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From: "Preeti Young" <pyt1978@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} The Kristen Chronicles - Damsel in Distress by The Sun King
Date: Sat, 20 Apr 2002 06:10:02 -0400
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<1st attachment, "Kristen 1.txt" begin>

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The Kristen Chronicles -

Damsel in Distress

By The Sun King

The party had been a bust for Eric, and he chided himself for allowing
the inevitable to happen-- yet another time. He knew he should not
have come. Even though almost a year had elapsed, it was just too short
a time since Mindy had removed herself from his world.

'Mindy'-- actually Melinda, she had never liked him calling her by the
shortened endearment. Tall, blond and thin she had been the center of
his life. The pain of her leaving was still too close to the surface,
too intense. He tried, but he just could not get into the singles
thing again, and sometimes he wondered if he really wanted to. Now the
party had brought everything back: the memories, the feelings, and most
of all, the needs.

Certainly the female of the specie was everywhere. They came in all
styles, all shapes and sizes. That's what made it such torture just to
look around. He tried, but he could not seem to get his heart into it.
Every time he was in the presence of a desirable woman, he fell apart.
The old doubts and deemed inadequacies surfaced each time to render him
a helpless tongue-tied idiot.

He knew most of the women from the office, but it was different here.
He had so little to say. When he talked to one, he felt strange and
foreign. What could they see in a thirty-something has-been? He felt
defeated before he had even begun. Still, one woman had caught his
eye: a shapely petite brunette from clerical. She had arrived with
Chad, one of the salesmen. The guy was an asshole, or so Eric told
himself-- perhaps a bit jealous of the cocky underling, but unable to
consciously analyze his true feelings, especially as depressed as he
was tonight.

Eric had caught the lady looking at him from time to time; little
furtive glances, but unmistakably meant for him. It seemed Chad left
her alone much of the time as he circulated, talking up any and every
chick he could find or would listen to him. Maybe she felt a bit like
Eric tonight-- lost and alone, and very neglected.

Eric thought her name was Kristen, or something similar. He had seen
her working on the computers in his section several times, and she was
older than the majority of the women who served as secretaries at the
office. She never dressed too provocatively, but on several occasions
he had managed to glimpse a bit of very shapely thigh. She wasn't
DROPDEAD beautiful mind you, but something about her made his heart
beat a bit faster each time he saw her, and he had been watching for
some time now. Characteristically, even though he dreamed and schemed,
he was unable, to summon the courage to approach the woman.

Word was that she was divorced, like he, and thus a bit wary of men.
Just his luck. A different, more self-assured man might have found the
opportunity this very evening to finally introduce himself. He had
come close, but with the chips on the table, he had just walked by.

Anyway, that was a chance missed now. He said a few good-byes and
slowly made his way toward his car parked down the street. The night
sky was beautiful. As if they were hung on the moonless celestial
canopy, a million stars shown through the overhanging branches of the
trees lining the avenue. As he slid into the seat and started the
engine, Eric felt very much older than his years and more than ever,
estranged from the world. He guessed he would just go home and see
what was on the tube-- another evening like all the rest.






He probably would end up as he did so any times. He would drop a video
in the VCR and imagine that the beautiful woman on the screen was
available just for him. He never watched movies; he was more excited
by the perfection of a single creature. The act, sex, whatever one
labeled it, was never as enticing as what led up to it. Mindy had
certainly been unlike the girls in the videos; they were so seductive
and erotic as they exhibited their sculptured bodies for him to see and
be aroused by. Perhaps early in their relationship, when lust was more
of a driving force than anything else, things had been different, more
sensual. But that had slowly changed over the five years of their
marriage, until there was little passion left. The pale
gossamer-haired woman that turned every head when she entered a room,
became for him an inanimate object, a perfectly formed statue who just
lay there, merely a receptacle for his occasional nocturnal tribute.

Checking his car mirror, Eric was startled and at the same time
enthralled by the reflection, a bazaar drama being played out before
his eyes. Two figures were standing directly opposed to each other.
He strained, peering into the dimly lit area where the drive met the
street. It was Kristen the girl, his girl from the party or at least
she should have been. She was animated, engaged in a heated
conversation with-- yes, it was Chad. As he watched, the exchange
between the pair, two things became quickly apparent. One: Kristen
appeared to have just come out of the rain; actually she was more
correctly, 'soaked'. And the second: this was more than a
conversation; it was an argument, and the manner of hunky salesman was
becoming increasingly threatening. As he reached out to grab the
woman, she bolted from his grasp.

