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From: kellis <kellis@dhp.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Substitute Seed {Kellis} (MF oral)
Date: Thu, 31 May 2001 21:10:02 -0400
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Substitute Seed

a Short Story
Copyright (c) May, 2001, Kellis



"I intend to fuck you," he said calmly, loud enough to carry over
birdsong, the summer wind in the trees and distant traffic, when
she was about 20 feet away.

Her eyes widened slightly, the only immediate reaction.  Her long
steps and wide-swinging hands never faltered.  She came on
unhesitantly.

At half the distance her lip curled in a sneer.  "Is that your
best pickup line?"

This was the first time he had heard her voice.  It was
femininely high, pleasant to his ear despite the tone.

Both kept walking.  As they passed, each on the right, he turned
his head to follow her and added in the same calm manner,
"Whether you want it or not."

Her eyebrows rose.  Looking back over her shoulder she snapped,
"Then say what you mean.  You intend to rape me."

He grunted, turned his back and continued to plod down the trail,
a path through the thick stand of woods behind the school.
Others also used it for exercise, that modern replacement for
religious immortality, but not at this hour.  Five days earlier
he had begun this route, choosing suppertime precisely because of
its solitude.  For four days he had seen no one else along it
except this woman, whose schedule was apparently in striking
agreement with his own.  They had met each day, except for a
rainy one, at nearly the same spot on the trail.

She seemed to be about his own age, give or take a few years:
trim, with small breasts and wide female hips, evident despite
the jogging clothes that both wore.  She was long-legged and
nearly his own height.  His first close-up of her face had caused
him almost to miss a step.  She could easily be made beautiful
with a little makeup and professional attention for her hair,
which was always straggling from a ponytail.  Her face was oval
with a button nose and full, passionate lips that he wanted to
kiss, to plunge his tongue between, to ravage.  He could not
recall another woman who had generated such a desire in him.

On their first meeting and each subsequent one she had stared
into his eyes as they approached.  That and her movement to the
left edge of the trail were her only acknowledgments of his
existence.  After the third such silent passage he had judged her
a haughty and arrogant type, probably a Lesbian, probably
enjoying her assertion of women's right to use the trail freely
as men.

Today his opening declaration had been spur-of-the-moment.  At
least it had gotten a reaction!  Her sneer had galled him
further, prompting him to raise the stakes, but upon reflection
he was ashamed of issuing what she must regard as a serious
threat.



* * *



Yesterday's vow certainly failed to intimidate her!  At this
point the trail ran straight for over a hundred yards.  As he
turned into it he saw her do the same at the opposite end.  He
smiled briefly, pleased at her resilience, when he saw that she
was still alone.

But she walked with a different style.  A bag hung by her side,
suspended from a strap on the opposite shoulder.  One hand was in
the bag;  the other swung only slightly with each step.  She
marched resolutely toward him.

Today when they were about 20 feet apart, she spoke first.  "I
warn you:  I have a can of mace."

He strode toward her, as usual moving to the right of the trail.
"Do you have it in your hand?"

"Yes, I do!"  She closed the distance, eyes flashing.

"Good!" he declared as they drew parallel, adding over his
shoulder as they separated, "When you need it, you need it
quickly."

He walked on, wondering if she looked back, almost unable to bear
the curiosity.  Afterwards he had to chuckle.  Was she
disappointed that he gave her no excuse to use her weapon?



* * *



Twice more they met with her hand in the bag and her eyes locked
on his, but neither said another word.  On the third meeting she
had left off the bag.  Again both hands were swinging wide.

At their now customary opening distance he said, "So you found a
smaller can, did you?"

"No," she answered, closing the distance.  "I found I don't need
it."  Her sneer was again very much in evidence.

It goaded him.  As they passed, he declared as if completing a
sentence, "Right here on this trail."

Her response was only a faint gasp.  He was strongly tempted to
look back but pushed steadily on.  Again he felt a measure of
shame after a while and shook his head in astonishment at
himself.



