Message-ID: <38386asstr$1032390604@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: <news@google.com> X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: zagreus@aol.com (the lizard king) X-Original-Message-ID: <90f04e82.0209181153.26642b93@posting.google.com> Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit NNTP-Posting-Date: 18 Sep 2002 19:53:21 GMT X-ASSTR-Original-Date: 18 Sep 2002 12:53:21 -0700 Subject: {ASSM} Rite of Passage (MF) Date: Wed, 18 Sep 2002 19:10:04 -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 X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2002/38386> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: kelly, gill-bates Rite of Passage (MF) Obligatory warning: this story contains explicit descriptions of sex between consenting adults. Children, prudes, and censors should look elsewhere. This story was inspired by the following strange but strangely erotic image: http://www.cofanifunebri.it/NOVEMBRE-DICEMBRE.jpg ---------------------------------------------------------------- So there I was, just walking down the street, minding my own business. I had been out of work for a couple months - a grim possibility that hangs over every contract worker's head - and already I was going stir crazy just sitting around the apartment and pretending that I was doing something useful. This was the weekend that Sarah was in Chicago visiting her family, so I was out on the street, moving from place to place just looking for something that might help me pass the time. I was moving along pretty randomly, not really deciding which streets to take until I was already there. Red light? No problem, just turn right or left and keep going. I was moving along, letting chance set my path (though I did make a point to influence chance just enough that I wouldn't walk down the streets where the street kids hang out). So anyway, you've got the picture now - I was out, going nowhere, doing nothing, not really sure where I was or even what time it was. As I walked I was daydreaming, thinking about nothing in particular, but I'd been doing it for so long that I was starting to get deep into myself, almost to the point where I didn't really see what was going on around me. Do you ever get like that, just so far into your own thoughts that the real world starts to fade into the background? That was me, just drifting along, and then I saw her. She was standing in a doorway down the street I was walking along, and she was incredible. I consider myself an appreciator of fine women; I mean, I'm subtle enough that Sarah usually doesn't catch me looking, but when I go into a restaurant I know inside of ten seconds whether there are beautiful women there and where they're sitting. My hotchickometer is always scanning, and when someone comes within range of its signal it starts beeping a mile a minute. And let me tell you, this girl was as fine as any I've ever seen. I can't even compare her to the ordinary rank of woman, the sort you might meet at work or at the supermarket. She was way beyond that, out in the hazy, metaphysical realm where professional models and actresses live - you know, that place (like Hollywood, or at least the Hollywood you see on television) where everyone is young, everyone is beautiful, and everyone's body has been so perfectly tuned at the health club and so carefully cut on the operating table that it almost hurts to look at it. There she was, standing in that doorway with a white paper shopping bag in her hand and looking my way. Her hair was long and black and very fine, and the body that you could see under her blue sundress immediately caught my eye and locked it in place. I kept walking towards her, and dimly I became aware that I was staring so fixedly at her breasts - their gentle swell was achingly beautiful - that she was going to notice what I was doing pretty soon. So with an effort of will I forced my eyes up to her face, and that's when I noticed that she was looking at me and smiling. Now, I admit it - I'm not the most confident guy where girls are concerned. I got off to a slow start romantically, and I had enough serious disappointments in the early going that it took me a good long time to believe that women might find me attractive. In truth, Sarah nearly had to throw herself at me before I finally noticed that she was interested, and while the years I've spent with her - good years, great years - have made me feel a lot better about myself, I still have a core of anxiety that crops up when I find myself confronted with an attractive stranger. So when I saw this girl looking at me, I have to admit that my first thought was, "She's probably smiling at a really good looking guy right behind me." My second thought was even stupider: "Is she laughing at me?" Finally I got my head around the thought that she was, in fact, looking at me, and smiling at me, and as I came up to the doorway she was still standing in I pulled my head out my ass and smiled back. "Hi," I said, still walking but slowing down because it looked like she was about to say something. Up close she was even more beautiful than before, and I could see that she was just about my height (or she would be once she took her high-heeled shoes off; one look at her manicured and red-painted toenails made me want to take them off for her). "Hi," she said in a slightly accented voice. French? I couldn't tell for sure, but I thought so - maybe French Canadian. "Can I talk with you about something?" She motioned inside and without a thought I followed her. She could have been planning on robbing me but I wouldn't have cared; I would have surrendered up my wallet and let her knock me cold, all the while trying to sniff her perfume. That's just how gorgeous she was. The first thing I noticed inside the building was the smell - very flowery, but also a sort of heavy smell, like you get in an old lady's apartment or somewhere else where the ventilation isn't very good. I noticed right off that there