Message-ID: <31944asstr$997485001@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: <anoninsac@yahoo.com> X-Original-Message-ID: <20010810173137.48730.qmail@web14304.mail.yahoo.com> From: Anon Sacto <anoninsac@yahoo.com> MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Subject: {ASSM} The Bargain {Anoninsac} (MF) Date: Fri, 10 Aug 2001 19:10:01 -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/Year2001/31944> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, kelly Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. Author Anoninsac. Non-commercial re-posts to ASSM or similar venues are allowed provided copyright information remains on the re-posted story. Please do not delete the copyright information. No commercial reprints are authorized. The author appreciates constructive criticism at anoninsac@nospam.yahoo.com, remove the nospam for e-mail address. If you read this story please let me know what you think. Feedback is the only 'pay' ASSM authors receive. WARNINGS: This story depicts consensual sexual activity between men and women. No testing on animals was involved in the production of this story. Some of the participants in the story may be under the age of 18. If you live in a backward society, like the United States or Afghanistan, in which it is illegal for you to know about sex or read sexual materials immediately delete this from your computer and scourge yourself with a whip for having any sexual thoughts. If you are under the age of 18 please continue to pretend you don't know about sex and continue to get each other pregnant in increasing numbers so that we have more young single mothers raising children. Don't learn about safe sex or contraception as these are tools of the devil. Please do not masturbate while reading this story in public places as this can excite the authorities into rash conduct and result in grave consequences for you. The Bargain We are never deceived; we deceive ourselves. - Goethe He soared toward the bucket, arm outstretched, sweat flying, a forest of arms reaching up to thwart his flight. At the apex his hand slammed down blasting the ball through the hoop. The stands erupted as he fell into the pads on the upright. As he ran back toward his own basket, Coach was screaming, "We're still down three. Stop 'em. We gotta have a stop. Match up zone. Match up zone." The noise in the arena was deafening. The De La Salle players were coming up the floor waiting for the clock to run down. They moved the ball around the perimeter of the defense and as the clock ran down a De La Salle player threw up an eighteen foot jumper that drew nothing but net. He took the inbound pass and raced up the court, jumped at the three-point line draining the shot. He looked at the scoreboard. Down two and three seconds left. His teammates were trying to seal off the inbounds pass. A De La Salle player broke free, took the inbounds pass and raced up the court. 2, 1, the buzzer sounded. He had to watch as the De La Salle players poured onto the court celebrating their NorCal championship. He couldn't believe it. Coach came up to him, "I'm proud of this team and proud of you." "But Coach. We lost." "We were picked to finish fifth in league. You took this team on your back and we rode you all the way to the championship game. We lost to De La Salle by two points. That's a great season. I'm proud because you gave it 100 percent all season, every game. They won, but they didn't beat us." Coach grabbed his head in a gesture of affection. The first he'd every shown. The De La Salle players were coming over to shake hands and he congratulated them. What should have been crushing disappointment was tempered by the words from Coach. He looked around the arena. It was a hell of a season. Who would have thought one year ago that he would be playing in a championship game? He had played basketball like it was his religion from the time he was eight. He spent hours every day shooting, dribbling, passing, defending. By the time he hit high school he was the star on his team. He could shot the lights out but was too small to be an elite player. Fresno State sent a scout but that was it. At the end of his junior year he started a growth spurt. By the time his senior year started he was 6'6 tall, thin and gangly. In the months leading up to basketball season he filled out and got used to his body. When the season started he quickly became a force. He was scoring twenty-five a game and pulling down ten boards. Teams started double teaming and then triple teaming him. That left his teammates wide open. He had the knack of finding them with a bullet pass. They won league and then raced through the playoffs until they met De La