* * *



She surprised him as they approached their next meeting.  Instead
of moving to his left, at about 20 feet of separation she moved
to his right, directly before him, and stopped.  When he moved to
the left to go around her on that side of the trail, she
sidestepped to stand in front of him again.  Necessarily he came
to a stop, eyes narrowing in inquiry.  At least she had no mace
bag.  Both hands dangled limply at her sides.  Suddenly he
noticed other differences.  She was wearing a T-shirt instead of
her customary tank top and for the first time she sported
earrings, large gold loops.  No wisp of hair had escaped her
ponytail.  Her face seemed smoother.

She took a deep breath and blushed.  "Well, here I am."

"That's clear," he retorted dryly.

"I'm defenseless."

"Do you need defending?"

"Don't you think I should?"

They stared at each other.  He took a deep breath.  "Look, this
has gone far --"

As he spoke her hands crossed in front of herself and jerked her
T-shirt off over her head to fall on a nearby bush.  Today she
wore no brassiere.  Her small but well-rounded breasts jiggled
freely when she straightened up to glare at him.  The nipples
were distinct in small areolas.  He had only a quick impression
before her hands shoved baggy shorts down to her ankles.  She
pulled one large shoe through its leg opening and stood up again.
Her belly was flawless, smoothly rounded below a dimpled navel.
Her pubic hair was trimmed but thick.

"No, it hasn't!" she declared.  Her hands balled into fists.

"It ... hasn't?"

"Hasn't gone far enough."  She took another very deep breath as
her blush deepened.  "You said you meant to rape me here in the
woods.  Well, I can't stand the suspense."

He felt heat on his own face.  "Uh, ma'am, I never used that
word."

Her eyes flashed.  "Damn you, don't you try to weasel out!  If
you won't do it to me, I'll swear you did anyway."

"Good god!"  He felt his mouth fall open.  "B-but ... what if
someone comes along?"

She sniffed.  "It's suppertime!"  She stood with hands on
well-padded hips and lifted her chin.  "You said you would fuck
me, whether I wanted it or not, right here on this path.  Do you
admit those words?"

"I guess ... I have to."  Did she have a recorder concealed on
-- huh!  Not on her person!

"Well, then, are you a man of your word or just a man of words?"

"Ah, eh, well ..."  He stood dumbfounded with sagging chin.

Staring at his expression, she chuckled and shook her head.  "At
least you're not running away."

One step put her within arm's reach.  Deftly her hands clutched
the top of his shorts on either side and pulled them, underpants
and all, down to his knees.  She dropped to her own knees in the
dust of the path.  Her hand raised the shriveled manhood to her
lips, where she sucked it into her mouth.

"Holy Christ!" he declared, staring down in disbelief at the
bobbing head.  He found his voice.  "What in the hell are you
doing?  That is, what are you up to?  Look, I didn't mean
anything by those remarks.  You're a beautiful and desirable
woman.  The first time I saw you I wanted to kiss you, to plunge
my tongue into your mouth...  My god, I can't believe what's in
it now!"

The head continued to bob back and forth, taking in the whole
growing organ.

He added, "You only stared me in the eye every time we met.  I
decided you were a haughty bitch who needed taking down a peg,
but I'm ashamed of the way ..."

His voice ran down as he felt the first stirring of pleasure.
She backed away from a straining erection, caught his hands in
hers and pulled him down upon her as she rolled back into the
dust.  He entered her with a slight difficulty, beginning with
very short strokes, holding his upper weight off her with hands
extended into the dust.  She sighed gustily when at last he sank
full length within her.  Her hands came up under his tank top,
forcing it up to his armpits, and circled around his back,
pulling herself up against his naked chest.

"You wanted to kiss me," she reminded him, staring from eyes only
inches away.

