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From: jimmy@jimmy-hat.com (Jimmy Hat)
Subject: {ASSM} Glows in the Dark 3/3 (MF rom toys)  
Date: Sun, 10 Jun 2001 23:10:06 -0400
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THREE 

Neil answered the door, wearing a pair of pleated pants and a
chambray shirt. He smiled and invited Stanton inside. 

"You shaved," she said. 

He ran a hand over his chin. "You were unannounced this
afternoon. I try to look better for my invited guests." 

"You're doing a good job," Stanton said. "Did you shave the dog,
too? I might like to see that." 

"Newsie is outside, and he's just as shaggy as ever." 

"Newsie?" 

"Oh, yeah. As in 'newshound', get it? Bad joke, I know." 

"No, it's kind of cute," Stanton replied. "So is he. So are you."
She moved closer to him. 

"I could say the same thing about you," Neil said. 

"Then why don't you?" 

Neil leaned in next to Stanton's ear. She felt his breath on her
neck. He whispered, "Because our dinner will catch fire if I
don't get back to the kitchen." 

Neil moved away with a grin on his face. Stanton followed him
into through the house, admiring how his ass moved as he walked.
On entering the kitchen, the smell of cooking food flooded
Stanton's nostrils. 

"Oh, that smells delicious," she said. "What's for dinner?" 

Neil attended to a couple of pots on the stove, and then handed
Stanton a glass of white wine. "I have prepared a grilled mix of
eggplant, zucchini, and red bell pepper from the garden, new
potatoes from the root cellar with fresh parsley, and braised
duck with a coulis made from the blackberries I picked today." 

"Mmm," Stanton said as she sipped her wine. "That sounds
wonderful. Did you shoot down the duck with your own bow and
arrow?" 

"Ha! If I were a more insecure man, I would think you were
insulting me there." 

"If you were a more insecure man, I wouldn't be here." 

"No, Heather, I imagine you wouldn't. You don't mind my calling
you Heather, do you?" 

"Not at all. We can't go around calling each other Mr. Farrier
and Agent Stanton all night, can we?" 

"I guess not," Neil said. They clinked wine glasses and enjoyed
another sip of wine. 

They ate in a small dining room, by candle light. Throughout
dinner, they managed to call each other Neil and Heather with no
complications. Stanton told stories of other examples of her
partner's thoroughness, and Neil countered with anecdotes from
his Steeple Times journalism career. The conversation moved back
and forth easily, and complemented the meal as well as the wine
did. 

"Dinner was wonderful, Neil," Stanton said. "Thank you for
inviting me." 

"Thank you for accepting. But we're not done yet. Dessert awaits,
and I promised to show you the local sights." Neil stood and
cleared the plates from the table. He brought them to the kitchen
and returned with a small picnic basket. "Shall we?" 

"Where are we going?" 

"To see the sights. Don't worry, we're not going far." 

Neil led them back through the kitchen and outside. The sheepdog
sauntered over to them, wagging his tail. 

"Hey, Newsie," Stanton said, scratching him behind the ears. 

"Sit, Newsie, sit. Good dog." Neil pulled a small package from
the basket and dropped it on the floor. "Duck leftovers," he told
Stanton. "Now, stay, Newsie, stay. We'll be back." 

Neil reached into the basket and removed a flashlight. "We have
some moonlight, but I brought this just to be sure." 

"You really come prepared," Stanton said. "What else do you have
in that basket?" 

"Nothing special," Neil responded. "C'mon, give me your hand." 

Neil led the way through the woods. Each almost tripped a couple
of times, and they laughed among the trees as they walked. 

"How far are we going?" 

"Not much farther!" 

"Do I hear water running?" Stanton asked. 

"Yes, you do. There's a creek right up ahead." 

The chattering of the running water grew louder as they walked.
They reached a clearing, and Stanton could see moonlight
reflected in the creek. Neil pointed to a flat slab of rock.
"Have a seat." 

Stanton settled on to the rock, and Neil sat next to her. He
removed two small bowls from the basket, covered in plastic wrap.
He removed the wrap and handed Stanton a bowl and a spoon.
"Chocolate mousse," he said. 

"Ooh, if I had known that I could have walked twice as far."
Stanton took a spoonful. It was thick, but creamy, and
delightfully sweet. They both inhaled the dessert, leaving small
glass bowls with trace markings of mousse. "Oh, Neil, that was
fabulous. And it's pretty here." 

"I'm glad you liked it. This may be my favorite spot in the
world. Thirsty?" 