Salle. He scored thirty-two and pulled down twelve boards against the best high school team in the country. College teams noticed. In the next two weeks scholarship offers came from dozens of colleges. He narrowed his choices down to Stanford and Washington. Stanford was his first choice. He'd be two hours from home and if he blew out a knee he'd still have a Stanford degree. That alone would open doors. Stanford invited him for a visit. He arrived on a Friday night. He had dinner with Coach Montgomery and several players. These were the guys he watched on TV playing in March Madness. They treated him like one of them. He started to imagine himself in cardinal and gold. He stayed in the athletic dorm that night. The next morning he had breakfast with the players. After breakfast, he was introduced to a campus hostess. She was going to show him around the Stanford campus. Blond, blue eyed and with a killer body she looked like she had stepped right out of a magazine. He was intimidated. He was love struck. He was dumbfounded that this heavenly creature was smiling just for him. The day was a whirlwind. He knew he was staring. He was unable to stop himself. Images from the day were frozen in time in his mind. The way her hair shone in the sun and cascaded across her shoulders in the Rodin Garden. The way her breasts moved under sweater at lunch. The way her tight pants outlined her thighs walking across the Quad. The way those pants hugged her ass as it bounced with the rhythm of her walk as he followed her up the stairs. The way those pants outlined her pudenda as she stood and pointed at the Science Building. He was in love with those pants. He needed to be alone with those pants, to hold them up to his face, to smell them as he masturbated. It was difficult to walk with his hands in his pockets trying to camouflage the tent in his pants. She didn't notice when he had to bend over as he stood up from the chair to hide his erection or turn quickly away to hide his bulge after she touched his arm. He was dazzled by that smile and didn't notice the mirth in her eyes. She took him to dinner at the Student Union. He was so nervous he could hardly eat. He was afraid to put food in his mouth because she might ask him a question and he wanted to be able to answer. "Aren't you hungry?" she finally asked. "Uh no. I mean, yeah I'm a little hungry." His mind screamed, IDIOT! "What?" she asked puzzled. "Well, I'm a little hungry but, you know, the whole day has been something and, you know, I'm not real hungry." He looked at her with a pleading expression that begged to be excused from the inquisition. "Oh." She went back to eating her dinner. "For me this is great having the department pick up the tab. I mean, how many free dinners do I get?" "God. You must get lots of guys who want to take you out." She smiled. "I think that's a compliment." She reached over and patted his arm. He blushed. "Not as many as you think. There's lots of girls on campus." "But you're beautiful." "Quit it," she said. "You're going to turn my head." He looked down at his plate. After dinner she walked him back to the dorm. "Would you mind if I came up?" she asked. "Uh no. Yeah, sure." He fumbled out his answer. His room was on the fourth floor. As he entered he flipped on the fluorescent lights. "Oh, that's so bright," she said. "Isn't there a smaller light?" "Uh yeah. Over here." He crossed and turned on the reading light over the desk. She turned off the overhead light and closed the door behind her. "That's better." She smiled that dazzling smile at him. She walked over to the window. The lights of Menlo Park were starting to glitter in the dusk. "Isn't that pretty?" she asked. "Yeah." He stood frozen. He was alone with this creature. Alone in a college dorm room. He'd heard all the stories about college dorms. He never really believed them. But there she was. What should he do? What should he say? My God! She had to be at least twenty-one. He had a few girlfriends in school, but there were just girls. She was a woman. Unapproachable. Untouchable. "Why don't you turn out that light so we can see the lights of the city?" His fingers wouldn't work as he fumbled to turn off the light. Finally, it clicked off. He could see her outlined against the dim light from the window. "Come over here so you can see," she invited. He walked over to the window and looked out. He had no idea what he was looking at. "Yeah. Looks nice." "It's so romantic. Don't you think so?" she asked half turning toward him. Still looking out the window he answered, "Yeah." His mind whirled trying to think of a response. Romantic? I should say something romantic. But what? A hand touched his. At first he thought