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Message-ID: <39649asstr$1039137002@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: =?iso-8859-1?q?Twilight?= <fadingdistantlight@yahoo.co.uk>
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Subject: {ASSM} Calling You (F-solo f/m?)
Date: Thu,  5 Dec 2002 20:10:02 -0500
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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Hi all,

This is my first venture into erotic writing.  Just to
see if I am any good at it.  I'd really appreciate
some feedback or criticism.

so here it is....

*********************************************


"I had a dream that you stood right in front of me
And called to me in black and white
Though I could see you
I couldn't reach you
You faded into the light."    -Richard Marx


Lucy cried herself to sleep again that night.  As soon
as she clicked the small table lamp off, she was alone
with her emotions and the bleak, empty feeling of loss
came rushing back to engulf her.  Her resolve crumbled
rapidly, her daily façade evaporating as she gave in
to the quiet, persistent tears, until consciousness
faded leaving her in a shallow, fragile slumber.  She
slept fitfully, tossing, alone now in the huge bed. 
Occasionally a small sob would pass her lips.  Once
she cried out his name, a small despairing whisper
against the hiss of rain on the window.

"Lucy!"
Shortly after midnight she woke with a start.  Her
name.  Someone was calling her.  She listened
carefully but the house was silent.  A dream?  The
rain had stopped and only the faint buzz of the
refrigerator in the kitchen, and a steady tap dripping
from the loose guttering disturbed the peace.  In the
distance she heard a car start, and drive away until
that too was lost in the roaring silence of the night.

She padded to her door, stepping into her slippers,
her path illuminated by the faint orange street
lighting from the window.  Pupils wide and dark
adapted she slipped down the landing, pausing briefly
at her housemate's door, listening.  She heard the
faint hiss of Sally's breath, and a click as her clock
ticked over, but nothing else.  She descended the
stairs, the hallway air chilly on her bare legs. 
Involuntarily her nipples hardened beneath the thin
T-shirt she wore in bed.  She thought briefly of the
large, fleecy sweater at the end of the bed as she
stepped into the kitchen.
Gizmo, curled up on the boiler opened one eye to watch
her pass, the other hidden behind his large fluffy
tail.  She opened the fridge door, and grabbed a
carton of milk, the wash of cold air making
goose-bumps rise on her thighs.  Carelessly she
sloshed a half glass full into a tumbler, heedless of
the puddle now formed on the worktop, and dropped the
carton back into the door pocket on the fridge,
shutting the door quickly behind it.

Sipping her milk she moved against the boiler, pushing
her chilled legs against the still warm metal as she
looked down at Gizmo, savouring the fading warmth.  He
yawned and rolled onto his back, spine curling in a
display of pure feline agility, an invitation to
stroke his belly.

Oh, to be a cat, she thought.  Gizmo was Dave's cat. 
Now as master-less as she is, both missing him in
their own way.
"He's gone, Giz."  Her gaze wavered as the hurt
returned.
"Gone" Barely a whisper. "No more."
She looked down into the small cats wide eyes, her own
misting with tears.
Does he understand?  She wanted to make him, explain
it, somehow drive it into that tiny little cat head
that his owner wouldn't ever be back, wouldn't ever
feed him, tease him, stroke him.  His owner was dead. 

"D'you know that, Giz?" she asked quietly, "D'you know
what dead is?"
She dropped the empty tumbler on the worktop over the
boiler and tuned for the kitchen door.
"I don't think I do," she said to the room behind her.
 Still and silent except for an empty glass and a
small cat purring and pawing at the shadows.

She quickly slipped into bed, finding the lingering
warmth beneath the duvet.  Again she was aware of how
big the bed was now with only one soul to sleep in it.
 She curled in an S-shape, wishing Dave were with her,
behind her, his arms wrapped around her, as she
sheltered against his chest.  Desperately seeking the
warmth of his thighs on the back of her legs, the
faint breath in her hair, his scent surrounding her as
she drifted off into a deeper sleep, her back cold,
her legs bare, alone.

She drifted back to wakefulness several hours later. 
She had been restless again, her pillows were pushed
to the corner and she was sprawled diagonally across
the bed, the duvet half on, half off.  Her T-shirt had
ridden up and was twisted, bunched up below her
breasts.  Dreamily she moved to straighten her shirt
when she felt a soft tickle between her legs.  Her
breath caught in her throat as she felt a soft
movement against the sparse hair on her mound.  Her
eyes fluttered open as she looked to the door, closed
and locked, as if for an explanation.  She lifted her
head and looked down her body, over the swell of her
chest between her legs, seeing one knee pale in the
darkness, as it emerged from under the duvet.  Looking
for the telltale kitten sized lump and finding nothing
but rumpled duvet and her own pale flesh.

