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Message-ID: <33730asstr$1006992605@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Kenny Gamura" <turtlemeat69@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Beggars Can't Be... Part 5 Reformated {Gamera} (MF rom)
Date: Wed, 28 Nov 2001 19:10:05 -0500
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                         Disclaimer

This is piece of fiction.  Any imagined resemblance to
people living or deceased is either the result of dementia
on the reader's part or that the reader is, in fact, a
character of this story.   It is assumed that readers of
this story have the permission of the state, mom, dad, and
pastor and are able to tell the difference between real and
make-believe.  Furthermore, the writer is fully aware that
he is bound for hell, but welcomes both praise or/and well
thought out, humourous insults on his writing skill.  Note:
he already knows he cannot spell 'warth shet'.

The events and descriptions of this story are the sole
property of Kenny N Gamera and should not be recorded,
reposted, or profited from in anyway without express written
permission of the person hiding behind that pen name.
Reposting and free archiving will be tolerated given the
writer's name and address remains attached.  Archiving by
Deja.Com and ASSTR/ASSM is assumed and encouraged.

Thank You and Good Day,
Kenny N Gamera
turtlemeat69@hotmail.com

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Gamera
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Gamera/Beggars_Can't_Be

                  Beggars Can't Be... Part 5
                Tall, Blonde, and Fully Armed
                             by
                       Kenny N Gamera

The Saturday morning light came through a crack in the
blinds.  Wisely, it shone upon the beautiful, sleeping form
of Jenny who was curled up asleep besides me on her bed.  I
leaned against my hand and watched her, from outside the sun
beam.  Peaceful and quiet, she glowed with life.  Tears
welled in my eyes as I thought about the night before.  It
had been a long time for me.  A little too long maybe, but
she...

   Never mind.

   Just succeeding in not waking her in the process, I got
up from her bed.  After one last look, I shut the door to
her room leaving it unlatched so not to disturb her. I
padded down the hall and walked into the foyer.  As you may
recall, dear reader, that was where the two of us had
deposited our clothing.  The AC felt too cool on my exposed
genitals and rear, plus I had never learned to feel
comfortable flapping around free and easy, plus flying bacon
grease does not tickle.  The sum total came to my needing at
least my briefs before I started breakfast (Ken's rules of
conduct number four: always cook breakfast for your date
when applicable).

   Besides there was a roommate about...

   "Not bad for a white boy."

...and a beautiful, blond Viking-warrior-princess
disguised as a police officer.

   Please imagine the following from a cartoon; the wasckly
wabbit has once again turned the hunter's devices against
him.  The hunter has been blown to kingdom come, and covered
in black soot, he stands before the camera wearing just his
pokka-dot boxers.  He grins; he blushes; he covers himself
with both hands as he makes the universal body gesture for
"I really gotta pee."

   Got that picture in mind.

   That was me.

   Without the boxers.

   "Hahahahaha ha," I meekly giggled with a machine gun
cadence.

   "But his vocabulary is a little bit larger than I have
been led to believe," she said as she sized me up.
Hopefully, not because she was deciding where a karate kick
would do the most damage.

   "Uh."

   "That's the word I was waiting for," replied my
tormentor, starting to the kitchen behind me.  As she went
by, her hand flew out.  It landed with a loud smack right
where  the huge scar that ran down my leg began on the left
cheek.

   "Erp!"

   "Hmmm, damp.  Good boy, he sleeps in the wet spot."
(Rule number two)

   Before I could reply, she had disappeared into the
kitchen.  I sorted through the scattered clothes for
something more than my underpants (inclusive) to the sound
of first water running from a tap and then a coffee maker
starting its morning duty.  Eventually, I assembled shirt,
Fruit of the Looms, and pants to protect my charms from
further unnecessary observation .

   If not out right abuse.

   On entering the kitchen, I found Joe DiMaggio's second
greatest contribution to mankind finishing its work with a
gurgling sound.  The pot was about a cup short.  The cop sat
at the small table which filled the corner opposite from the
counter with the pot.  In both hands, she held a coffee mug
reading "Nightsticks Make for Better Lovers" that I assumed
held the missing coffee.  After a sip, she looked and smiled
at me (evilly).  I blushed; I grinned; she gestured towards
the coffee maker with her mug.  That directed my attention
to another with the words "Yes, Ma'am" on it.

