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Message-ID: <39723asstr$1039385403@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: vickietern@aol.com (VickieTern)
Subject: {ASSM} MMMMMM by Vickie Tern 1/10 TG Femdom
Date: Sun,  8 Dec 2002 17:10:03 -0500
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

Don't read this if you aren't legally entitled, morally equipped,
or fully aware that the story is a fantasy invocation, descriptive of
nothing, recommending nothing.  Critical comment of any kind sent to 
vickietern@aol.com is always welcome. 





                                Mmmmmm!
                             by Vickie Tern


                                 i.

She stiffened, then relaxed and said "Mmmmmm!"

"Are you sure?" he asked her?

"Of course I'm sure," she said.  "It was fine.  Very nice. It felt
good.   Now you take care of yourself, and then we'll get to sleep,
shall we?"

"All right!" he replied.  He pushed his hips at hers a few more
times and then felt his cock intensify and his whole body go rigid. 
A few spurts and it was over.

"Ahhhhhh!" he sighed, whether in relief or regret he couldn't be
sure.  It was a low peak, but at least it had happened -- these
days he never knew.  And it was more like a stretch and yawn than
the way it once was, a dam bursting and pouring sweet joy into
every crevice of his body.  And somehow it was also a loss.  Of
desire?  He had very little desire these days, and he cherished
whatever he could still feel.  It never survived ejaculation. 
Kelly didn't seem to mind, but he did.

"Mmmmmm!" she said again as she felt Nick throb, then turn slick
and soft and almost immediately slip out of her.  "That's nice,
honey.  I'm glad for you.  Hand me a kleenex, would you?"

He tried to kiss her but she turned her head away from him to
snuggle into her pillow.  So he reached instead for her nipple, to
caress it good night.

"No more tonight," she said.  "OK?  I have to work tomorrow.  So do
you!"  Her eyes closed and she began breathing deeply.  Nick moved
his hand to rest on her hip, but she was already asleep and didn't
notice.  He took another kleenex for himself, blotted his limp
dick, left it stuck there, and settled to sleep himself.

It was a peculiar situation.  Nick and Kelly had been married for
five years.  They were bonded originally by admiration but soon
afterward by perverse antagonisms, the pleasure each one seemed to
take in outsmarting, outwitting, and triumphing over the other. 
Their relationship consisted of sex and quarreling, both of them
competitive and frenzied, ways to enjoy putting each other down.  

The sex expressed insatiable, furious cravings  -- they'd claw and 
grasp and writhe and thrust at each other until their bodies became 
a single musky, entangled, exhausted union of flesh, perspiration, 
and smeared genital fluids.  They each tried to use the other 
pitilessly.  In fact they felt fully compatible only when clamped and
sealed together with sweat, Nick's fat cock buried deep inside Kelly 
and unwilling to quit, swollen to fill her entire inner territory 
while her thighs gripped him tight around his waist, her ankles 
locked behind him, holding him captive. 

It was a kind of combat.  Nick needed to feel he was encircling,
crushing, possessing, exhausting her, reducing her to a whining rag
at his feet too demoralized even to crawl away.  And that was how
he made love to her.  Kelly was even more extravagant in her need
to dominate.  She wanted to squeeze every drop of semen from that
swollen rod he'd put at risk inside her, until it had became a limp
worm.  "I'd love for you to cram your balls in there too so I could
clamp them until they fell off!" she once told him.  "Sometimes I
wish you'd crawl into me altogether, so I could feel you kicking
and wriggling and trying to breathe while I squeeze you into me
deeper, till finally you drown in me and turn to muck and dissolve
and become the slippery part of my pussy, feeling whatever I feel
when there's a cock in me!"

"Oh?" Nick had grunted.  He was still catching his breath when
she'd said that.  But the notion stiffened his dick, still inside
her recovering from the two-person orgy they'd put briefly on hold.

She felt how the idea appealed to him, and smiled a little
maliciously.  "Yes," she said.  "Then you'd be there all ready to
help me welcome newcomers!  All warm and wet, ready to suck on any
other dicks I let enter me."  She felt him lurch again inside
her.  Her eyes gleamed.  Then she changed her line of attack. 
"Maybe the next time you cram that cock of yours into me I'll just
squirm it off and squash it with my pussy muscles into a drippy,
sticky jelly, and then I'll piss it away!"  Now she could smile,
feeling Nick fully roused.  Such talk provoked in him a need to
hammer her harder, more aggressively, mercilessly, and she knew it. 
She wanted to be hammered, and he could maintain the pace for hours
once under way!