were a lot of cut flowers inside, all over the place: on tables that lined the entrance, on a desk off to the right, on small endtables that were scattered amid the wooden chairs that lined the walls. Of course I knew by then that we weren't inside the girl's apartment, but it wasn't until I caught sight of a coffin in the next room that I put two and two together: for the first time in my life I was standing in a mortuary. Apparently we were alone, because the girl motioned me towards the room that held the coffin and I saw no one around, anywhere. That seemed a little odd but I didn't think to question it; it was as if I had entered the land of Faerie (or pick some other imaginary, dreamlike land if you prefer), and as long as I had such pleasant company I wasn't about to complain. I followed her into the room and drifted between the rows of empty folding chairs. Behind me I heard the door close, and when I turned around I saw the girl marching towards me, a very serious look in her eye. She motioned with her head towards the coffin. "That's David," she said. Then, looking past me, at the coffin or out into space, "Or that's what's left of him. I like to think that the best part of a person - the true part, really - doesn't die with the body. It just keeps on going. Don't you think?" I nodded. At times like this it doesn't really matter whether you agree with the bereaved, you just need to help them deal with it. The girl looked remarkably good for someone in mourning, I thought, but when you looked closely you could see something around her eyes that said she had been crying. Not just now, but recently. "Cancer," she said. "It wasn't a quick death. It was bad at the end, his body didn't want to give his spirit up. There was a lot of pain, even with the drugs. That was bad. But it was good too, because it gave us a chance to talk." She looked at me, as if for confirmation, and I nodded again. "Closure," I croaked, surprised at the sound of my voice. Then, feeling that the word sounded stupid on its own, I expanded lamely: "It's important to settle things. Before the end." I cringed inwardly, kicking myself for having nothing important or interesting to say, but she just nodded again and looked back to the coffin. "We agreed on something. It was David's idea, but I think it was a good one. That after, when it was over, we should do it one last time. David said that we should say goodbye the way we said hello." She barked a quick laugh, remembering. "The first time we did it, we hadn't even talked yet. We talked later, sometimes all night, but that first night it was just our bodies." I had no idea what she was going on about, so I just kept on nodding like a fool and wondering what she was leading up to. Why was she telling me this? And why the closed door? I hate to admit it, but part of me was thinking that this was going to turn into something religious, that she'd hand me a pamphlet or something and ask whether I've accepted Jesus Christ - or Krishna, or the Prophet, or whoever - into my life. That's what I feel bad about now, that a stranger - during a difficult moment in her life - was pouring her soul out to me, and all I could be was suspicious. I should have been a nicer guy than that, but at least I didn't say anything. I just kept nodding and surreptitiously sniffing her perfume. And I admit it - I was looking at her breasts. So sue me, I'm a guy. "David thought we should do it the last time like we did it the first time," she was saying. "He said that would make it easier for me, after. I don't know about that, but I made a promise." She looked at me, her eyes suddenly very intense. "I made a promise to David." I was transfixed. Partly by those eyes, which were such a dark shade of blue that they were almost black, beautiful in their depth and surrounded by long and lush eyelashes. Partly by her lips, which were full and sweet and begging to be kissed. Partly by the determination in her face, which did not entirely hide the shadow of grief. Inwardly I made a vow: whatever this woman wanted of me, I would do. I would join her church, I would give her money, I would build her a house with my bare hands. Whatever it was, I would promise it to her. It was what I least suspected. Abruptly she handed me the shopping bag, and opening it I found it full of men's clothes. At the bottom was a pair of dark brown loafers, about my size. I looked up at her questioningly. "You will make love to me, yes?" she said, as if it were a perfectly reasonable question for a woman to ask of a man she had only just met. "On the coffin?" I was speechless. Ten minutes before I was a nobody, unemployed and mostly broke, and now suddenly I had stumbled onto the set of a porno movie. I resisted the urge to look around for the cameras. Surely someone was going to yell, "Cut!" and shout for the real actor to get on the set. She must have sensed my disbelief because she hurried to explain. "David and I made a vow to make love one last time, after he was gone. Here, at the ceremony - his family will be coming soon. David is here in spirit, but his body is in that box, so you will take his place. You will put on his clothes, and you will be David, and you will make love to me." She paused, suddenly unsure of herself. "Will you do that for me?" By then my jaw must have been hanging so far open that a small child could have crawled into my mouth and built a fort there. No doubt about it, I was dreaming. At some point my alarm would go off and I'd roll out of bed, thinking about the sweet, sweet dream I had just had. The alarm could sound at any time, though, and time was wasting. So with a "Hell, yes!" I started hurriedly pulling the clothes out of the bag. The girl gave me a little smile, turned, and began walking towards the coffin, slipping out of her dress as she went. That brought me up short. I was still emptying the bag of its contents, but it was an empty, mechanical operation. My complete, undivided attention was focused