"Yes," Stanton said. "You have something else in the basket?" 

"Not really." 

Neil moved off the rock and felt along the ground. He picked up a
taut white length of string. He pulled up on it and followed it
to the water. There he lifted a bottle and returned to the rock
with it. "Champagne," he announced. "Chilled by the creek." 

"You really are prepared," Stanton said. "And presumptuous, I
might add. What made you think I would follow you out into the
woods?" 

"They give FBI agents guns, right?" Neil popped the cork on the
champagne bottle. 

"Yes, they do. But they don't issue champagne glasses. You have
any in there, too?" 

"No. Use the bowl. Be a little decadent." 

They drank chilled champagne that tasted suspiciously of
chocolate, and giggled when the bubbles exploded from the wide
surface and attacked their noses. 

"C'mere," Stanton said. "I feel like being a little decadent."
That first kiss, under the moon, by the gurgling stream, tasted
sweeter than dessert and went to her head faster than any wine.
She had a handful of his soft curls and her lips locked onto his.
He moved slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, but it
only made her more insistent. 

His hands moved along her back, then along her sides. As they
kissed and their tongues brushed lightly against each other,
their hands moved to explore and to embrace. Neil cupped her
breasts and gave them a gentle squeeze, and he circled his
fingers around her hardening nipples. Stanton felt the muscles in
his back, muscles that she knew gathered pails of fruit, and she
guessed chopped cords of wood. 

Stanton pushed him onto his back. She rolled on top of him and
straddled him with her knees midway between his hips and armpits.
Neil put his hands on her waist. His thumbs rested just above her
hip bone, and his fingers nestled into the valley of her lower
back. "Damn, you feel good," he said. 

"You feel pretty good, too," she countered. She moved her fingers
over his chest, raised mounds of smooth muscle over the ridges of
his rib cage. She began to unbutton his shirt to see with her
eyes what felt so good to her hands. She leaned in to kiss him
again, and his hands slipped easily onto her ass. 

As they kissed, Neil ran his hands in large circles on her ass.
He gave her cheeks a squeeze, and then a slap. He drew his lips
away from hers. "What's the chances of me taking these off and
getting a better grip on this fantastic ass?" 

"Why don't you try doing it instead of talking about it?" 

"Is it that simple?" Neil asked, slipping a hand in the waist
band of her pants. 

"Mm-hmm," Stanton purred. She swept her legs over his thighs and
brought them together. While Neil worked her pants over her hips,
she kicked off her shoes. Neil's thumbs hooked over her panties
as well, and he had her ass exposed. Pushing the pants down, his
elbows and forearms rested warm and furry on her thighs. 

When Neil reached her knees and could no longer move the clothing
off her legs, Stanton lifted her calves. He slipped the pants up
over her smooth lower leg, and past the smooth delicate plane of
her ankles. He dropped the garments on the rocks and used his
free hands to lightly stroke her toes, feet, and calves. 

The night air tickled her, too. Invisible fingers brushed her
rump, her thighs, and the backs of knees. It sent a shiver along
her spine. She twisted in response and brushed her hip against
Neil's body, rolling along the stiff dong in his pants. "Is that
for me?" she cooed. 

Neil slapped a palm against her bare ass. "I was just going to
ask you that about this?" 

"You ask too many questions," Stanton said. "I think we might
have to do something about that." 

"Like what?" Neil asked. 

"Like this," she replied. Pushing against the rock with her palm,
Stanton thrust her body forward. The soft curls of his chest
grazed the bottom of her ass as she moved her pelvis to Neil's
face. 

"I see!" he exclaimed. 

"What do you see?" 

"Looks like you shaved, too." 

"I try to look better for my invited guests." 

There was a narrow tuft of dark hair above her slit. Neil moved
his nose through the curls and took in her smell. He moved his
mouth down to her pussy. The soft surrounding flesh was as dry
and puffy as a marshmallow, but the seam itself was wet and
sticky, like a ripe fruit. Neil licked tenderly, sliding his
tongue along her lips. He took two handfuls of her ass, and used
the tips of his fingers to probe at her crease from the backside. 

Stanton probed as well. She thrust her hand into Neil's trousers
and took hold of his tumescence. She gave it a squeeze with her
palm, and the length of hard flesh replied by jumping in her
hand. Neil moaned his approval, and as he did so, his tongue
vibrated against her sensitive lips. 

