index


Message-ID: <30790asstr$992308204@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Scribbler" <NOSPAM_scribbler62@hotmail.com>
Reply-To: "Scribbler" <NOSPAM_scribbler62@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} The Funniest Nazi
Date: Mon, 11 Jun 2001 21:10:04 -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


Copyright 2001 by the Scribbler, who certifies for German authorities that
this fiction is not intended to promote National Socialism.

*******************************************************************

"There really was just one funny Nazi, you know"

Sleepy eyes regard me with a mixture of hangover and alarm.

"I'll give you a hint-- although he had a funny name, it wasn't Ribbentrop,
nor for that matter Goebbels . . .as a rule, the Nazis were not funny
people"

Now I should explain that, at this point, I'm just playing for time, propped
up in the Sunday morning sunshine, with that special Sunday morning mystery:
What exactly is her name?

She brushes a bit of dirty blonde hair from her face, and I appraise her
face in the daylight. I can see why I liked her, although why she liked me
is beyond comprehension, at this point anyway. She's pretty enough, in a
Connecticut sort of way, and now I'm placing her. . .gallery opening, nice
comments about my writing. . .cup of coffee someplace loud and smoky where I
slid my hand down to her crotch. . .

No that wasn't it, not exactly. . .

I was going on about something --well, when don't I go on about something,
actually-- Fernand Braudel and the Annales guys. I was explaining to her
some of my quarrel with the "micro" school of history. . .the need to
capture something grander of the sweep of human experience than is revealed
in Catalan land tenure documents.

And she leans over and whispers in my ear: "Put your hand in me, now"

I'm remembering this with a start, while regarding Mademoiselle X's sleepy
face. This sheeted suburbanite was something of a first for me, a hot little
body charged with sexuality which through some developmental defect was
happily misdirected at balding professors of intellectual history.

I did put my hand up her leg, there in that little zinc and tobacco filled
boite. I really like doing that by the way, but it seems to be hard to come
by. Male sexual excitement is kind of ordinary . . .I'm really used to
getting hard; but that's really all there is: was soft, now is hard . . .OK,
I'll have to say that I'm my own penis's number one fan, but even so, he's a
one trick pony.

Now, women are really something else, and Miss X was special among them.
Eyes get shiny, a flush rises up her throat, and her petite chatte is
dripping; she is wetting herself with her own excitement. Now, really this
is a wonderful thing. . .I can't tell you how insane this makes me. .
.happily divorced after ten years of a mostly sexless marriage, where
intercourse required ample preparation with slippery and sterile unguents,
I'll say that I prefer the genuine article. . .a women dripping heat into
her panties.

So I ran my hand up her stocking'd leg. . .itself a wonderfully pornographic
turn-on; so pleased to discover whorish lingerie under an Anne Klein
ensemble. Wandered up the contours. . .so thin! Women's legs can be amazing,
thin little stilts on which to balance cupcake buttocks. . .Evolution,
you've done a hell of a job here.

I'm suppressing the urge to smell my hand, because I know where it spent
some quality time last night, first one, then two, then three fingers,
plowing what I would have [unfairly] assumed to be a tight little slit.
That's just the way we are I guess. . .I look at a blonde ponytail, and
imagine that we're talking significant gynecologic preparation before we're
going to gain admission for anything thicker than a fountain pen. Its the
Puertoricquenas, with pants pulled tight over rolling hips, thick eyebrows,
and lips painted fire-engine red. . .all the signs would say that they're
the ones who like to fuck, who'd have capacious pudenda.

Turns out not to be the case. . .our tennis player (I don't know that she
actually plays tennis, that's just an unfair assumption because of her
looks. . .I'm all about unfair assumptions), arouses with the heat of a
Moroccan whore. No sooner do I have one finger playing with her, sliding
aside the mushy lace of her panties and worming its way into her, than she
whispering in my ear "more fingers, now".

Its all coming back to me. . .my own dawning shame at public sex, and my
growing erection, which mundane as it may be, was definitely in need of
attention.

She whispered in my ear: "Lean forward"

Then this little angel reached under the table, and let her French manicured
fingers unzip me. ..I remember the panic. . .what if? What if what, exactly?
It was an extraordinary thing to be masturbated by a pretty young nymph
under a little zinc table in the Soho night. I couldn't help thinking "does
this happen often?" Is that guy over there, the one sitting with the
Brazilian model-does he ever get whacked off under the table? Because it is
a glorious experience.

Miss X. . .oh, gosh, I remember her name, Melissa. . .Melissa was doing me
hard and then she says, not too quietly "tell me when you're going to cum"

And, goggle-eyed, I say "that would be right about now"

And with that she squeezes hard, sending a cock-wilting spasm of pain
through my member and balls. I remember the innocent look in her Connecticut
eyes . . .where'd this come from? Why?

"Save it, stud; take me home and fuck me"

I'm savoring the memory of that little coital bliss, and she turns to me,
raising herself on one elbow from the bed. She scrunches up her forehead in
thought, then smiles. . .

"Oh I know this one. . .", she gives a little dirty smile, pink tongue
peeping out between pink lips.

"When I hear the word culture, I reach for my gun'"

I'm stunned.

She smiles. . ."That was Hermann Goering. . .he really was a funny man."

I'm in love.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> |
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html>  Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository |
|<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations.         |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+