on the gorgeous woman getting naked in front of me. She wasn't wearing anything under the dress - I had already guessed that, before she started to undress - and as each inch of tanned and flawless skin emerged, my cock pressed harder and harder against the crotch of my jeans. Her shoulders were narrow, her back slender, her waist small, her hips round, her ass tight, her thighs creamy, her calves toned but not overly muscular. As she stooped to remove her shoes she turned slightly, enough that I caught a glimpse of one magnificent breast in profile. My breath caught in my throat; gripped by the sudden fear that I might come in my pants, I pulled my shirt up over my head and started hurriedly fumbling with my belt. Now, you girls out there might be thinking, "You pig - what about Sarah?" And to tell you the truth, if you had asked me that question at that moment, I would have replied, "Sarah who?" The woman who loves me - the woman I love - had been driven so far from my mind that I never once thought of her during the entire time. In a way, then, I wasn't unfaithful to her. I hadn't set out that day to sleep with another woman, and now that it was going to happen I wasn't thinking about how great it would be to cheat and get away with it. In all honesty it was like my previous life didn't exist, or more that it existed outside, on the street and in my apartment, but not inside this place. For as long as I was there, the girl and I were the only two people in the world. For whatever reason she had decided that she wanted me, and I wanted her desperately in return. Anyway, I was undressing as quickly as I could, and being a clumsy fool because of it. I tried to take my jeans off before removing my shoes, and didn't give up on that until I got one of the pant legs stuck on my foot. So I pulled them back on, took off the shoes and socks, and then took off my pants. Then I glanced down and noticed that my cock filled out the front of my bikini briefs, looking like I had jammed a cucumber down there or something. So then, a little embarrassed, I turned my back to the girl while I pulled them down. I admit it was a little silly of me, trying to hide my erection from the girl who had just propositioned me, but it seemed like the right thing to do at the time. Then I started getting dressed again. That was the weird part; a naked woman was waiting for me, but first I had to put David's clothes on. Luckily he was pretty much my size - maybe that's why she picked me from all the guys walking down that street - so no seams ripped and nothing hung too long once I put on his underpants, slacks, and blue button-down shirt. There was a scent on these clothes, and not the same one that the girl wore; apparently David was a cologne man. I kind of liked the way it smelled on me. I slipped on the loafers and at last it was time to close the gap. She was waiting for me, leaned up against the coffin on its pedestal, her eyes far away even as she watched me walk forward. I came up close and put my left hand on her hip, relishing the feeling of her soft, warm skin. "What's your name," I whispered, moving in close. "Marie," she whispered back, putting her arms around me and leaning into my embrace. I was in heaven. Here was the best-looking woman I had ever seen in the flesh, and not only was she naked, she was pressed up against me, her breath soft against my right ear, her hands drifting down my back to close around my waist. I pulled back a bit, our foreheads together, and kissed her. A little voice in the back of my head shouted out a warning about halitosis, but it was a small voice and easily ignored. This was a time for dreams to come true; there was no time to worry about anything being less than pefect. Her lips were perfect, and perfectly delicious, so I stayed there for a while, my mouth working against hers, our tongues touching briefly and then dancing away again. My hands moved up and down the smooth, downy skin of her back, sometimes drifting across the rounded fullness of her buttocks, sometimes moving up her back, following the path of her vertebrae to take a handful of fine, dark hair and pull her in even tighter than before. Still kissing me, her hands worked around to start unbuttoning my shirt, and my own palms slipped forward to cup her full and rounded breasts. "Talk to me," she whispered into my mouth. "Tell me what to do, like you always do." I paused then, but only briefly. I'm not much of a talker during sex; I go to a place that's simply not verbal, and so I usually do it in silence. Sarah makes noise - sometimes a lot of it - but I'm as quiet as a church mouse even when I'm really turned on. So when Marie asked me to talk during the sex, at first I was at a loss. But almost immediately the difficulty passed, because I realized that she didn't want me to talk, she wanted David to talk. OK, I thought, I'll be David for you. I let David's words come out of my mouth. She stooped to kiss my chest, and hissing, the words burst out of me. "Oh yeah, baby. That's it! Just like that." Her hands were working at the button of the pants, working them open and teasing the zipper down. Then I could feel her breath against my cock, even through the cotton of the briefs. I groaned and put a hand on her head, twining my fingers in her hair. "Do it. Do it, baby. Take it in your mouth." She grasped my pants and briefs in both hands and pulled them down to my ankles. My cock, free at least, thrust away from my body to slap against her face. Her hand came up to close over the shaft, and her tongue snaked out to slowly lick the full length of me. I looked down to see her looking up, her eyes full of intense emotion, and then her head turned down as she sucked my cock into her mouth. I groaned loudly, heedless of anyone who might be on the other side of the door. Until then Sarah had been the only woman I'd slept with, and though she enjoys giving head she's not very good at it. I had always suspected that there might