He began to thrust, long slow strokes, as they kissed.  Her hips
answered his.  She sucked in his tongue, swabbing it with her
own.  When his withdrew, hers followed into his mouth.  Saliva
overflowed from both.  Suddenly this became the most passionate
sexual encounter of his recent memory.

He lifted his head and warned, panting, "I can't hold back."

Her response was to slide hands down his back to clutch his
buttocks cheeks, then raise her knees and wrap her legs around
him also.  Clearly he would not be allowed to withdraw.  Did she
want seminal fluid to prove his guilt?  But he was already beyond
such speculation.  Groaning, aware only of the supreme pleasure
in his gut, he emptied several days' accumulation into her eager
receptacle.

Dazedly he backed off her.  Immediately she got to her feet,
stepped back into the leg of her shorts and snatched them up
around her waist.  In a jiffy the T-shirt descended over head and
torso.  She hardly looked at him before turning away, head down,
to march up the trail.

"W-wait a minute!" he called, getting to his feet and staring
after her.  "We have to talk!"

Her only response was to increase the length of her stride.
"Please wait!" he begged.

She turned her torso to regard him while continuing to walk.
"I'm leaving before you think you have to kill me to keep me
quiet."

"Kill you?  I love you!"  As he declared it, he realized it was
true.

She responded with a peal of harsh and sarcastic laughter before
facing away and continuing her retreat, one hand clutching her
groin -- or so he concluded from the way she pulled its elbow into
her side.

"Don't worry," he called ironically, "all of it won't run out!"

She ignored his sally.  He stared after her, pulling up his
shorts.  She dwindled and shortly disappeared around the distant
curve in the trail.  He shook his head, taking a deep breath.
"My god," he muttered aloud, "I guess I'm ruined."  Briefly he
felt anger at both the woman and himself.  Her claim to find the
suspense intolerable hardly made sense, considering all the
alternatives available to her.  Batty broads!  Who could
understand them?

Batty himself, he realized, if he hung around there any longer.
Her specimen of his DNA would be useless without another to match
against.  He broke into a departing run.



* * *



It rained the next two days.  He had time to think and to realize
that this woman was on his mind to stay.  On the third day he
drove to his entrance of the trail just before suppertime,
parking among other cars half a block away, and turned his
binoculars on the break in the trees.  About ten minutes after
his normal entry time he spied her, emerging at her usual fast
walk.  She looked just the same, even wearing a T-shirt as on
their last encounter instead of her more usual tank top.  She
turned up the street toward the distant traffic.  Doubtlessly she
would complete her stroll on the sidewalks, as he did, back
around to her parking place near the trail's other entrance,
except of course in the opposite direction.

She had nearly reached the street corner when he decided no one
else would follow her from the woods.  He started up and drove
around the opposite block, parking in the lot near that entrance.
No one emerged from the trees on this side, either, before she
appeared at the distant street corner and turned toward him.

He asked himself incredulously, "Didn't she squeal?"

Apparently not.  No police car waited near either entrance, and
if cops were in the woods they were playing it cagier than he
would have believed.  He contemplated ducking down and noting the
car she used, perhaps following her home, but a curious sense of
indelicacy rose in his mind at the thought.  What would he do if
he found out, stalk her?  Shaking his head, he started up and
drove away in the opposite direction.



* * *



But he had to see her again, he concluded after a nearly
sleepless night.  He plunged into the woods at the usual time on
the following day, careful to keep the same steady march that he
had always employed.  Just as he entered the straight stretch, he
was rewarded with sight of her turning into the far end of it.
They proceeded unhesitantly toward each other.

She was wearing the original tank top without jewelry.  When they
were 20 feet apart, she stopped in the middle of the trail.
"You're back!" she noted, hands crossing in front of her.  She
flung the tank top over a bush.  Today she was wearing a white
brassiere.

His approach slowed as he stared at her.  "We need to talk."