it an accident but the hand stayed on his. Slowly, so as not to frighten the hand away, he turned his wrist so that his palm touched hers. He let his fingers curl until they began to intertwine with hers. Her fingers interlaced with his and pressed into his hand. He felt his pulse race. Damn. He was holding hands with her. He was glad the lights were down because his cock had risen again. It was bent painfully in his pants. He couldn't move to a more comfortable position. She might notice and that would be beyond bearing. "You're really a nice guy." "You're really nice too. I mean, showing me everything today. I know you were supposed too and all. But you were just nice." "Do you like me?" she asked. His breath caught in his throat. He had to swallow the lump before answering in a strained whisper, "Yes." "That's good because I like you," she said with a slight husk to her voice. This time she wasn't smiling. The smile was replaced by a look of hunger. He saw that hunger and was petrified. Not petrified of the hunger but petrified of what he knew it signified. Sexual hunger. He wanted to be consumed by that hunger. But he knew he wouldn't be able to satisfy this goddess standing next to him. A few fumblings in the back seat of cars. A couple times his girlfriend allowed him to take her top off and put his hand down her pants. And one glorious time when he 'went all the way' with a cheerleader who was so drunk she nearly passed out half way through. He was frozen his voice lost and his body unable to move. She reached up and put her hand on his cheek. It burned like fire and yet felt cool as ice on his skin. She pulled his face down, down, down while she turned her face up. Their lips touched. He let his lips mold to hers. He found himself lost in the kiss. Nothing else existed at that moment but her lips touching his. It started as a soft kiss. Then her lips began to move against his. She began to devour his lips with hers. Then he felt soft bites and finally her lips parted pulling his apart. He felt her tongue rubbing against his lips as she pushed it into his mouth. Her tongue started to dance in his mouth spearing deep and then pulling back. He awoke from his trance and chased her tongue with his. She retreated and he followed. She bit down lightly on his tongue and still he pursued her. Their tongues danced, intertwined and then separated. His free hand went around her and pulled her toward him as he turned toward her. Their bodies came together. Her breasts pressed into his chest. His cock, at full staff, pushed into her belly. She moaned when she felt his hardness press against her. She released his hand and her hands seized his ass and pulled him tighter to her body. Their tongues continued their dance of lust. His hands roamed across her back. He loved the feel of her through the sweater. Her body was under that sweater and he could feel it give slightly under his hands. It was warm and alive and real. So much more exciting than the girls he looked at on the Internet before retiring to the bathroom. He was happy to be touching her, kissing her, feeling her. She broke the kiss. He felt a moment of fear. Had he done something wrong? Had he gone too far somehow? He looked longingly at her. "Can I take off your shirt?" she asked. He shook his head yes. She started to unbutton his shirt. He watched her fingers unbutton one, then two and finally all the buttons. She tugged the shirttail out and pushed the shirt off his shoulders. She ran her hand over his chest and rubbed the sparse chest hair. "Would you like to take off my sweater?" He nodded again. She waited a few seconds while he looked at her. She reached out and took his hands and brought them to the bottom of her sweater. His mind panicked as he realized he was going to blowing it. My God! I gotta do something. He started to tug the sweater up then controlled himself and pulled the sweater up gently. She raised her arms as the sweater reached her breasts. He watched as they came into view. He saw skin as her breasts were uncovered. His eyes were riveted to her chest as more and more of her breasts were exposed. The areolas then the nipples, she isn't wearing a bra his mind shrieked, came into view. Her face disappeared into the sweater as he hurried to lift it off. It caught on her chin and she helped lift it off. She took it from him and threw the sweater onto a chair. His eyes were glued to her breasts. She kicked off her sandals and his eyes followed them as they slid toward the window. He looked back at her questioningly. She smiled. "Why don't you take off your shoes too?" He hurried to pull off his Nike's. She reached for the zipper on her pants. Those pants, the lovely pants