be something better - I knew from masturbation alone that there are better ways of giving pleasure than the things that Sarah does to me - but I didn't know it for a fact. In that moment, though, I knew it, because Marie was very good indeed. The pleasure she could give me just with her mouth was incredible. With tongue, lips, and hands she worked - sometimes slowly, sometimes fast - over the head, shaft, and balls, and I had no idea that it could feel that good. All the while I talked dirty to her, muttering obscene instructions that she followed to the letter. Pretty soon I knew that unless she stopped doing what she was doing I was going to come in her mouth. That wasn't part of the plan, so with great regret I pulled her up - my cock making a plopping noise as it slipped from her hot mouth - and kissed her hard. Then I laid her back on the coffin, spread her legs, and returned the favor. I'm not going to say that I'm a sexual artist, but I know what I know. As it happens Sarah really loves oral sex, so that's one thing that I have a lot of practice at. With lips and tongue I worked the length of her sex, pulling back the hood on her clitoris to work it with my tongue, sliding one and then two fingers inside her and pitching the speed of what I was doing to the way her body was reacting. At first I thought she didn't like it, because she was really slow to respond, but then her body began to come around. Marie started whispering something in French that I couldn't understand, and just as my tongue started to ache a little bit her sighs and whimpers became synchronized with a trembling deep inside her thighs. The shaking grew, and her moans got louder, and then with a loud cry she clamped her thighs over my head and came. I licked desperately as she came, and came, and came. At last she lay still and I was able to pull my head free. I wiped the girl juice off my face with the shirt I was still wearing, then dropped that on the floor. I slipped the rest of David's clothes off and hopped up onto the coffin so I could lay beside her. Marie was breathing deeply, her eyes closed and her head turned off to the side, but when I lay down she turned towards me and we kissed, our arms tightly around each other. Her hand reached out and started working my cock again, and in no time it was standing at full mast once again. I rolled on top of her, spread her legs, and then began pushing my way in. I took it slow. I'm pretty big, and maybe bigger than she was used to, so I gave her a chance to get used to me. Finally my cock was all the way in, and we just lay there for a while, kissing, while I worked in and out in very small motions. That's when her juices really got going, so I started fucking her in earnest. She wrapped her arms tightly around me then and started whimpering again. In between the grunts and the moans I could hear her whispering: "Base moi ... base moi ... fuck ... fuck ... fuck me David! Fuck me!" I did my best. We went at it hard and fast, the lid of the coffin thumping beneath us. Marie's legs were wrapped around me and her head was thrown back, her arms spread above her head and her eyes closed tight as I rammed into her as hard as I could manage. I'm not usually one for hard sex - I'm more the slow, romantic type - but I could tell that this is what she wanted and I gave her as much as I could. In truth it was like I was someone else, then. I groaned and roared. I muttered obsenities into her ear. I pinned her arms down and kissed her hard, so hard that our teeth clinked together. I had never fucked like that before, and I don't know that I'll ever do it that way again. Something had hold of me, though - maybe it was David after all. And say what you will, Marie was loving every minute of it. All good things come to an end, though, and finally I could feel my orgasm building. Marie had already come two or three times by then, but I could feel that she was close again so I brought a hand down and started rubbing her clitoris. Between that and my still-pistoning cock she moaned once, sharp, and loud, and then she was climaxing again. When I knew she was in the full grip of her orgasm I let myself go, and with a roar I came, my load spurting inside her. I kept pushing as my cock throbbed, but then at last the well was dry. Gasping and covered in sweat, I collapsed on Marie and took her into my arms. We lay there for a while, catching our breath and feeling the sweat evaporate off our skin. I kissed her a few more times, and she kissed me back, but I knew not to press my luck. We were inside the dream, the fantasy, and if I tried to get her phone number or asked to see her again or did anything to stop being David in her eyes, this scenario was going to end badly. That was the last thing I wanted. Being with her was a dream come true, and I wanted it to remain dreamlike until the end. Eventually we rolled off the coffin and got dressed, her in the blue sundress and me in my own clothes. David's clothes went back into the shopping bag, and after that I don't know what happened to them. Maybe she gave them to charity, maybe she kept them as a keepsake, maybe she gave them to another guy in the hopes of capturing the dream one more time. I had no words with which to say goodbye to Marie, so I simply hugged her hard, kissed her on the cheek, and then walked home. Sarah came home a few days later. I met her at the airport and made love to her the next morning, surrounded by the scattered debris of our breakfast in bed. The lovemaking was slow, but in its way no less passionate than what I shared with Marie. I've wondered whether I'll ever tell Sarah what happened, and I don't know whether I should. But I know, that if I do tell her, the story will begin with the following words: "I had the most incredible dream." -- 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> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d, look for subject {ASSD}| |Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+