asleep by 10pm, which would give us plenty of time. My room was located in the attic of our house, and no one ever bothered to come upstairs unless I asked them to, as I had made it perfectly clear over the last few years that I needed a private space in order to remain civil. True to form, my parents bade me good night around 9:30 and wandered off to bed. I sat at the kitchen table reading the latest Scientific American until I heard the back door open. I rose and greeted Mel with a hug and a passionate kiss. "So, it's going to be one of those nights," she smiled. We stole upstairs, exchanging grins with my 15 year-old brother Kerry who lay on the sofa watching cartoons and nursing a soda. I had been playing a game with him wherein he occasionally hid a video camera in my room when I had Melissa over, and I searched until I found it and turned it off. He was the one member of my family whose company I almost invariably welcomed. I gave my room a thorough search for the camera I knew might be secreted therein, but I turned up nothing. Mel had anticipated my mood and worn a short, black skirt and a tight, white, button-down blouse. The arousal was mutual, it seemed, as she immediately tugged me down onto the bed next to her and locked her lips over mine. Our tongues slid over one another for somewhere between twenty seconds and an hour. We broke, smiling. I rose and turned down the lights, then put the CDs in my stereo disc-changer on a random loop. "Close your eyes," I intoned, "and stick out your tongue." "Normally clich s don't work on me, but tonight is an exception," Mel retorted as she complied. I took the foil-wrapped package from my mini-fridge and opened it. Then, gently gripping the edges, I drew out one of the orange tabs and placed it gently on her tongue, then handed her a bottle of spring water from my mini-fridge. "Swallow," I commanded. Mel withdrew her tongue, and her throat muscles worked as she took a long draught from the bottle. She took the packet from my hand and drew me down to my knees. I shut my eyes, and extended my tongue, and soon I was swallowing my own dose as resolutely as she. We lay back on the mattress and took one another's hand as we let the music engulf us. Soon the music hit a climax, and at it receded I looked at Mel, only to find her gazing back at me. I rolled over and pecked Melissa on the lips. Then I took her right earlobe into my mouth and sucked gently. I felt her swallow as I moved up her ear, lightly licking my way to the top ridge of cartilage, then biting it gently and sweeping my tongue across the rounded tip. Melissa's neck muscles tensed as she drew a slow, deep breath, then suddenly she was on top of me, our lips locked and tongues furiously lashing one another. I sunk my fingers into her shoulder-length, dark blonde hair and lightly pressed my pelvis to hers. Rolling so that we lay on our sides, I ran my left hand up her side, and cupped her right breast. She inhaled, and I felt her hard nipple push into my palm. Her breasts were size B, she had told me once, and so she rarely wore a bra. Despite my culture's obsession with exceptionally endowed women I considered her perfectly sized, an opinion I communicated to her with a gentle squeeze. Her hand slid down my chest and stopped on my lower belly. I felt her fumble with my belt. I pushed her hand away and rose to my feet, pulling her up with me. Melissa reached down and unbuckled my belt while I pulled my shirt up and over my head. I unbuttoned her blouse and drew it off her shoulders, admiring her breasts as I did so. I leaned down and slid my tongue across her left aureole just below the nipple, then pulled the nipple itself into my mouth and ran my tongue over it. I felt her nipple grow erect in my mouth and heard her suck in her breath in response to my actions. She pulled my head from her bosom and mashed her lips to mine, her tongue lashing against my own. Mel had no trouble unfastening my jeans now that my belt was removed, and I soon found myself naked, locked in an embrace with my half-naked girlfriend. Back in bed, I slowly ran my hand up Mel's leg as I nibbled on her ear. Reaching that warm junction of the legs I was less than surprised to discover her unshielded groin. "Forget to finish dressing again? I didn't know I was that distracting," I teased. "I gave them to your brother when I came in," Mel grinned, "he offered to trade me a copy of the tape he's making tonight. I laughed. "He got the sweeter end of that bargain, honey. I already looked for his camera, and he's not taping tonight." Melissa gasped as I slid a finger into her. "For some reason I don't mind