he had watched all day. He watched as the zipper slid down exposing her lacy panties. "Why don't you take yours off?" she suggested. His heart racing he reached for his zipper and yanked it down. She put her thumbs at her waist and pushed her pants and panties down. He pushed his pants down bending at the waist to get them off. As he straightened he saw her wiggling out of her pants. He saw her bush was trimmed into a neat vee. He kicked off his pants as she finished removing her pants. His cock stood out pointing at her, proclaiming her responsible for its condition. She took it in her hand and led him over the bed. She gently pushed his chest so that he sat on the bed. Kneeling between his legs she wrapped her hands around his rigid pole and started to slowly pump. He trembled from the sensations. His eyes closed and the entire day's erotic tension reached a peak. He felt the contractions in his balls. The first contraction sent his cum flying. "Shit," she muttered as the first glob of cum landed on her tit. Then another bigger blast landed on her chest and a third hit her belly. Another glob landed on the floor and the last few spasms ended up on the bed. His eyes flew open. "Oh Christ. I'm sorry." "Sorry? Why?" she asked wiping her hand on a towel that was lying on the dresser next to the bed. "I came so quick," he answered looking panic stricken. "You were just turned on right? I mean, I assume you were turned on by me." She continued wiping the cum off her tit and chest. "Oh yeah." "So I made you do that?" She threw the towel on the floor. "Yeah," he answered now with a question in his voice. She looked into his face with that look of hunger again, "So I turned you on so much that you came fast. That must mean you really liked me." "Oh yeah. I been turned on all day." "See," she said. "That means you really must like me. Can you get it up again?" He shook his head yes. She looked at his cock and saw that it was starting to bounce in rhythm to his heart beat again. She wrapped her hand around his cock and stroked her hand up and down. It had partially shrunk but now reversed course and was swelling again. He closed his eyes as she pumped him. In a few seconds he was hard again. She released his cock and his eyes flew open. "What...?" She stood. "I'm going to get something." She walked over to her purse, opened it and returned with a foil wrapper. She knelt between his legs again, pulled open the packet and produced a Trojan. That's appropriate, she thought, a Trojan for a Stanford fuck. She put it over his glans and unrolled it down his cock. He watched unable to say anything as the thought rolled through his mind. I'm going to get laid. "Why don't you let me lay down?" He jumped out of the bed and watched as she lay down on the bed. She bent her legs at the knees and then let them fall apart. In the dim light he could make out her bush and the folds of her pussy. It was so like the pictures on the Internet that he looked at every night. He felt some confidence as he thought to himself, just like the stories. I just need to do it like they do in the stories. "Come here." He moved over her lining up his body with hers while holding himself up with his arms. "Kiss me." He lowered his face until their lips touched. The kiss melted into a more passionate kiss as her lips parted and their tongues began a mating dance in each other's mouth. Caught up in the passion he let his body relax until his chest touched her tits and his belly met hers. His cock lay on her pussy and was rubbing against her clit. She ground her hips against him and felt herself begin to get wet from rubbing her clit against his cock. When she was sufficiently lubricated she broke the kiss and said, "Fuck me." He moved his hips until his cock was free of her body and lanced forward. His cock jammed itself her into the top of her pussy. "Uff," she grunted. "Stop." He pulled back. She reached down trying to get her hand between them. "Lift up." He did and she snaked her hand between grabbing his cock. "Ok, now." He jabbed forward again and missed to the right. 