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Message-ID: <39346asstr$1037491805@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Kenny Gamura" <turtlemeat69@hotmail.com>
Mime-Version: 1.0
Subject: {ASSM} {song fest} Laying Out My Winter Clothes {Gamera}(right story) (flash, m-solo)
Date: Sat, 16 Nov 2002 19:10:05 -0500
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                         Disclaimer

What follows is a work of fiction.  Things have been
completely made up by the fevered mind of the writer.  It
is posted in entry to the ASSTR Anniversary Song Stories
Festival of 2002 in the "Mood Challenge" category.  As
such, it is a sex story meaning that it includes
descriptions of sex acts and so you should most likely not
be reading it, especially if doing so will result in
prison, spankings, restrictions of privileges, or excessive
numbers of "Hail Marys."

In no way does the posting of this work on the Usenet imply
that the writer has waved any rights under international
convention and copyright law.  The use of this story on any
web-site, both commercial and free, is prohibited without
advance permission.  The archiving of this story by
ASSTR/ASSM (including the Festival Webpage) and Goggle is
understood and encouraged.  Come-ons for penis enlargement
systems and hair replacements can be sent to the address
below, where they will be deleted without being opened.
The occasional piece of fanmail will not be deleted, but
instead, will be read, answered, and saved forever.

Thank You and Good Day,
Kenny N Gamera

turtlemeat69@hotmail.com
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Gamera


                Laying Out My Winter Clothes
              An ASSTR Anniversary Song Story
                            by
                      Kenny N Gamera

   I take the sweater from the box and lay across the my
bed.  I look out the window at the gray sky, threatening
some sort of foulness, and ponder whether I should put it
on now or put it away with the others.

   I go to the window and look out to the street below.
People in lonely groups hustle back and forth going
nowhere.   Brown leaves from some trees down the street and
the discarded litter evidence the swirling path of the
breeze that catches at their coats.

   I sigh.  I let my thoughts wander to Leslie and what she
might be doing.  I think of her long blonde hair and her
dark brown eyes.  I sigh again.

   I step away from the window and drop down on my bed,
just to the side of the sweater.  I lower my hands.   With
a tug, the zipper to my pants slides down.  I am hard so my
right hand begins to slide up and down the length of my
penis, which my left hand gently holds steady.

   From contact with my lower fist to the lip of the
helmet, I let my fist travel back and forth.  In my mind, I
just talk with her about nothing really, just talk.   She
pays attention to me as I pay attention to her in the
interplay of small talk.

   As we go through imaginary conversations, my hand
speeds in its action.  She laughs at what I say.  I smile
at her insights.   I feel myself tense, and my imaginary
self asks.  I hold back for a moment before the imaginary
Leslie says yes.  I feel the release.

   I clean my hand with a tissue and walk to the calendar.
So many days away, I mark another to the coming semester
break.

                       Authour's Notes

This is one of five flashes based on the Simon and
Garfunkle song _The_Boxer._  I wrote the one, "Asking Only
Workman's Wages," for the Summer Solstice Rom Festival, but
thought better of it and didn't post it then.  When the
Anniversary Song Fest was announced, I thought to post it
and complete the series with one flash for each stanza of
the song.  They have no order and are not connected to each
other in any way.  As with anything they vary in quality,
but each captures the mood of the verse.  I hope you enjoy.


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-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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