The lady ran directly toward Eric, scurrying up the street as fast as
she could in high heels and her tight little skirt. 'Good thing Chad
had a little impediment too. He stumbled awkwardly, as he narrowly
missed falling on the asphalt.

"You cold little bitch." he screamed after her, staggering again from
too much indulgence. "Get home the best way you can. I can get a lot
better tail than you anytime. You're just a little tease... like
everyone said."

The woman slowed her pace as her pursuer seemed to falter, her posture
taking on the unmistakable aura of dejection. Perhaps it was his
imagination, but she had seemed to wince at her assailant's verbal
barrage. It might also have been a sigh, he could not tell; but then a
self-deprecating shrug gave indisputable credence to her exasperation.
In the end, obviously rejected and alone, she started trudging slowly
up the darkened street.

Eric rolled down his window as she passed, her heels making little
staccato taps against the pavement.

"Need a lift?" he inquired.

She jumped, startled by his sudden intrusion into her world, then
stopped. His query, met first with an icy stare, eventually received a
nod of resigned capitulation.

"Sure," she answered, "why not?"

Eric swung the door open for Kristen. By now Chad had long since given
up and was returning to the gathering from whence he had come. His
swagger, though much disoriented by Demon Rum, still defined his
haughty gait.

Kristen slid in and gave another huge sigh, and after a reflective
moment, began to speak.

"I knew better than to come here with that bastard, but I didn't want to
come to the Christmas party alone. All he wanted was to 'get some'...
that's what he said to me: 'get some'," Kristen spoke in low, measured
tones, as if recounting a fairy tale, or a shopping trip to the mall.
After a pause punctuated by a deep breath, she continued, selecting her
words, "and when I said no, he pushed me into the fucking spa...
accidentally he said, mind you."

Kristen was gazing directly ahead, seemingly lost in her own private
world and oblivious to her surroundings.

"Dammit. That obnoxious prick... and a pretty small one at that, at
least from what the girls in steno say." More than a hint of anguish
was evident in Kristen's voice. "Ya just live and learn, but I don't
ever seem to learn."

"Well," Eric answered uneasily, trying to ignore the implication in her
voice, and wishing to change the subject anyway, "I don't believe we've
met...Eric, Eric Roberts."

"Kristen Brown," came the terse reply, "and I already knew who you are.
You think I'd get in a car with a total stranger at midnite?"

Eric Roberts gave a questioning glance at his passenger. The street
lights were bright enough to define for him an expression of anger and
hurt. They defined other things too. Her wet top was draped like a
second skin over two of the most perfect breasts he had ever seen, at
least outside of a magazine's centerfold. Her nipples, proudly
projecting their existence from beneath the moisture laden layers, were
taught and erect and trying to push holes through their restraining
garments.

He took her to be a few years younger than his thirty-six, but the
sensuous torso so graphically displayed for his perusal, could very
well have belonged to someone much closer to adolescence. She had
never seemed the exhibitionist type, always so retiring about the
office; but, unintentional or not, she was tonight.

"Sounds like my reputation precedes me," Eric offered, none too
confidently.

She answered matter of factly, "All good, unlike some people we know."

The anger in her voice was not a bit diminished; in fact, if anything it
was increased as the reality of her situation set in. That fact was
not lost on Eric.

"You OK?" he ventured.

"As a matter of fact... no," Kristen exclaimed. A noticeable shiver
passed through her body.

"I'm sorry," Eric managed to interject quickly, as he snatched his
jacket from the leather seat between them, and handed it to her. "You
must be freezing."

"No, but I am making a mess of your seat", she answered, coming out of
her funk enough to accept his offering. She had caught his clandestine
glance, but made no move to cover her chest. She just slowly reclined
until her back was against the door and looked at him as if to say:
'What do you think?' She had to know what was so 'apparent' on her
chest, or was it 'transparent'?-- anyway she, for once of late, did not
seem to care. Kristen was tired. No, not physically, she was tired of
being the one that got left out, got ignored. If you had asked her,
she might have denied any conscious reason for her actions at this very
moment, but they were planned none the less.

"If you'll be a gentleman, I'll take this skirt off so it won't soak the
upholstery. I've had to fight off one bozo tonight, you won't be
another, will you?"