   I looked at her.  She nodded at a slight angle.  With a
sigh, I poured myself some coffee using the offered mug and
took the kitchen chair across from her.  She smiled at me,
again.

   I got more worried.

   "So, have fun last night?"

   "Uh."

   "Sure as heck sounded like it."  She took a swallow of
coffee, then looked at me with eyes like blue lasers.  "And
don't say 'Uh' this time!"

   Taking my lines from the borrowed mug, I replied, "Yes,
ma'am."

   "Good boy."

   We both sipped our coffee in silence.  She studied me
over her cup; I avoided eye contact.  I no longer feared a
karate kick.  I merely prayed that, for whatever reason she
continued to size me up, it wasn't going to hurt badly.

   After a half cup, I found my voice.  "Where's Kim?"

   "Hmmm, Kim is still in bed.  She won't be bothering us."
She gave me another quick moment of study.  "But what you
really want to know is who I am and what I'm doing here."

   Yes, that would have been a good next question, and one I
should have been wondering about.  I hadn't because the
woman acted as if she owned the place; her presence felt
natural enough that I had never questioned it, like one
would never question the presence of a siamese cat.

   "I'm Sherry, Kim's friend.  I really enjoyed the book you
helped her find."

   I gulped down some coffee before replying.  "I was just
doing my job."

   "Yes," she answered, "but there aren't a hell of a lot
people who will do that anymore."

   I shrugged.  "What I would like to know is what do you
want from me?"

   "Hmmm, the boy has teeth after all.  I was beginning to
wonder," she said aloud to herself.  Then, she replied to
me, "I would just like to find out a little about you.  I
wouldn't want to see Jenny hurt.  She's very special."

   I looked at her, lifting my eyes from the portion of the
table at which I had been staring.  It was my turn to study.
I watched for any sign that her and Jenny had...

   The look on her face clearly said, never you mind.

   I realized right then that it was none of my business.

   I sighed and went back to looking down at my half of the
tabletop.  Having just met me, Jenny may have only used me
for the night.  Tonight, tomorrow, even Sunday in the
afternoon, she may wish to go her own way without me.  I
could hope for more, but I had no claim on her.

   "A gentleman, too.  Very rare now days."

   My head snapped up and hissed, "will you quit talking as
if I weren't even here!"

   "Sorry, it's a very bad habit of mine." This time, she
smiled for real.  She rose for from her seat at the table
and made her way by me.  "Tell Jenny that I'll be getting
off at five and that she can leave Kim pretty much alone
till I get here."

   She stopped behind me.  Bending over, she planted a peck
on my cheek.  "By the way, you pass."

   With that, she left me to my devices in the kitchen.

   It weren't much of a kitchen.

   Granted, an omelet pan may have been a bit much to ask
for, but no eggs?

   I did, eventually, find a box of pancake mix and a
partial carton of milk that I stretched with a little water.
By the time I had built a decent sized stack, Jenny had
entered in a robe she had tossed on without bothering to tie
shut.  It treated me to peeks of her body as she silently
went to the coffee maker.  Standing on her pretty toe tips
to reach into the upper cabinet, she removed a mug covered
with small pictures of harp playing angels floating across
it.  She filled it with coffee and walked over to hug me
tightly from behind.

   I was rewarded with the second peck to the cheek that
morning.

   "Good morning, Jenny."

   "Good morning, Kenny."

   She giggled at the bad poetry of our names together.
After finishing, she added "Thank you."

   "You're welcome," I replied.  "But I needed breakfast
too."

   "Especially after last night, stud," she said as a hand
moved to my crotch.  "How many times did we do it last
night?"

   "I wasn't counting."

   She giggled into my ear.  I felt her tongue on my
earlobe.  "I was."

   Jenny stepped away from me and went to the table with her
cup in her hand.  She sat in the place that Sherry had
occupied during my interrogation and pushed Sherry's used
mug to the side and placed her own down on the table.
Noticing the cup I was using, she shook her head with
another giggle.  I brought her a plate of pancakes and
placed it in front of her with a flourish.

   "Your breakfast, mum."

   "Thank you, Kenneth," she answered with the same
stilted, stuffy voice that I had used in serving her.

   As she ate, I finished turning the batter into pancakes,
eating one while I made the next.  When offered seconds,
Jenny refused.  She also suggested that I not make any for
Kim.