A tremor of air rose up her thighs and brushed her
pubic hair as it passed up her belly.  Fascination
fought with fear as she felt her nipples harden and a
heat began to grow between her legs.  Her pulse
quickened as her head sank to the mattress, sensations
rolling up her spine as unseen fingers tripped lightly
up her legs.  She felt the moisture gather as the lips
of her vulva swelled, engorged with blood to maximise
these ethereal sensations. 

A faint hiss escaped her lips as she felt a brief
friction against her clit, she moved a hand slowly up
her torso, inching beneath her rucked up shirt,
gradually climbing the curve of her breast until a
single finger alighted on one swollen nipple.  Another
flurry of sensations rushed through her body as she
felt her inner lips part, cool air now caressing the
entrance to vagina.

Another ticking rush from the top of her thighs grazed
her clit again as she felt a smooth wetness trickling
around the curve of her anus.  Involuntarily she moved
her thighs further apart stretching her sex, relishing
the new sensations, feeling a brief chill as the duvet
slipped further down her twisting body.  Caring less
as her finger circled her nipple sending flashes of
pleasure dancing across her skin.

She gasped as a warm wetness suddenly engulfed her
sex.  She felt a pressure at the base of her canal,
her clit glowing from some unseen stimulus.  Lost in
sensation she surrendered, a brief gasp, clutching a
painful handful of her own breast she felt her vagina
stretch to accommodate the invisible force striving to
get inside her.  Slowly she felt herself filled, the
skin of her inner lips alight with friction.  Deeper
and deeper her sex was consumed, a blazing heat
spreading from the force within her.  Until she felt
she could take no more, she felt the hardness halt its
penetration.  It's mass filling her, radiating heat
and love from her innermost places, it grew within
her.  A slow pressure low within her belly, seeking
her pleasure, teasing her insides, a tickle on her
cervix, sliding over her G-spot, throbbing, squeezing
her core in time to her racing pulse, tension building
in her muscles. Then, as her pleasure soared, it
slowly withdraw, inch by inch, teasing her with the
vacuum it left within her.  Finally, with a faint wet
sound, the vacuum burst and the pressure left her,
drawing her frustration out in a breathless sigh. 
Releasing her painful breast, four small crescents of
fire remaining after the tips of her fingers.  For an
instant she thought it had left her totally, only to
feel the pressure return.  Willingly she yielded to it
feeling her vagina stretch once again as it plunged
into her, quicker it filled her, hard and hot.  Again
her fist clenched about her blossoming nipple, as he
other hand slipped down he body, seeking her clit, as
the fire continued to advance up her belly.  

Stretched and filled she finally broke to the
sensation, and cried out, wanting, desiring, she
clenched her muscles on the hardness within her,
feeling it's contours within her as it moved. Her
fingers desperately found the sensitive button of her
clit, mashing it hard against her pubic bone in time
to the thrusting within her, sensations spiralling out
of her control.   Her entire abdomen was on fire,
sweat beading her brow, eyes tight shut.  She arched
her back, her pulse deafening in her ear, until the
plateau could last no longer as her sex exploded in
bright shards of pure pleasure.  A sudden rush of heat
burst within her, as like a coiled spring she
rebounded from orgasm to orgasm, each new peak
blasting through her as though she was engulfed in
fire.
  
Spent, the tension dissolving from her muscles, she
relaxed back onto the bed, eyes wide and dilated she
stared, unseeing at the ceiling as she felt her body
resolve itself.  The heat and hardness had left her,
as slowly she became aware of a faint metallic
tapping, fading into the silence.  She sat up at the
sound, suddenly aware of her near nakedness, pulled
her sweat-soaked T-shirt back down as best she could. 
A flash of silver caught her eye, as she faintly made
out her dressing table in the near dark.

She rose, shakily, and carefully tip-toed over to the
dresser, eyes locked on the faint spectral flash
before her.  Gingerly she reached out her hand, seeing
its image in the mirror, until it enveloped the
reflected light, lifting it and brought it before her:

A small pendant on a fine silver chain.  Saint
Christopher.  It was Dave's pendant.  Carefully draped
over the frame of her mirror, swinging slowly in the
still, night air of her room.


-- 
Twilight.



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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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