She ignored his words.  Bending, she forced shorts and panties to
her ankles, stepped out of them with both feet, twitched them
aside and lay down upon her back in the dust of the track, knees
apart and raised, pudendal area open to him, staring up at him
with hands behind her head.

Talk was obviously not on her mind.

She had sucked him erect at their previous encounter.  With an
intake of breath he sank to his knees before her and bent
forward, face between her legs.  He was not inexperienced at this
maneuver and in fact rather enjoyed it.  Soon her hips began
slightly to rock and her cool thighs closed on his ears.  At this
evidence of her arousal he attacked the clitoris itself lightly
but fast as his tongue would move.  She shuddered violently and
forced his head away.

He paused, rising up enough to see her face.  Mouth open to pant,
she stared at him hungrily, stretching her legs apart so far that
her hipbones creaked.  Quickly lowering both sets of his shorts,
he let himself down upon her.  Today her hand guided the
entrance.  Her legs and arms enclose him.  He gave her more of
his weight, hands reaching along her sides to clutch her rocking
buttocks.  They kissed as they had before with probing tongues.
Her nostrils flared.  Shortly she began to moan with each
exhalation.

Presuming that she was on the pill, no longer concerned about the
evidentiary deposit, shivering at full penetration, he
surrendered to ecstasy and filled her vagina with his
ejaculation.  She cried out, a long wail, her body tense as his
own.

They lay briefly in contact, recovering their breath, but when he
rose on his extended arms, her hands at his chest forced him
farther back.  Deftly she withdrew herself from beneath him, legs
flashing between his arms, and sprang to her feet to retrieve her
clothing.

He rose on his knees.  "Please wait!  We do have to talk."

She was pulling on her shorts.  "What is there to talk about?
You can't do it again for half an hour and I can't wait that
long."

"But ... but ...  Who are you, for god's sake?"

The tank-stop settled over her head.  "It's better that we don't
know each other," she retorted without looking at him.  Suddenly
she was marching away up the trail.

He stood up, pulling up his own pants, and stared after her.  "Do
what in half an hour?"

She called over her shoulder, "Come."

"Maybe not, but I can make you come a lot sooner."

His confident claim produced no reaction.  She continued at her
same steady pace.  He thought of running after her, of forcing
her to tell him about herself.  Force her how -- threaten to
throw her down and rape her?  If she outran him he could probably
intercept her on the street as she returned to her car, but why
bother?  She would tell him nothing so long as she wanted them to
remain intimate strangers.

He shook his head.  That was a man's attitude toward the whores
he might hire.  Presumably whores felt the same, but this was no
whore.  He sighed.  What was she in fact -- other than a
beautiful batty broad?



* * *



Of the next four weekdays one was rainy, but she met him on the
other three.  Her timing was off slightly on one.  He had to wait
in the middle of the straight section for two minutes before she
appeared.  She stifled his demand for explanation with sudden
fellatio.  Each day she wore jewelry and a T-shirt with no
brassiere.  Each encounter ended the same as the others:  a
vagina soaking in seminal fluid and no information exchanged.

A weekend intervened before their next meeting.  He used the time
to reconnoiter the woods.  When she met him on the following
Monday, he took her elbow as she lowered it from removing the
T-shirt, and led her into an almost imperceptible path at right
angles to the trail.

"What're you doing?" she demanded.

"Getting us a little more privacy," he explained in his prepared
speech.  "This is a popular place.  It's incredible that nobody
has caught us."

She gritted her teeth, pulling back.  "I don't want privacy."

"Well, I do!  Come on, now.  It's only a little further."

T-shirt in one hand, she let him pull her reluctantly into a
small, grassy clearing hardly two yards square.

"And this will be easier on your back and my knees," he added,
releasing her to disrobe himself.

Naked except for her running shoes, she lay back on the grass.
But he only stood above her in contemplation, flaccid organ
dangling.