A coy smile crossed the lovely face illuminated so perfectly by the pale
lamp light. Casually she unzipped and guided the soaked garment over
her hips. Knowing she had her companion's rapt attention, she waited
momentarily before slowly depositing the skirt on the floor. In the
process she exposing two luscious thighs that he had only imagined
before. Finally, after pausing a tad longer than decorum would have
dictated, she casually slid his coat back over her exposed lap.

Her top had been long enough to hide from the spectator any anatomy of
import, but Eric had no doubt that Kristen was sending a message. Best
of all, the message was obviously for him, and one part of his anatomy
was getting that message loud and clear. He hoped she could not see
his problem as it arose; but if he could see her physical attributes,
she could probably see his. The difficulty lay in the fact that his
attribute was becoming more apparent all the time. A little alcohol
was obviously having it's effect on both of them.

"Well, what do I do now?" Yet another sigh brought the rise and fall of
that unbelievable torso. "Here I am, stranded, without all my clothes
on, and with a guy who I hardly know." An expression of helplessness
crossed her visage, along with something else Eric could not read.

"God, I hate that egotistical bastard," she continued, "just like the
asshole I was married to, and right now, I really didn't need this..."

She trailed her sentence off mid-thought and continued to gaze Eric's
way, but now her focus was past him. Locked on a distant world, he
decided she had been talking mostly to herself. The small bits and
pieces of office gossip made more sense how. Married too soon, a kid
too soon, and a bastard husband that thought only of himself: Kristen's
situation was similar to too many of the girls that worked at the
menial jobs in the office. She had at least had the guts to leave her
shame. Now the aftermath was beginning to take its toll. She should
have had the brightest future imaginable; she was so obviously bright
and stunningly attractive. Now her options were a lot slimmer.

"Well, can I take you home; I would really like to? I'll be the perfect
knight. I promise," Eric offered, pleading in choppy little phrases,
not really believing that luck had intervened like this in his behalf.
He felt like a schoolboy asking the head cheerleader for a date to the
prom.

His passenger did not avert her unfocused gaze from someplace a million
miles behind him.

"A comely damsel in distress happens so seldom these days," he
continued, simultaneously thinking to himself: '... especially to this
guy'.

She made no move to answer. Eric considered her silence a positive
sign; at least she hadn't shot him down immediately.

"That is, if you will allow me?", he proposed, trying to sound prosaic
and at the same time hide his primary motivations. Hell, they were
almost his only motivations; being a nice guy was very secondary right
now. He had the chance to really get to know this women tonight and he
was hoping it might work out. Kristen focused her attention back on
him.

"Well, kind sir," his luscious ward finally demurred, "I can't think of
a better white horse than this conveyance... or a better protector than
you. ( switching back from her forced theatrical dialog ) It's just a
few blocks from here, and I guess I could walk... but I will accept
your offer, if you are so damned determined to be chivalrous."

With that she slid her leg into the seat and settled back facing him
directly across the small but still dividing expanse of leather. She
was there for him to view, but still separated from him by miles. The
anger was gone from her face, but the remaining expression held
something Eric could not ascertain. He ventured a more explicit glance
at the next light. Her eyes immediately locked on his, as she once
again made no attempt to hide her physique. In fact, if anything, she
was posed to accentuate her attributes. Expressionless, motionless,
she overtly held his eyes with her own.

Obviously Kristen was playing a game, trying to read his mind, divine
his intentions. What Eric did not know, was that cool, collected
Kristen Brown was more than playing, she was gambling. The outcome of
her wager might end at the very center of her self-esteem. She had
felt so disdained and outcast for too long. Without thinking in
logical terms, she knew tonight that she needed something more than to
return to her 'good little girl/woman/mommy' existence. In short:
inside, the little secretary was anything but cool and collected.

He decided two might play even better than one, but like most men,
clueless about the rules. The lady didn't know it, thank goodness, but
poor Eric was in way over his head. Submitted for your approval, dear
readers, two very uncommon people, nice people, caught up in the
undertow of life.