The more Neil licked at her seam, the less Stanton was able to
lean back and twist her wrist to stroke his cock. With the
pleasure growing, she decided to abandon the effort and
concentrate on herself. She brought both hands forward and ran
them through the lush curls of Neil's head. She raked his hair,
took hold of his head and pushed her twat flush against his
mouth. Neil increased the pace and depth of his tonguing. 

"Right there!" Stanton groaned. Neil focused his efforts where he
was, moving his lips and mouth in concert with his tongue,
swirling in ever tighter circles. He reached up and fondled her
breast. Stanton grabbed his hand and raised it to her mouth. She
wrapped her lips around two fingers and sucked them deep into her
mouth. 

Again Neil moaned, and again the vibration added to the warm
anguish of the cunt licking. He cupped her ass with his free hand
and used his arm to roll her up and onto his spastic tongue. 

Stanton's body succumbed to the relentless pressure. Her fingers
clenched Neil's scalp like talons while her thighs clamped onto
the front of his face. Neil pulled his fingers from her mouth so
that at least one of them could breathe. When her orgasm ebbed,
Stanton shimmied her ass down Neil's chest and brought her mouth
down to his to give him a kiss almost as wet as her pussy had
been. 

Neil hurried to slip his pants down his thighs. He gripped his
equipment and pointed the shaft up in the air. Stanton took it
from him and lowered her slick cunt onto it. She sat down on his
cock and moaned for the entire forest to hear. 

"Goddamn, Heather!" 

"Oh, Neil," she said. Stanton started to rock with his prick
buried inside her. Then she lifted herself off him and slammed
her bottom back down again. She pounded him like that without
pause. Even as she felt him shoot his load inside her, she kept
at it. She didn't exactly come again: maybe the initial orgasm
had never really ended. The only reason she stopped was that she
ran out of breath. She collapsed against Neil's chest and draped
her long dark hair over his face. 

Neil brushed her silky hair out of his face and struggled to
uncross his eyes. His balls were sore from Stanton's ride. "Oh,
Heather, you are unbelievable." 

"Mmm," was all she replied. 

They reclined like that for a short while, until they felt Neil's
cream start to flow back onto his body. Stanton pushed herself
off and gave him another kiss. 

"You can clean up in the creek," he said. 

"No, thank you!" Stanton laughed. "I drank the champagne,
remember? That water is cold! I'll just use your shirt." Stanton
picked up the shirt and wiped herself with it. 

"My shirt?" Neil protested weakly. 

"Well, you live right here. Not ashamed to walk around with that
sexy chest of yours, are you?" 

"You know how to hurt a guy," he said. 

"And you know how to treat a woman. This was great." 

"But there's more!" 

Stanton laughed again. "I admire your endurance, Neil. But I have
to get back." 

"Not that," Neil said. "Not that I wouldn't want to. Just hold on
for a second." Neil jumped off the rock, pulled up his pants and
frantically searched the ground. 

"Lose something?" 

"Just sit tight, Heather," he said. "Aha!" He held a long stick
in the air. "I love this spot, and not just because of the creek.
Behold!" Neil strode to a line of bushes that bordered the
clearing. He reached the end and pushed the stick into the
leaves. Then he ran, dragging the stick behind him, through the
bushes. Hundreds of tiny yellow lights appeared in the bushes,
and filled the air with chaotic blinking. The light spread behind
Neil like the tail of comet and spread out in to a whirling,
expanding cloud of flickering yellow points of light. 

Neil finished his sprint by running up to Stanton. "Photinus
pyralis," he announced. "Better known as the firefly." 

"Oh, Neil, that's beautiful," Stanton said. 

"Like it?" 

"I love it." 

Neil smiled and watched her watching the flickering fireflies.
"So what do you say we stay a little longer?" 

Stanton looked over to him and smiled. "You really do ask too
many questions," she said before kissing him. 

EPILOGUE 

"I want to thank you again for the help, Neil," Maytag said. "I'm
glad we straightened this out." 

"My pleasure," Neil answered. "I should thank you, really. I'm
gonna get a nice article out of this, and I get to make fun of
newspaper management while I do it. 'The Day the FBI came to
Steeple.' Should be a good one." 

"As long as you write nice things about us," Stanton said. 

"Don't worry," Neil replied. "You'll get a glowing review." 

END 
----------------------------------------------------------------------

I hope you enjoyed that, and I'd love to hear your comments.
There is an anonymous e-mail form (and more stories) at 
http://www.jimmy-hat.com , or you can mail me 
directly at jimmy@jimmy-hat.com

Anyone wishing to charge fees for access to this material, 
through any media or publication, must receive the written
permission of Jimmy Hat.

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