Sometimes after the second or third cum it took Nick time to harden
up and dive back in.  Once when they'd been at it all night he
suggested he use his mouth on her while they waited, so her pussy
lips would stay plump and flushed and slippery the way he liked
them.  Kelly gave this idea due mock consideration.  "My virile man
lick me down there, be my darling femmy girl waggling her tongue
inside her Dyke's slit?  Your own fresh sperm's already in there
right now, honey, you realize that?  Mmmmmm?  How many loads
already?  You want to suck cum out of my slit?  You have a secret
desire to taste and swallow sperm?  Really?  Well, I'll think about
it."  

Then she'd growled intensely, "Find cock juice to suck somewhere
else, if that's what you crave.  There's plenty of it hanging
inside every guy's pants, all over town!  What I want from you now
is solid meat clamped between my legs!  Push some fingers in there
and suck on one of my tits while we're waiting."  And he'd done
that until he was again thick and firm enough to re-enter her.  

Later, when her groin and thighs were smeared with thick semen and
her own secretions, she'd taunted him with the idea.  "Baby girl
still want to lick cum out of Mommy?" she'd asked him.  "Rinse out
pretty mouth afterward with nice hot mommy pee, drink down every
drop?"  That had the effect she wanted.  He'd gone red faced and
angry, and slammed himself into her yet again!  

Unfortunately, when they weren't making love, if that's what their
grappling could be called, that same urge to put down and dominate
erupted into towering quarrels.   They were passionate adversaries
in everything.  Both had stubborn, rigid temperaments.  Neither one
took correction gracefully.  Once one of them declared an opinion
the issue was decreed decided and compromise was unthinkable, a
form of defeat -- there would be no backing away.  They yielded
each other nothing.  This meant that many of their evenings were
spent not in sex but in shouting, or in spiteful, simmering,
resentful silences, in self-justifying recrimination punctuated by
slammed doors.  

The issues were always trivial, nothing, mere pretexts for testing
each other's strength and triumphing over each other's.  Who ought
to have cleared the table after dinner.  Whether football was
stupid.  Whether Nick should demand a higher salary (Kelly thought
not, he wasn't worth it).  Whether Kelly really needed that
bracelet she'd just ought herself (it was even uglier than her
wrist).  Where to vacation.  Whether fried fish was better with
lemon or vinegar.  Pointless disagreements, easily negotiable if
either had managed to muster good will.  But instead they'd stand
there toe to toe savaging each other, finding fault and resenting
it, making nasty, spiteful remarks, shouting, scoring off each
other, neither ego willing to quit!  And now and then they'd throw
things, barely restraining their fists.  And now and then set
malicious traps and tricks for each other, petty practical jokes
like open the bottoms of toothpaste tubes, or bigger ones like
empty the other's bank or credit card accounts and feign innocence. 
They lived to plot ways to get even for supposed injuries.  Friends
marveled that they stayed together, and concluded that perversely,
they enjoyed their resentments.  They needed each other.

Mornings when they separated to go to work their rancor would
dissipate, and often in the evening they'd feel remorseful,
appreciative, generous in apology.  They'd talk like any other 
affectionate couple.  One would suggest that they kiss and make up, 
maybe sardonically but sincerely enough. So they would.  The 
lovemaking that then followed was as ferocious
as their quarreling, a sequence of teasing and mocking and
badgering and pounding until both were exhausted.   Then would come
another flare up of temper.  Then another reconciliation, followed
by more feverish grasping and clinching and thrusting.  

The only truces occurred when one of them was out of town on business,
Kelly for her law firm or Nick to promote some new product.  
When these trips lasted more than a week they actually missed each 
other.  But neither ever said so.  They'd never give each other the 
satisfaction, so they acted as if they resented their absences as 
much as their presences.

They both claimed that they hated the arguments, but that was how 
it was!  Someone suggested marriage counselling, but they couldn't 
agree on a counselor.  Kelly tried to convert their rivalries into 
a game -- she suggested they join a BDSM Domination/Submission group,
depersonalize their resentments, and punish each other in controlled
scenarios.  But Kelly insisted that Nick be the first to submit, and 
Nick of course couldn't ever.  So there they were.

Or there they'd been.  Some months ago their quarreling had ebbed,
lost much of its bite and energy, and now it had disappeared
altogether.  Their whole relationship was different.  The two
seemed finally to have settled in and become comfortable with each
other.  Tolerant, subdued, even forgiving.

