Message-ID: <30019asstr$988222203@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: <empath69@my-deja.com> X-Original-Message-ID: <200104251232.FAA24655@mail9.bigmailbox.com> From: "Deja User" <empath69@my-deja.com> Subject: {ASSM} "Alphabet Game: Email"{Dancer}(MF rom real) Date: Wed, 25 Apr 2001 14:10:03 -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 X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2001/30019> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: t4425, gill-bates ------------------------------------------------------------ <1st attachment, "Email.txt" begin> SUBJECT LINE: {ASSM}"Alphabet Game: Email"{Dancer}(MF rom real) ------- 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 five 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... ============= 'Email' is a condensed version of a few sexy vignettes Empath and I wrote to each other in 1997. I have his permission to publish this. {Empath: Does she EVER! Did you know I ended up saving and archiving EVERY personal email she sent me, even before we knew we were in love, or would (sort of) end up together? Filled most of a floppy AFTER zipping, but obviously it was worth it! :D } (Oh, and I've tried to keep the spelling/grammar that we had in these emails, to maintain the original 'rough flavor' they had at the time. We weren't that worried about proofing our 'work' at the time - both more interested in something else, but for the life of me I just *can't* remember what that was...;)} The Alphabet Game (5/26) Email: a Mikel & Nadine story Copyright Dancer 2001 ------- MT: Love, Here's that bit about the Holy Hand Grenade (thanks Paul). And the difference between emigrate and immigrate is: if you say you're coming from the US, you are emigrating. If you say you are going to Canada, you are immigrating. NS: Fine, but when does the traveler cease thinking that "I'm leaving the US." and start thinking "I'm going to Canada."? Yeah, yeah - I know, I'm quibbling. {Empath/Mikel's interjection: a year or two later I would find George Carlin wondered about the very same thing in his book _Brain_Droppings_ - "At what point in his journey does an emmigrant become an immigrant?" I think he's been paying her residuals. ;)} MT: It just depends on what comes out of his mouth at the time. Perhaps the closer to Canada, more immigration? I always tell people, "Come May of next year, I am OUTTA HERE!!!!!" Thank you IMMENSELY, darling - you're a godsend (like you didn't know this already) NS: <blush> Thanks... I LOVE YOU MIKEL TORSSON!!! <for the readers nearby> MT: ALRIGHT, how the FUCK did you know that I would be reading this at the library and not _at_home_ (like I usually do) ?!? =8) NS: <shrug> I'm a mom. I'm omnipotent!! <el> <husky voice> i love *you* mikel torsson <your ears only> MT: Ohhhhhh, I LOVE you, Nadine Sanders - I adore you, I lust for you, I admire you, I desire you, I covet you, I envy anything you touch, my heart REALLY doesn't seem as interested in keeping me going when you're not in earshot (honest)... NS: I was (unconsciously) fondling the fish sticks at noon. MT: <whispered> And I wanna fuck you 'til I see just the whites of your eyes. I want to lick you to so many orgasms we both lose count. I want to fill your ass with the warm hardness of my cock, while one hand is finger-fucking you and the other is teasing your clit. I want suckle your nipples until your whole body shakes. <and on a less carnal note> I want to care for you, house you, clothe you, give you all that you desire for, protect you, love you, honor you, cherish you, make you laugh, and more than anything else...I want to hold you. NS: Janitor walks by computer and scoops up the gelatinous mass. * * * * * * * MT: Now, to keep you warm on these rapidly cooling evenings: NS: (clipped because: a) I'll keep re-reading it and creaming my shorts b) my two functioning brain cells insist on cerebral control for schooling purposes c) see a) d) see a) e) see a) f) see a) <eyes glazed over, lips slightly apart, drool hanging from bottom lip> Uhhh...ummmm...<blink> Yeah, yeah...exactly what I want. <insert Homer Simpson 'mmmm'> I think our psychic connection is getting better and better. I don't remember telling you this fantasy, but *DAMN*, I like it. {Empath: Shit - I only have what she sent me; I never bothered keeping copies of MY emails TO her. This is one instance of 'clipping old material' that's going to be nagging at historians for centuries to come...okay, ME for the rest of my life, that better?:) But I *really* wonder what that 'fantasy' of hers WAS...<sigh>} * * * * * * * NS: <digging myself a *large* hole> MT: <sticks arm down into hole to help Nadine out> NS: <grabs Mikel's arm and pulls him into the hole with me> I've got an idea...let's just stay in this hole for a while... <vbg> <massaging you chest gently, licking your lower lip> MT: I like that idea <kissing you and running my tongue over your teeth, my hands stroking your arms> Oh, I remember reading about this - I wanna try it out: <shifts behind you, sliding you down so the back of your head rests on my abdomen, and bends down and kisses you, my tongue returning to graze the roof of your mouth, yet leave the way clear for YOUR tongue:) My hands are now massaging your breasts, lightly pinching your nipples> NS: Eeeeeewwww! That's Gross!! <pivots head to slant across your lips, my hands reaching behind to rub your thighs> Let me get this shirt off. <unbuttons shirt and places your hands inside my bra cupping my breasts; my hands sliding slowly down the back of you pants under your jockeys> MT: <muffled - you *feel* what I say more than hear it:) > Mumph - sorry. <my hands stroke your ribs, grazing the underside of your breasts for a few seconds before running up over your mammaries. The knuckles in my palm tickle your nipples and then my fingers encircle them, letting them stiffen and then ever so slightly pinching and twisting them. Meanwhile the bulge in my pants forces itself between your cheeks as you pull me closer to you by my ass. My rigidity slides up and down your crack as I rub my entire body against your back. One hand slips from your chest as the other cradles and squeezes its load. My mouth slides down your skin and my lips latch themselves onto your nipple, the engorged nub being tickled by my tongue. My pants are unfastened by my straying hand, and our three manipulators lower my chinos and slide my jockeys down to my legs. My erection, still blossoming, springs out and slides under you, between your legs.> NS: Sidenote: we're facing each other <moan> mmmm, yes. <I remove my jeans and slid my hands under your shirt massaging the muscles. The shirt comes off as my left arm encircles your neck while the other blazes a trail down your stomach to grasp the engorged member. Stroking tenderly, we lay on the ground with you kneeling between my thighs. Positioning my legs on your shoulders, I lean up and caress the unshaven cheeks of your face leaving kisses wherever my fingers have touched.> I love you, Mikel. <the words of truth fill the air as you plunge your shaft into my slick opening.> End part 5 ============= Editor's Postscript: <pant-pant> END??? WTF do you mean *END*, you TEASE; I'm all worked up now! (Just kidding, folks - I got off earlier when I read this for the first time myself. :) Anyway, this is how Dancer and I got started in writing erotica - 'cyber-sexing' each other. My first posted story was originally a 3rd-person perspective 'love letter' to her. Heh, I remember telling her about one 'vision' I had about sneaking up on her - she was using the college computer in a nice, private booth with a locking door... :)} <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. 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