   "She won't be leaving bed for quite awhile," she
explained.

   With the last cake, I stood at the stove with empty plate
in hand.  Jenny smiled at me and got up from the table and
went to the coffee maker.  First pouring herself a cup, she
carried the glass pot over to me and refilled mine and
placed the pot on the counter.  She then took the plate away
from me to set next to the pot.  Without anything to block
her, she reached up and touched her lips to mine.

   Too quickly, she stepped away from me again.

   "Let's go get cleaned up, big boy."

   Ignoring our freshened coffee, she took my hand to lead
me along.  She was almost skipping and moved just a little
faster than I was.  I, thus, was dragged into the bathroom
where she quickly shed her robe.

   "Strip!" she told me.

   I complied with her command, during which time she
started the water and adjusted the temperature.  When I took
my briefs off, I found myself shoved into the shower.   The
water was warm but not hot.  I relaxed in the water for a
moment and the spray hit me in the face.  When I turned, it
was to Jenny with the Nancy loves Ronnie look on her face
again.

   She also twisted a hapless bar of soap around in her
hands, the suds flowing from between her thin graceful
fingers.  Returning the soap to its dish, she reached out
and grasped my flaccid penis.  Slowly, she washed both it
and my scrotum.  She looked up at me with a girlish grin and
then back down to her work.  While I enjoyed her actions,
disappointment loomed if she hoped for any sort of response.
I honestly couldn't remember the number of times we had done
it last night, but it was sufficient to have finished.

   She looked at me and smiled.  I shrugged my shoulders.
She winked at me and moved her hands to my flanks.  She
reached them around and they met at my ass.  She stroked
softly on my lower cheeks; however, the shower spray quickly
washed away the soap.

   "You're not really accomplishing much back there."

   "I'm not?" she said in a fair imitation of an innocent
little girl's voice.  Her eyes held a look of mock surprise.
All the while, her hands continued to knead my butt.  "Are
you sure?"

   "Yes," I winked at her.  "Now hurry up, and I may have
time to give you a treat."

   "Goody," Jenny squealed in glee.

   She grabbed the soap again and began to rub it against my
chest.  The sparse hair around my nipples foamed with
bubbles.  She lowered the bar and swiped my belly like it
was a blackboard.  She asked me to turn.  I complied, and
Jenny washed my back while the soap was rinsed from my
front.  I could sense that she was doddling again.

   I spun around to expose my back to the stream.  I then
grabbed the Jenny by her upper arms and moved her into the
water.  This accomplished getting her hair wet up to the
nape of her neck.  I reached for a bottle of shampoo with
one hand as I held her steady with the other.

   She giggled.  "Not that one, silly man.  That's Kim's."

   I did the natural thing in response; I stuck out my
tongue at her.  Then, I returned the bottle and blindly
picked up what turned out to be conditioner, purchaser
unnamed.  As she laughed, I repeated my tongue gesture with
the addition of a sound that I'd need to look up a spelling
for in my collection of 'Bloom County' books but am too busy
(okay, lazy) to do at the moment. For some odd reason, this
merely caused Jenny to giggle a little more.

   But, as they say, the third time is the charm, and I,
somehow, succeeded in acquiring the correct bottle of the
proper hair care product.  I guided Jenny into the full
spray.  As her hair became completely wet, I squeezed out
the shampoo into my bottle-less hand.  After setting it
down, I pulled her out from under the shower.  She looked at
me with a smile, which I rewarded with a kiss to her
forehead.

   I massaged the soap into her scalp and worked it into a
lather down her long locks.  We stared into each other's
eyes, while I busied my hands washing her hair.  Once I had
finished, I pushed her into the shower again.  Then, I
reached for the bar of soap.

   Jenny lifted her head back and ran her hands through the
soapy water mimicking the models who do shampoo ads.  The
sudsy mess streamed down her back as she combed the rinse
water through her hair with her fingers.  I leaned over to
her neck.  As I washed/fondled her perfectly sized breasts
(a perfect handful), I kissed and nibbled her soft, smooth
skin.  In gentle circles, I lowered my hands from her
breasts down to her stomach.

   From there, I inched my hands slowly down her body.  My
right hand made steady progress to the promised land.  The
other hand moved around to the back, before it also
continued south.  As I ran my hand along the crack between
her buttocks, I suds up the brown curls of her pussy to wash
away the combined stickiness of our releases that had matted
down her pubic hair.