No longer wishing to disguise the focus of his attention, Eric allowed
his eyes to wander leisurely over her body. Purposely avoiding her
gaze, he allowed his vision to partake fully from one area of her
pulchritude before moving to another. When his visual journey finally
returned to her face, he found her quizzical expression replaced with a
smile. Well, it seemed to be a smile, but yet it wasn't one exactly
either. True, the eyes twinkled , but the smile was not up to
specifications. Her full, almost pout lips were still lightly drawn
together, and only the upturned corners gave a hint to the exact nature
of the expression. Still the focus of her eyes never faltered, now
almost burning a hole through his visage.

Then slowly, whether by intention or not, she allowed Eric's jacket to
slip to the floor.

The play of moving light and shadow on the convexities and valleys of
her body presented an erotic mosaic to her viewer. In actuality, her
body was better than he had first imagined. Most men think a girl has
to be tall to be gorgeous-- you know, the lanky model type. Mindy had
been that kind of woman, pale and soft with legs that went on forever.

Well, Kristen was by no means that. He guessed she was about five foot
two, and possibly a few pounds too heavy. Her extra weight, if the
viewer deemed it to exist, was mostly below her waist, but nicely
proportioned. Her legs were toned and curvy-- the kind that one would
expect on a dancer, and her gorgeous full hips diminished quickly into
a small waist. All in all, a package that possessed both a physical as
well as an erotic presence.

Eric had heard his wife say once that women defined their degree of
thinness by the opinions of other women. Kristen was not what another
woman might consider physical perfection. Men would be inclined to
feel otherwise.

The thoughtful observer might question Kristen's apparent lack of
awareness of her effect on men. After all, you could not attain the
age of maturity, look like Kristen, and not be aware of your sex
appeal. Perhaps she was, perhaps she no longer was, doubtful she never
had been; but this lady's light was hid under a bushel all too much.
The shell that her pain had caused her to hide behind, had changed her
in so many ways.

After several minutes, Kristen broke the mutually imposed silence.

"Do you make a habit of saving stranded women or is this my lucky
night?" she asked, her eyes shining more brightly than before,
sparkling with more intensity than the glow of the illuminating street
lights should allow.

Her mood was changed; in fact, everything about Kristen Brown was
different.

She was just drunk enough to lose a little self-consciousness, and Eric
guessed he was getting a glimpse of a Kristen from years before. The
only thing that might account for the stark dissimilarities between
this Kristen and the shy little mouse whom he saw every day at the
office was pain-- not the physical kind but the psychological. Could
this be the girl inside the retiring woman, the one before all the
hurt? He liked what he saw, but he liked the everyday Kristen perhaps
even more. He should have told her that right then and there.
Possibly his candor would have saved them the next eventful moments,
because she really needed to hear the words come from his mouth. At
any rate, he didn't; he just could not find the courage.

Then it all changed, almost in the blink of an eye. Leaning forward
toward the dash, she dropped her face into the palms of her waiting
hands.

"I can't do this, at least not anymore, and certainly not to you.
Before my marriage, back when I was a kid, I liked to tease.... I was
such a bitch; I enjoyed showing off my body." Kristen spoke slowly, in
measured way. She was picking her words painstakingly, allowing the
softness of her voice to help convey the full meaning of her phrases.

"God, I liked to play that game... but that was a few years ago, and I
doubt anyone would notice now if I walked into the mall naked. I feel
so silly, coming on to you... you probably don't even think I am
attractive. 'Just a pitiful old broad trying to be sexy."

Eric wanted to reach out to her, bring her closer. Instead he took the
safer course of action once again, his attention riveted on the street
ahead as he turned into the parking lot of her apartment complex.

"I came here tonight to try to get some of myself back... and I got what
I deserved from Chad. He may be a prick, but I got what I deserved...
," the lovely passenger whispered, traces of deeper emotions giving way
to soft almost indiscernible sobs.

Eric felt her anguish, he had visited her pain before.

"Geeeez, what a rambling blubber I am," Kristen said looking up. "I'll
shut up, if you will just take me home. I promise."

Eric had always been a sucker for a lady with a tear; especially one so
enticing as this one. Whether it was seeing his passenger reach rock
bottom before his eyes, or just finally deciding to act on his wishes,
he knew it was time.

"Kristen, if I may say so, you are very wrong. If you could see yourself
as other men see you, you would see a very sexy, very beautiful lady.
You just haven't been looking too clearly of late."

Kristen seemed startled, seemingly caught offguard by his assertions.
Her cheeks glistening with the wetness from her eyes. "Do you really
think I'm... you know?" she sniffled in little girl fashion, genuinely
unable to say the word. Then, using the back of her hand, she wiped
her cheek, smearing her running mascara across the skin's moist shiny
surface.