being defrauded. Of course, I'd rather be defiled..." "Give me time, girl. You and your obsession with instant gratification." "There's nothing wrong with knowing what you want and pursuing it." I signaled my agreement by slipping a second finger into her wetness and pressing the tip of my thumb against her clitoris. Resting on one elbow I looked down at Mel's reclining form. Her half-closed lids obscured dilated pupils and parted lips displayed a glimpse of pink tongue. As she neared orgasm her muscles tightened and she arched her back, the perfect mounds of her breasts standing out against the tapestry on the wall beyond. Mel gripped my upper arm. "I want you in me. Now." I've never been the sort to argue with logic like that. I withdrew my hand and quickly positioned myself between her parted thighs. Placing the head of my penis at her entrance I slowly pushed forward into her. Mel wrapped her legs around me in order to get deeper penetration, then started bucking her hips up at me as she neared her orgasm once again. Trying to follow her feverish pace, I slipped into the fastest rhythm I could maintain and dedicated myself to keeping up with the squirming girl beneath me. Finally Mel hit her climax, and she let the world know by letting out a long, low moan and digging her short nails into my sides. The feeling of her vaginal muscles clenching combined with the pain she inflicted with her fingernails put me over the edge, and I emptied myself inside her. I continued pumping as I spurted my semen into Mel, prompting another series of moans. Mel limply released me long enough for us to separate, then snuggled up. Her face, lit as it was with her usual post-coital glow, struck me as one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen. We exchanged a few light kisses and drifted off to sleep by mutual consent. Some time later I drifted back into consciousness, acutely aware of the opening bars of The Thieving Magpie and still gently holding a sleeping Melissa. At the first crescendo she shifted slightly, then slowly opened her eyes. Kissing Mel's forehead, I rose and turned off the overhead light, lit a few candles I had placed around the room, and then returned to bed. The brilliant smile Mel flashed me as I sat matched my own. "How long did we sleep?" "Just long enough, I think." While we lay abed the multiverse had become a gloriously complex and perfect system. The simple act of breathing took on new implications and became a joy. I ran my hands through Mel's hair, and she likewise examined mine. We became two simians grooming one another, lost in the primeval significance of our symbiotic impulses. The pounding final measures of the song drew us back to the present and we released one another's tresses. For a long while we didn't move. Presently I became aware that I was erect and Mel was softly stroking my penis with her left hand while her right dipped between her legs and massaged her own genitalia. I reached under her arm and brushed her hand away, taking its place at her clitoris. We established a slow, smooth rhythm, her hand meeting the base of my shaft as my own fingers reached the depth of their shallow penetration. I looked up from Melissa's groin and met her eyes. The standard color classifications have always seemed overly simple with respect to eyes, in my opinion, but the depth and complexity of Melissa's light blue eyes had never been so pronounced. I stared into her pupils, unable to fathom the structure of her irises and unwilling to so divert my attention from the tasks at hand. Although neither of us was nearing climax, Mel released me and took hold of my right wrist. Drawing my hand to her lips she engulfed first one finger, then the next in her mouth, eagerly licking her juices from my digits. Before I realized that I intended to mount her Mel noticed my muscles tensing. "Wait, not yet," she breathed, then kissed me full on the lips. I tasted her for a moment then she was gone, having moved down to lick and suckle my nipples. I sucked in a quick breath and my abs tensed as Mel's tongue danced over my aureole then firmly flicked my erect nipple. After thirty seconds or an hour of such treatment (I have no idea which) she continued to work her way down my body. Nestling my erection into her cleavage, she pressed her breasts together thereby creating a warm, if dry, tunnel. I gently rocked my hips as she rose and fell with me. Releasing me from her bosom Mel took my penis in her right hand and stroked it more vigorously than before and lightly kissed the engorged glans, then lowered her head and took one of my testicles into her mouth. I reclined, resting