   I rubbed my fingers along her outer labia.  I brought my
other hand from behind Jenny with some clean water, which I
used to rinse the soap away from her pussy.  A finger found
its way into her as I used two freshly soaped fingers to
clean her clit.  Well after they had finished that job but
also well before they quit doing it, she shrieked out.  I
quickly covered her mouth with mine and shoved my tongue
inside her mouth.  In a single motion, she broke the kiss
and pushed me away.

   She looked up at me, panting and with her hands against
my chest.

   I ordered her to turn around before she could say
whatever was on her mind. She complied.  I cleaned her back
with about three swift swipes of may hand.  I ended the last
of these movements at the top of her butt cheeks.  I dropped
to my knees and took a buttocks in each of my soapy hands
and kneaded them.

   My hands moved form her buttocks to where they joined
together.  First, I trailed one hand and then the other down
the valley.  When one finished, I brought it back to the top
to start again.  Pushing her body against the wall of the
shower so that water flowed down her back and ass, I parted
her butt.  The water went over her anus washing away the
soap.  When it ran off her body clear, I lowered my head to
her puckered hole.

    "Lord, that feels good.  I wish that Kim would do that."
She reached back and pushed me away with a sigh.  "Sorry,
guy.  We've got to stop."

   I stood while she turned off the water.  At her
suggestion, we dried ourselves rather than each other to
limit any further delay.  As I dressed in the clothing that
I left on the floor, Jenny walked down the hall to her room
in the glorious nude.  I soon followed her to her room.  I
quietly sat on her bed.

   "I've got to get going soon.  I have to take some samples
from the centrifuge," I said to my shoes.

   "Are you free tonight," she asked without turning from
her closet.  "I can rent a video or something and you could
make us dinner."

   My jaw dropped, and I said in a just that same kind of
suave way a teenaged boy who had just been told 'yes' by the
girl he was certain was going to tell him off would, "I get
off from Mr. Slot's at six.  Shall I bring anything?"

   "Oh, I'll meet you there.  We can get something before we
head back here."  She turned around with a blouse in her
hands and gave me a wink.  "Besides, I need a few things
from the mall."

   She walked over to me and bent down to my level. Our lips
met in a kiss.  It was not very passionate, nor was it in
the neighborhood of friendly; it comfortably combined both
in the best ways.

   Our eyes locked as she pulled away from me

   "Uh."

   "You'd better get going, big boy.  It's getting towards
eight." I received another smile and another wink.  "Could
you show yourself out?  I have a little cleaning that needs
to be done."

   I nodded my head as I got to my feet.  I leaned down to
give her a kiss on her cheek that attempted to duplicate the
sentiment that the one she had given me.  After my lips had
moved away from her, she giggled.

   "Get going, Kenny."  She slapped my behind gently.  "I'll
see you tonight."

   "I look forward to it," I said with an internal wince and
groan. Adding a weak wave, I stepped from her room and
started down the hallway on my trek out of her apartment and
back into reality.

   Just pass the bathroom and across the hall from it, I
noticed for the first time (give me a break, I had a very
pleasant distraction my previous trip through) a mostly open
door.  In fact, the door was mostly opened enough for one
(okay me) to way too easily confirm that it lead into Kim's
bedroom.

   The proof, Kim herself, lay in the middle of a very
neatly made, classic four post bed.  The perfect smooth
surface of the comforter was only broken by the indentation
created by Kim's body; she and it could have been used to
explain Einsteinian space and gravity.

   Sherry, I thought, had done a militarily precise job.

   She had also tied Kim spread eagle to the corner posts of
the bed and had added a gag of some sort, which had been
strapped into Kim's mouth.  Kim could, therefore, do very
little other than stare at me silently.  This, she did,
easily stopping me in my tracks, for the expression in her
eyes showed not a sign of embarrassment or any similar
discomfort at my uninvited intrusion into her  predicament.
She looked as if she had hated me.  We both stayed
motionless for a moment or two.  I stared with open mouth;
she glared with open hostility.

   Finally, I shook the spell which shock had placed on me.
I began to walk away.  My minds eye saw her head follow my
path out of her limited field of vision.  I, certainly, felt
the daggers that her eyes threw into my back.  I puzzled
over what I had just seen as I followed the side walk to my
car.




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