'Shit,' he thought to himself, 'this is harder than making a three pointer.' "Slowly lover. Let me guide you." This time he pushed forward slowly as she seated the head of his cock at the entrance to her vagina. He started to push forward again. The unlubricated rubber pulled at her labia. "Just a second." She rubbed his cock around her opening and over her clit masturbating herself with his cock until she had spread her wetness and the head of his cock was wet. Seated once again in her opening she said, "Now slowly lover." He pushed forward and felt his cock sink into her body. He continued until his body rested on hers. He paused lost in the incredible feelings. He was fucking a beautiful woman. He started pumping his cock. The feeling was overwhelming and he sped up until he was jabbing her like a crazed rabbit. She grabbed his ass and pulled down. "Slower baby. Slower." "Uh ok." He concentrated on pumping slower. Within seconds the rhythm of his dance of lust began to accelerate and soon he was whipping his cock into her again. His balls tightened in the familiar pre-cum feelings. He lost himself in the feelings. Then his orgasm burst upon him. His balls contracted and fired his cum as he lost fine motor control. He was shuddering instead of stroking as his balls emptied their load into the rubber. He was drained of all energy. He fell against her. She lay under him. "You're heavy." "Sorry." He lifted himself up and his cock plopped out of her. He sat back against the wall. She sat up and got off the bed. She grabbed the towel and cleaned herself. She looked over at him still brain drained on the bed. "That was wonderful," she said. "God. I never felt like that before." She smiled, "I'm glad sweetie." He looked down at his cock and the rubber. "What do I do with this?" She looked puzzled for a second and then with a hint of exasperation, "Throw it away." He looked around the room. She reached into her purse and took out some Kleenex. "Wrap it in this and throw it in the trash." She turned her back as he struggled to remove the Trojan and throw it in the trash. She started to dress. "Are you going?" he asked. "Yeah. I have to go. I have a lot of homework to do before tomorrow. I hope you come here in the fall. If you play here maybe we can get together again. Would you like that?" "Really? You mean we could get together?" he asked rising from the bed. He fidgeted unsure whether he should kiss her, open the door or what. "Sure. I had fun today. They said something about a letter of intent. Do you have to do something?" "Yeah. I have to sign it to come here," he said. "I hope you do. I'd like to see you again," as she put her sweater back on and slipped into her shoes. She straightened out her clothes, picked up her purse and walked over to him. She kissed him and said, "Thank you. You were wonderful." She smiled one last time just for him. She turned for the door. "I'll see you next year," he said as she opened the door. She paused, looked back and blew him a kiss. "I'm looking forward to it," and shut the door behind. He watched the door for a while and then turned and fell into the bed. She walked across campus to the parking lot. He's not a bad kid she thought. Terrible lover. What a project he'd be to turn into a good lover. He lay in the bed thinking about the day. He had laid a real woman. Not one of the imaginary women he thought about as he jerked off every night. A real flesh and blood woman. And next year, if he came to Stanford he might be able to make love to her every night instead of jacking off. He was supposed to tour the athletic facilities tomorrow, the gym, weight room things like that. His mind returned to her. He knew his decision was made. He was already formulating his arguments. Coach Montgomery taught great fundamentals. Stanford was a great university. She floated through his mind. He'd have a top quality education. He saw her face. He'd be playing in the Pac 10 and against the best players. He'd be close to home. He saw her breasts. Stanford was the best choice for basketball and education. Once in her car she grabbed her cell phone from the glove compartment and dialed. Across campus the director of recruiting picked up her phone, "Hello?" "Hi. It's me." "Oh hi. How'd it go?" "Fine. He's a nice kid. I took him up to his room and..." "I don't need to know that. All I need to know, is he going to sign the letter of intent." Bitch, she thought to herself. "I guarantee it. He's coming to Stanford." "That's great. Coach really liked this kid. I'll wait to tell him until after I talk to the kid tomorrow. I'm supposed to have a final talk with the kid before he goes home." She sounded gleeful. "And me?" she asked. "Oh yeah. I'll call the registrar Monday. I'm sure your scholarship will be approved." "Thanks. I really need that scholarship." "Glad we could help each other." "Yeah. Goodbye." Punching the off button she sat looking at her phone. Bitch! She threw the phone down on the seat. I need a shower she thought as she noticed her sweater sticking to her chest. She slammed the car into gear and squealed the tires as she tore from the parking lot and into the night. __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Make international calls for as low as $.04/minute with Yahoo! 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