Nick couldn't understand it.  They'd married too young and had
finally matured?  They'd finally learned the wisdom of compromise? 
Their love had turned selfless, no longer directed toward their own
satisfactions?  For whatever reason there were no more petty
disagreements building to fury, no more rancorous rows, no more
passionate shouting, no more explosions of temper.  Kelly would
bait him, or look at him insultingly, but he didn't care, so she'd 
lose interest.  He'd grudgingly accommodate to her whims.  Kelly
actually began to sound concerned whenever he seemed dissatisfied. 
Which was less and less often.  

They began acting like a proper married couple whenever they went
out.  No more public bickering to embarrass their friends.  Nick no
longer came to work scratched and exhausted, so his associates
eventually quit kidding him about tough nights, cat fights, about
all being fair in love and war, and so on.  Instead they merely
inquired after Kelly's health.  Her girlfriends stopped pitying
her, no longer taking her aside to explain what that impossible
husband of hers really deserved.  The two of them turned
considerate, even tender.  

But this new compatibility came at a terrible cost.  As Nick's
vindictive rages vanished and he became mild, accepting whatever
her whims with equanimity, unsure of himself, so did the ferocity
of his erotic desires.  Soon he lost almost all desire to possess
Kelly's body.  And Kelly scarcely seemed to care.  Their need to
devour each other disappeared with their appetite. 

Nick felt uneasy this was happening, then apologetic, then ashamed,
especially on certain awful but increasingly frequent nights when
he proved too soft to penetrate her no matter how he fantasized or
how long she pulled on his member to awaken it.  He tried to blame
her, to tell her that his passion was gone because hers had gone
perfunctory.  He knew she still cared, but not the same way.  They
both knew that when he'd first proposed marriage sardonically and
she'd accepted sarcastically, they were masking their true feelings
for each other.  Now what were those true feelings?  Just as he no
longer wanted to slam himself into her and fuck her silly, she no
longer felt compelled to wrap her legs around him and hump him
stupid.  A quick kiss was enough for both, when she remembered to
put up her face.  Sex became an occasional thing, something done
and then done with, if Nick could manage it.  Nick didn't like it
and couldn't understand it, but that's how it was.

The next morning, still remembering her "Mmmmmm!" to signify an
orgasm of sorts, remembering how weak his pleasure when he'd cum
into her, remembering how quickly she'd rolled over to sleep as
he'd climbed off her, he decided to ignore his embarrassment and
speak to her.  He happened to be standing by their bed when she
opened her eyes.  She looked at him looking down at her and then
away from her nervously.  So she merely asked, "What?"

"We need to talk."

"So talk!"

So Nick sat down on the bedside and told her as casually as he
could that it was odd, worrisome, that even though he still had
strong feelings for her, still wanted to be close to her, his
craving for her had almost vanished.  Along with formerly powerful
feelings of all sorts.  They both knew it.  And it seemed to be
that way with her too.

Kelly listened closely and replied only "Mmmmmm!"

"What does that mean?" he asked, exasperated.  "We're both still
young!  We both feel bound together!  I think you're more
attractive than ever, even now, with your hair tangled across the
pillow like that, even with no makeup.  Especially now.  You're
more provocative than ever, lying there with your eyes half-closed
and your mouth half-smiling!  How can it be that we don't seem to
excite each other any more?"

"We don't quarrel any more either," was all she replied.

"What's that got to do with it?" he asked her.  "We don't make love
the way we once did!"

She closed her eyes a moment, then opened them.  "Yes, we are still
young," she replied slowly.  "And yes, in many ways we're now
closer, a better fit for each other I think.  Or we're getting
there.  And I love you too, Nick.  But as for sex, well, what did
you expect would happen when the novelty finally wore off?"

"It was more than novelty!" Nick said, raising his voice.  He
realized he'd just used the past tense, and that worried him.  "I
mean, it was how we expressed ourselves! Our exasperation yes but
also our desire, our caring, both.  Six months ago I could never
get enough of you!  I knew that eventually we'd quiet down some,
get less frantic, less aggressive.  Maybe more playful, more
considerate, more sharing.  Time enough for that when we got old,
that was what I thought.  But this isn't even that!"

Kelly smiled to herself, then to Nick, and then tossed off her bed
covers and stretched herself out naked on the bed like a cat,  She
always slept nude.  Her arms reached high up behind her toward the
head of the bed, her round breasts pulled up taut, and her body
tense.  She was all hills and curves dotted by pink-tipped nipples
and a blonde furry bush.  Looking up at Nick mischievously, she
wriggled her hips ever so slightly.

"This isn't something we still share?"

