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Message-ID: <30019asstr$988222203@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
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
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d




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

SUBJECT LINE:
{ASSM}"Alphabet Game: Email"{Dancer}(MF rom real)


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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 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>


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