"Sexy? Unbelievably," he replied. "And actually we ARE here."

Time seemed suspended as the two stared at each other. The man did not
wish for the woman to leave, and she was not yet ready for the evening
to end.

Slowly, her eyes still locked on his, Kristen unbuttoned the slick
translucent top, then she slid languidly across the leather until she
was positioned just inches from his hip. The two sides of the garment
parted, allowing a sparsely covered breast to spill into view. He
moved to meet her, pulling her close. Her mouth was so close to his
ear, and the tickle of her exhaled breaths caused the hairs on the nape
of his neck to crinkle, and shivers to descend his spine.

"Please, just for tonight," she whispered. "I need you so bad."

Purposefully she brought her tiny, trembling hand over the straining
bulge of his crotch. He could feel her soft breasts against his arm.
Her breathing began to come a little heavier as she kissed first his
cheek-- then nuzzled his neck. Her hand traced the length of his
throbbing shaft, still restrained behind his zipper.

"Uhhhhh," Eric moaned softly, responding primally to his latent needs.

With uncertain fingers, she first unzipped him; then, with his help,
brought first his pants, than his shorts down to his thighs. By lamp
light from above, he saw her bend those lovely lips down and tenderly
kiss his lengthening member.

"So beautiful... I haven't been this close to a man in so long... so
long." She gave a tentative lick under the swollen head, then down the
veined shaft pulsing now with the beat of a heart.

An expression of lust and satisfaction was taking control of Kristen's
lovely face. This feeling she had not had for so long: the satisfied
look that a female has when she knows the power that she has over a
man. Her face mirrored the realization that it was her body, her
sensuality, that was causing his excitement, and she alone could
fulfill his desires. She held her prize in her tiny hand, gazing upon
its throbbing rigidity. The unaccustomed sensations pervaded her being
as she struggled for retain her grasp on the reality around her as she
slipped into the mist of her most sensual dream. It had been so long
since she felt desired, desirable.

Bringing her lips to his ear, she breathlessly demanded, "Do you know
how I feel right now?"

Kristen guided his hand to the warmth of her core. His fingers
hesitantly found her moistening labia, feeling her valley, with little
dullness of sensation through the thinness of her sheer panties.
Displacing the fabric, he allowed one finger to tentatively enter her,
stroke her softly, find the hardness between her soft folds. Her
aroma... the smell of a woman's lust... was lightly present in the air.
Her spirit, her aura, her very existence filled his senses, and her
eyes danced in the dim light. If she was reliving past glories, he
didn't really care.

"Feel what you have done to me?" she asked surreptitiously, not wanting
to appear a wanton woman, but feeling like one none the less. Tonight
she would not allow her lust to be her shame. She had forgotten how
men respond to a woman who is not afraid to be such. She vowed never
to forget again.

Eric was mesmerized, unable to answer her question. And she really
needed no reply.

"Are you in need of release, lover. Soon... very soon," Kristen
offered, realizing that the object of her attentions was of flesh and
blood, and had human needs and wants.

Kristen's face took on a dreamy appearance. She had become a citizen of
another world. Her smoldering eyes implored him to fulfill her needs,
yet inside she wanted something else. Less driven by her own desires,
and more by her wishes to please her partner, she sat beside him,
alternately stroking his hardness and taking the soft glans into her
mouth. She knew instinctively he was her slave, but she needed to give
him more, to repay him for what she had been given. He joined her
fantasy, now a more than willing participant.

She got out of her door and beckoned him to follow. The thought of
people watching made the idea even more tantalizing. Grasping his hand
she literally dragged him to a waiting outdoor chair in the edges of
the shadows. Pushing her prey down onto the cushion, she stood before
him. The soft glow from the orange lights illuminating the pool,
reminded him of the twilight at day's end, just before darkness
descends completely. Languidly, as if seeking his approval, Kristen
slipped her last vestiges of clothing to the ground.

"You are so beautiful," he said hoarsely, making a tentative move to
rise.

"Sit," she commanded.

Standing there before the man, her desire so evident, was a beautiful
enticing woman, a woman asking to be satisfied. If anything, it seemed
to Eric, the dim lights accentuated her beauty, a beauty not like the
perfection of youth displayed in a video. It was the mature allure of
a woman, now, at last confident in her body and its powers over this
male. Standing in front of him, flushed with the fires of lust,
Kristen Brown waited, unsure, hesitant of her next move, contemplating
where this might take her and knowing her choice was already made.

