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Message-ID: <30011asstr$988146604@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Deja User" <empath69@my-deja.com>
Subject: {ASSM} "Alphabet Game: Civvies"{Dancer}(MF oral)
Date: Tue, 24 Apr 2001 17:10:04 -0400
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




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<1st attachment, "Civvies.txt" begin>

SUBJECT LINE:
{ASSM}"Alphabet Game: Civvies"{Dancer}(MF oral)


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Admonition: This story contains explicit descriptions of 
people engaging in careless and unprotected sexual 
activity.  PLEASE do not emulate these people since they 
are fictional characters existing in a fantasy world where 
sexually transmitted disease and unwanted pregnancy don't 
happen.  You don't live in such a world, so "let's be 
careful out there."

Oh, and minors shouldn't be reading this stuff - if you 
can't place the quote I just made in the last paragraph, 
you probably aren't old enough to be flipping through ASS*. 
Bugger off and watch 'TV Land' instead, so you can bone up 
for little age-testing quizzes like this! :)


Copyright notice: Dancer, the author of this smutty little 
opus, holds all rights of reproduction.  Private copies for 
personal perusal and archives for NON-commercial 
distribution are permitted by her.


Plea for attention: The only reward ASS* authors can expect 
is the joy of sharing their creation with the rest of 
humanity.  But wait - how does that author KNOW if people 
are reading and enjoying his story?  Yep; if you like a 
story posted to alt.sex.stories.*, the fair thing to do is 
email the author and tell them so.  I promise that it'll 
make YOU feel good to send them kudos, after all, Mark 
Twain said, "The best way to cheer yourself up is to try to 
cheer someone else up."  As always you may contact me (and 
my wife Dancer) through my 'legacy' Deja News email 
account:             <empath69@my-deja.com>  
(Wow, I'm not just an author, now I'm an AGENT, too!  ;)


Editor's Note: Here it is - part three of Dancer's 
'Alphabet Game'; twenty-six hot, little vignettes she 
whipped out in something like a week or two - Lord Malinov 
eat your heart out with that semi-annual 'story-a-day' run 
I remember *way* back in the 20th century! ;) (Is he still 
around?)

And relax - these stories are all self-contained - you 
don't HAVE to read them in order, or read any of the ones 
that might squick you...

=============

The Alphabet Game (3/26) 
Civvies (civilian clothes, as distinguished from Military 
uniform)

Copyright Dancer 2001

Joe Preston was tired of the women pawing him every 
Saturday night. Maverick's was a great navy bar - owned and 
run by ex-naval officers just off-base - but it was wall-
to-wall women, horny for a uniform. Joe actually 
anticipated his six-month stint back in the can*! This 
weekend would prove different because he'd dress in his 
civvies instead of the uniform and maybe, just maybe, meet 
a woman who wanted -him- and not the stinking uniform.

Dressed in a blue polo shirt, denim jeans and black 
sneakers, Joe got a ride to Maverick's from his buddies. 
They ribbed him about his clothes. "Hey, I get tired of 
beating the ladies off with a stick," Joe told them 
casually. They arrived at the bar, parked and went inside. 
Of course, the place was packed with people (60% female 
civilians) and Joe had to wind his way through the crowd to 
the bar itself. He wedged between a wall and a woman, 
calling out his beer order.

The bartender passed him the longneck. Joe stood there and 
sipped his drink, scanning the crowd for familiar faces. So 
far, none of the women were accosting him and he was 
grateful but disappointed. A hint of vanilla wafted under 
his nose and he sniffed briefly, wondering who was wearing 
the fragrance. The lady next to him jostled his arm and 
murmured, "Excuse me." She dug in a pocket of her sweater, 
pulled out a five spot and waved it in the air at the 
bartender. "Hey, Bill! I need another one!"

Vanilla drifted up, telling Joe this was the one who 
smelled so delicious. Her drink was set in front of her and 
she took a healthy swallow. As The King once said, 'It's 
now or never'. "My name's Joe Preston," he spoke above the 
din. "What's your perfume called?"

She glanced up at his face, warily replying, "Vanilla 
extract." Joe felt her beauty like a punch in the solar 
plexus. Her hair was a rich coffee color, offset by auburn 
highlights, eyes as blue as the Mediterranean, a pert 
little nose, thin, pink lips begging to be kissed and the 
face of an angel. The blood pooled in his groin as he 
imagined her swollen lips circling the head of his cock and 
he groaned.

"Do you have a name?" Joe asked, trying to settle his brain 
on hockey stats.

"Elaine Sherlock."

"Any relation to LJG* Adam Sherlock?"

"My ex-husband," Elaine said unhappily. He stared down at 
her as she leaned closer and confided, "Adam thought the 
uniform gave him carte blanche for affairs. The divorce has 
been final a few months now. I just haven't gone back to my 
maiden name yet."

"I guess this means a blowjob's out of the question," Joe 
whispered near her ear.

"Why?"

"I'm a navy ensign on six months shore duty."

Elaine pressed her mouth against his jaw. "Meet me at the 
red Taurus sedan outside. Plate number BBK 411." She put 
her drained glass on the bar and left. Joe waited five 
minutes, finished his beer and went after her. He found the 
car, climbed in and she drove them to a secluded area away 
from the base. She turned the ignition off and got out of 
the car. Joe watched her walk around to his side, open the 
door and maneuver his legs out.

She pushed him backwards and unzipped his fly, releasing 
him from his underwear. He sprang free, the thick member 
swaying slightly until Elaine wrapped a hand around it. 
"Mmm, Joe, you remind me of the big guns on the Iowa; fully 
loaded and ready to fire." She licked the tip of her tongue 
along the underside of the cockhead.

Joe sat up on his elbows so he would be able to see 
everything. "I don't have the same recoil, though." Her 
lips closed over the blushing cap, sucking just enough to 
taste the precum oozing from the hole. She went down 
halfway and sucked hard, rolling her tongue in a wave-like 
motion over his length. That lasted for a while until she 
drew back and began fucking her mouth with his fat prick. 
Joe let his eyes fall shut, enjoying her ministrations and 
thinking he could go all night.

Then, she started humming. His eyes shot open and he cried, 
"ELAINE! HOLY JESUS!" She paused briefly. "Don't stop! 
Please God, don't stop!" A gleam appeared in her eyes, her 
mouth smiling around the solid dick between her lips as she 
really went to work. All her moves played together as she 
sucked, tugged, swallowed, licked and hummed Joe's love 
stick to a quick and messy orgasm. Cum shot out the tiny 
opening, filling Elaine's oral cavity to capacity, 
eventually overflowing as she drank the tangy stuff down.

It leaked out the seam of her lips and dribbled across her 
chin as she swallowed as much as possible. Joe plunged his 
entire length past her gag point and down her throat, 
burying her face in his crotch hair. The annoying beep of 
his watch's alarm warned him to return to base ASAP. Elaine 
heard it, too and hurried to finish her blowjob. His hard-
on softened soon after cumming and he felt her hot mouth 
leave him. She lapped at the abating flesh, cleaning it 
thoroughly and running her tongue against his pubes to eat 
up the jism that nested there.

Joe set himself to rights and Elaine sped the car quickly 
towards the base. She drove to his barracks, tires 
squealing as she stopped. "Can I see you again?" he asked. 
She gave him a coy grin and nodded. He stepped out of her 
vehicle, waving goodbye as she pulled away.

End part 3

Postscript (and glossary:)
----------
* can is a nickname for a submarine
* LJG - Lieutenant Junior Grade


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