With a snort she rolled herself impatiently forward and took him
in her mouth.  When he was fully erect, back she went with legs
spread expectantly.  He knelt between them, licked her a few
times to be sure of her readiness, then lowered himself in
penetration with arms extended to keep most of his weight off
her.  He began to thrust.

Her hips rolled to match him but she soon frowned.  "What's the
matter?"

"You won't tell me your name.  All right, I can accept that,
since I have to.  But tell me one thing.  Why do you do this?"

Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully.  At last she retorted, "Why do
you?"

"I told you:  I love you."

"Love!" she exclaimed in derision.  "You don't know anything
about me at all."

"I know the way you look, the way you sound, the way you smell
and oddly enough, the way you feel inside.  For a million years
the human race reproduced itself on no more than that."

She emitted a little snort and added, "What an interesting choice
of words!"

"It's true!  I understand my motive, even though it's so risky
that it's stupid, but what about yours?  Is it pheromones?"

"Pheromones!  That's crap."

"Then what is it?  I need to know what keeps this going.  It
didn't start with rape, you know."

"Didn't it?"  Her eyes implied secret laughter.

He took a breath and said flatly, "I need to find out if we have
any future together."

Her lip curled.  "Let me put your mind at rest.  The answer to
that is a big, emphatic, 'No!'  I'll quit coming here when this
warm weather ends, hopefully sooner."  Her eyes flashed.
"Hopefully next week!  And that will be the end for us."

He paused.  At the look on his face she sighed.  "Look, for eight
years I've been a happily married woman, socially, financially
and almost every other way.  Nothing shall be allowed to hazard
that.  And no, don't tell me whether you're married or not.  I
don't care."

"Then why ... this?"  He executed a deep thrust.

She grinned sourly.  "You may not want to know."

"But I do want to know!"

"All right.  You have blue eyes, rather wide-spaced.  You have
strawberry blond hair that's thin and straight.  You have a short
neck.  You're somewhat tall with a medium build, and your face is
strikingly familiar.  The main mismatch is your chin.  It's a
little too square."

When it was clear she had said all she wanted, he asked in
confirmation, "So I'm the kind of man you were looking for?"

"Yes."  She laughed slightly.  "And to think I almost didn't
realize it!  Now come on and do right by the woman you claim to
love."

He resumed thrusting and soon inseminated her in the usual
manner.  Other than a groan that matched his, she did not speak
another word.



* * *



It rained four days of the next week, but she went to the
clearing with him on each of the other three.  He asked no more
questions, determined to enjoy her body for so long as she would
permit it.  She was certainly having orgasms on each encounter,
sometimes two or three, though she allowed him only one.  His
confidence in her dependency grew.  As they were dressing on the
seventh day, he mentioned as much to her.

"You can't mean to give this up," he suggested jocularly as he
pulled up his shorts.

"I admit it's been heaven."  She even smiled at him.

"Well, then?

"Well, what?  You're not the only angel around, you know."

Her implication stopped him.  "I can't believe you'd find the
match for us just anywhere!"

"I already have the match," she retorted, turning away toward the
trail.

Following close behind, he could only respond weakly, "You have?"

"Oh, yes."  She giggled.  "And he's so much like you, you'd be
amazed!"

He stopped on the trail but called after her, "Will you come
tomorrow?"

She actually stopped ten feet away to look back at him.  "No.  I
won't be here tomorrow.  Not for the next week.  If I come back
at all, it will be a week from today exactly.  No.  Make that
eight days."

"But ...  What's happening?  Are you going out of town?"

"Nothing so dramatic."  Her eyes twinkled.  "Either I get my
period or I don't.  Either way I won't be here tomorrow."

He felt cold.  "What do you mean, if you don't get your period?"

"That's why it's so important that you resemble my husband!"
With a peal of laughter, she spun and for the first time ran away
from him up the trail.



END
kellis@dhp.com
Stories gratis at http://users.dhp.com/files/Authors/kellis/www

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