"Oh yes!" Nick replied devoutly, staring almost worshipfully at his
wife's beautiful body, her exposed quim.  He swallowed.  But he
wasn't getting hard, and he didn't want to promise what he couldn't
perform, so he only added, "You bet!  You're as gorgeous as ever! 
But dammit, you don't seem to want me the way you once did.  Maybe
that's why I'm not turned on the way I once was?"

That was unfair, and he knew it immediately.  He didn't feel turned
on anyhow.  

But she wasn't insulted.  Not many months ago she'd have come down
off the ceiling after hearing a remark like that, her fury burning
into him for days afterward.  That puny bastard, blaming her for
his own obvious inadequacies!  Outrageous!  

Yet now, Kelly merely stared, pleased about something he couldn't
fathom.  He immediately apologized, something he'd never have done
a few months earlier.  He explained that her voluptuous body now
seemed something he could appreciate more with his eyes than with
his own body.  It seemed to be a warm, soft, beautiful sculpture,
not something to lunge into and possess utterly.  And that was the
truth.  He was about to confess tearfully his mortification that he
couldn't lunge into her these days, not dependably, when she
interrupted him.

"I hear you," she said, her hands still stretching high overhead.
She looked him over appraisingly.  Then suddenly she lifted her
heels and her rear up off the bed and spread her legs wide apart in
the air like a gymnast.  "Look here, Nick.  Look at this!  You see
it?  My sculpture?  My work of art?"

Her crotch was wide open to view, as fully exposed as her face. 
There was her pink slit, a tuft of pale hair veiling its puffed-out
labia, thin folds of moist red inner membrane meandering across
that deep, closed place Nick knew was the portal to her glory hole. 
Now he did start to get hard.  She saw.

"No time for that now," she said, satisfied.  "We'll discuss all
this some more tonight.  We have to get up and get on our way now." 

She paused, considered a moment, then said casually, "But just kiss
me, that'll be enough.  On the lips."

He leaned over to kiss her.

"No, not up here," she said, her eyes watching him steadily.  "Down
there!"

"Where?"

She looked slightly impatient.  "My pussy!  Kiss my pussy, Nick! 
French-kiss it!  There it is, wide open!  Didn't you once say you
wanted to?"

"All right," Nick said, starting to feel elated.  A go-ahead for
muff diving, finally?  She wasn't mocking him, calling him a
lesbian faggot, as she'd done that other time he'd proposed it?  Or
earlier when they were still newlyweds and he'd wanted it all,
eager to try everything with her, and Kelly had told him "No, Nick,
I'm not dainty down there.  It wouldn't feel right."  Or still
other times when she'd responded angrily, telling him to stop
pestering her?  Rejections that led as often as not to yet other
bitter arguments?  

She'd never let him go down on her.  Sixty-nine was not one of
their many positions.  In fact only once had she taken him into her
mouth, and that was only when she was half-desperate to harden him
after he'd cum three times and she was still unsatisfied.  But even
then she'd first sent him to take a shower.  She'd made it obvious
that she didn't care for oral sex in either of her openings, above
or below.  Until now.

"That's how you can make love to me now, I think," she said
dreamily.  "That might arouse new feelings in us.  I bet it would. 
Maybe our usual cravings have run their course, or yours have.  You
say you want me to turn you on, be more responsive?  Well, maybe I
should be taking more initiatives for both of us.  Suppose for a
while I decide how I want you, and I tell you what I want, and you
satisfy yourself by satisfying me.  That might get your juices
flowing again.  Shall we try that, baby?  You do what I say you
do?"

Nick was surprised by the alacrity of his own reply.  "If you say
so, sure," he said.  "Yes!"  Anything was better than nothing! 
There in front of his face nestled between her strong ivory thighs,
were those soft, moist, pink lips, kissable plump, fringed in gold. 
Heaven, at last!  He'd have agreed to anything!

"Then kiss me, honey.  Right there!"

He bent over and put his face between her legs and delicately
touched his lips to the furry peak of her slit.  Her clit was
somewhere in there, he thought.  Should he send his tongue in
search of it?

"I didn't feel that," she said.  "You're too polite, Nick.  I want
to feel a really passionate smooch.  Pretend you're a high school
nerd dating the school's hottest cheerleader, and kissing her pussy
is all she'll let you do.  Pretend this is your one big chance to
impress her!"

"All right," Nick said.  He fixed his eyes on those swollen folds
of delicate flesh surrounded by thin curly hairs, his own dried
semen still streaked and flecked across some of them.  The rest of
last night's spunk must still be inside her.  "Even though you're
not ...ah...dainty?"