Eric could only gaze at her beauty. Her perfect sex lay open for him
now, much as a summer lily opens to the morning light, its dewy petals
moist and full.

"I don't know how long I can last," Eric's insecurities surfaced. "I
want so much to satisfy you. ...It has been so long."

"It doesn't matter!" she responded. "Not tonight."

She moved a step closer, fully into the shadows now.

"Eric, make love to me," she whispered.

With that she mounted him. Engulfing his throbbing cock in one deft
rapid motion; she took his length deep into her burning center. He
filled her to the brim in return. So completely ready was Kristen,
that she came immediately as his pelvis found her mons. Shuddering as
her spasms overtook her, the woman gave herself to her urgent needs.
He felt the waves of her release engulf his hardness, as
simultaneously, he found the termination of her velvety depths.

"Goooood, you feel so good. Please quench my fire," Kristen
breathlessly implored. Her words had no tone, only the resonance of
her exhaled air, but she needed his fulfillment as much as her own.

Eric knew he could hold out little longer. Summoning all his strength,
he raised them both up from the chair, the pair still joined in a
conjugal embrace. He grasped her by the thighs as she instinctively
circled him in a clinging grip. Then separating from her loins, he
turned around and placed her before him, on the cushion. She was an
alter to a sacrifice; it was her beauty he worshipped. He positioned
her two trembling, yet perfect legs on his shoulders and thrust his
power once again into her waiting, open warmth.

"Fuck me, pleeeeze, ...yes,fuck me deep... fill me up," she hissed, her
words giving purpose to his actions. She felt his hardness slip into
her until she could accommodate no more.

Eric stroked with all my might, seeking the fulfillment of his specie:
Striving solely to satisfy the desires of the female displayed before
him. In and out, then again, fighting to control his release, an
eternity, yet only an instant. He felt it start so deep inside. He
drove into her as she screamed behind clenched lips, extolling his
manhood, so deeply sheathed in her demanding hold.

She must have felt his straining cock swell in preparation for his
orgasm.

"Give it to me. I need to feel you cum. Give me your seed," she
rasped.

"Please... deep... Cummmmmm in me so deep."

Eric gave one last thrust as he came, gushing spurt after spurt. Her
burning cunt sucked the contents of his manhood into her devouring
warmth. She shuddered again as spasms of ecstasy overtook her once
more.

Finally, they collapsed together, sated, drained of their lust. After a
lingering kiss, bodies intertwined, skin touching skin, Kristen broke
the mutual silence.

"You are something, do you know that?" Kristen said, tracing a finger
from her lover's chin, down to his navel. She stopped a tantalizing
few inches above his withering erection.

"You inspired me," Eric answered, smiling into dancing eyes.

"Please go now, I have never felt like I do right now, and I don't want
to do something I will regret tomorrow morning.... I'd like nothing
better than to drag you up to share my bed the rest of the night. But
circumstance dictate differently... besides I think we both better find
someplace less public before they kick me out of here."

"I understand... can I see you again." He questioned, while his eyes
implored her.

Kristen appeared startled. "I'm very flattered, but it's just that most
guys never come back. I got a wonderful little eight year old
impediment waiting for me up stairs, and she comes first."

She looked into the man's eyes, trying to read his thoughts, "I thought
you knew... I, uh just figured you wanted to mix juices and
disappear... sorry... God, I'm really screwing this up..."

She let silence come to them as they looked into each other's eyes. Both
were seeking a grasp on the moment. Kristen was the first to speak.

"I was playing a game tonight... and now I am embarrassed," she said, a
little unsure of where she was going. "What you just said kind of
threw me. You want to ask me out?"

"Yes. What are you doing tomorrow? I'd like to meet her, your
daughter; and if she is anything like her mommy, I bet she is
wonderful."

Standing there by the pool in the diminished light, a beautiful mature
woman, not wearing any clothes, kissed a man... not just a peck on the
cheek, but a deep kiss conveying the emotion she felt. By most
standards, the act was not earth shattering, but to Eric Roberts, it
moved the world.

***End


For this and other free erotic stories, visit www.aiasden.com, the web's 
newest source for free erotica!




<1st attachment end>


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