on my elbows as Mel continued. The candles' flickering light combined with the fabulously carnal pleasure I was experiencing from below to produce a strange sort of willful paralysis. Mel moved up and licked the head of my penis, then gently probed my urethra. My hips, uncontrollably, rolled forward and Mel responded by taking me into the wet warmth of her mouth. Rapt, I watched my shaft slide between her lips as she rhythmically sucked me, causing her breasts, partially obscured by her hair, to sway slightly. I reclined still further and closed my eyes. While I watched the patterns being projected on the inside of my eyelids by some insurgent portion of my visual system, Mel's fellating ceased to bear any resemblance to the standard oral-sex experience. A white, dripping pleasure permeated my groin like a slow explosion, and I rose to some new plane of sensation, gamboling in a hedonic mecca of wet flesh and flashing nerves. I jerked once, twice, then erupted apocalyptically into Mel's heavenly purgatorial mouth. My orgasm continued, and burning muscles complained with such pain as I had never known; glorious, illuminating pain suffusing my groin and mind. I shuddered and wept with release, my brain releasing neurotransmitters in massive, imprinting gouts. I weakly lifted my head and opened my eyes intending to kiss Mel as deeply as I knew how, then perform cunnilingus until her eyes rolled back in her head and she woke the neighbors with her cries, rumor be damned. Instead I was greeted by a barbaric vision: Mel's grinning visage streaked with what looked like runny strawberry jam. Barking a short laugh, she disgorged a torn and shriveled bit of flesh onto my stomach and collapsed, her facial muscles spasming, onto the floor. Rich, scarlet blood spewed from the truncated shaft of my penis, splattering on the hardwood floor and painting Melissa an even more gory color in the midst of her convulsions. The room's dimensions shrank, crushing me into unconsciousness. I awoke to the sound of machinery and murmuring voices. My throat was burning dry, so I groggily forced my eyes open in order to find some helpful soul of whom I might demand glass of water. I was confused to find myself in a in an unpleasantly olive and off-white room until a white-coated woman bustled by the doorway with a tray of shining steel and glassware. Vague and partial memories floated into my skull, and I concluded that this must be a hospital, else the afterlife was somewhat less pleasurable than I had been led to believe. I hailed the next passerby with a violent croak, and within fifteen minutes was surrounded by my family. My brother explained that he had heard noises more strange than usual from my room and had knocked on the door. Receiving no answer, he then opened the door and proceeded upstairs to investigate, but it didn't take him long to hurry downstairs, wake my parents, and call 911. A blood test showed that both Mel and I had ingested Phencycldine-a tranquilizer commonly known as PCP. As is sometimes the case with PCP, Mel had a violent reaction, while my own experience was anything but. Mel was slowly recovering in a nearby ward. After making sure that my cognitive functions hadn't deteriorated in any measurable way, my family left Kerry behind to keep me company and took their leave of me. Once we were alone Kerry told me the real story. It seems my cursory search may have saved my life that night. My brother had recently obtained the keys to the school's audio-visual room and borrowed a small digital camera and monitor. After concealing the camera in my room he ran the cable along the wall by the carpet on the stairwell and into his own room where he connected the monitor to the VCR he had received for Christmas the year before. Once Mel and I had disappeared upstairs, he began recording and rolled a joint. Toweling the door, he smoked and improvised on his bass until the show really began. When he saw Melissa collapse in seizures, he was shocked almost as much as he was to see my wound. Turning off the monitor but leaving the recorder running, he proceeded to do his best to rectify the situation. I was out of the hospital in sixty days, and fully recovered six months after the incident. My parents never found out about the tape, but occasionally Kerry, Mel, and I watch it once they're in bed. Mel and I are still together, and Kerry and I are closer than ever. There's something about having your genitals chewed off that makes one appreciate the Damoclean nature of life. -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> | | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+