"You want out, lover?  No?  Well then, pretend you're a horny 
adolescent virgin and I'm the town whore and my cunt is dripping 
and stretched and sore from fucking guys all night and I think your
smooth young mouth would feel soothing, so I ask you.  You'd do 
it to get close to a real pussy, wouldn't you?  Wouldn't you? 
No matter how many much jism you sucked into your mouth each time
you kissed me?  You'd swallow it all and you'd wallow your face
in my sloppy slit, wouldn't you, because I wanted you to?  Well, 
I just told you that's what I want!  Don't make me say it again!"

She'd never used those words before, "cunt" and "fucking" -- it was
always "vagina," and "make love"!  At most, "pussy," which always
reminded Nick of a cute, furry, feline thing.  But her dirty talk
was appropriate, he thought.  Town whores don't make love, they
fuck, and not with vaginas but cunts.  And in a way, Kelly talking
dirty was sort of a turn on.  My wife the town slut, he thought.

So Nick climbed onto the bed and straddled her torso facing her
pussy, his balls falling between her breasts, and he bent down over
her belly, and for the first time ever dipped his face deep between
her legs.  A strong whiff entered his nostrils, sweaty, fishy,
musky, cheesy, pissy, salty, a hint of stale perfume, his sticky
cum faintly pungent along with her own secretions.  Kelly fancying
herself a town slut overflowing with semen!  Amusing!  He licked
tentatively at the fold hiding her clit, and the little nubbin came
erect to meet his tongue.  So he took it between his lips and
licked it again.  Her hips wriggled.  Impatiently?  He plunged down
and buried his nose deep into her soft cleft, and then began
swiping her whole slit up and down with his nose and tongue.

"Ahhhhhh!" she said.  For the first time in months Nick heard that
sound from her.  Her mouth was open, and she breathed in and out
deeply through it.  "More, baby!  More of that!"

He gave her more, and her hips rose to writhe with his head's
movements along the whole of her crotch.  "More!" she gasped, her
voice tense.  "Go further!  Further back!  Further in!"

"Further" meant his nose would cross past her anus.  Her rosebud. 
It did, gently.

"Dammit, more!  Push down, push that nose deep into my ass!"
she cried out furiously!  "Deep!  Deep!  Your tongue too!  Lick me! 
Lick!"

Nick was shocked as he leaned into his work.  But it was still not
enough!  "Smooch my asshole, you bastard!  Push!  Face-fuck me!"

He'd never heard anything like that from her before!  Even in the
days when they were both frenzied in the act of sex, all shrieks
and whining outcries and heavy breathing, Kelly had never shouted
like that!  Now?  She was now bucking high into his face, writhing,
trying to seize his head with her legs and crush him into her womb,
trying to fulfill some bizarre desire!  "More!" she shrieked as if
now utterly enraged, "Push into me, goddammit!  SUCK MY FUCKING
CUNT, YOU SON OF A BITCH!!"

Shocked, he began now to wipe his whole face up and down her
crotch, pressing himself hard into her.  His tongue extended as far
out as he could stretch it, stroking and poking into her pussy and
side-swiping her labia while his nose and his lips and finally his
tongue wiped her ass.  Then his tongue penetrated her ass! 
Drinking, lapping, licking, probing!  Her whole lower region
quickly became soaked, dripping, and only some of it was saliva! 
When he reached her anus again he tensed his neck muscles to shove
especially hard, and the tip of his nose also penetrated!  Her ass
cheeks hardened to hold it there.  Buns of steel indeed!  

Her thighs suddenly managed to wrap themselves tight over his neck
and squeeze his ears, clamping, squashing him even further into her
moist crotch, cutting off all light and sound.  Her slits and holes
and membranes became his whole world, wet and velvet black and
airless.  His mouth filled with her.  When he realized he couldn't
breathe he shook his head back and forth to try to free himself,
and her hips began to heave with his head.   He realized vaguely
that she was cumming.  He couldn't hear a thing, clamped inside her
as he was.  He was suffocating.  Drowning!  But still he wriggled
and shook and licked and thrust as best he could while still
conscious.  Finally, as he thought he was blacking out she 
eased off and opened her legs, and he could gasp air!

"OH GOD!" he heard her say behind him in a hoarse voice.
"Marvelous, Nickie!  Marvelous!  Oh!  It's a wonder I have any
voice left after that!  God, that's what I've needed!  That's what
you'll do for me from now on!  Even if it does wake up the whole
neighborhood!"

end 1/10
VickieTern@AOL.COM

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