Message-ID: <40202asstr$1041365546@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-Path: d369b1c2!not-for-mail X-Original-Message-ID: <3E1114DF.5070207@NOSPAM.Nighthawk.sytes.net> From: The Traffic Guy <TrafficGuy@NOSPAM.Nighthawk.sytes.net> User-Agent: Mozilla/5.0 (Windows; U; Win98; en-US; rv:0.9.4) Gecko/20011128 Netscape6/6.2.1 X-Accept-Language: en-us NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 30 Dec 2002 22:53:29 EST X-UserInfo1: TSU[@IONVJWWSRPXMR]V]LPD[SPNRVLHWA_D]\YIMYWBDUYACFWEQJ[YMLYRX\_HTFD_KEVLBVXZOJOC@FU]NPXFGNTCYVLH]PX@BQW@GDTPPF\\BSFNIQKARLGEJGZMZLXWJOFMEI]MGKCS[\^]^K_^JKYRW][KMAYOQBGACCFRASDE[DC^MTLFFVSUAV^N X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Tue, 31 Dec 2002 03:53:29 GMT Subject: {ASSM} Morning After {Traffic Guy}{MF, Oral, Rom} Date: Tue, 31 Dec 2002 15:12:26 -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 X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2002/40202> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, gill-bates Even though this doesn't take place on New Year's Day, it seems appropriate to post at this time of year. Comments are welcome at trafficguy8@subro.dnsq.net or at the above address by removing NOSPAM. from the address. Happy New Year! <1st attachment, "The Morning After.txt" begin> "The Morning After" By Traffic Guy Copyright 2002 As I tried to pry one eye open to see the clock on the bedside table, I once again wondered why in hell I had allowed myself to drink so much. The pounding in my skull, the aftertaste in my mouth, the ugly feeling in my stomach - gee, I guess I overdid it, huh? After a determined effort to focus, I found I could make out the red numbers (how appropriate!) - 11:16. Since it was light out, it had to be in the morning. That was a bit of a surprise... There was movement and a moan behind me. Uh, oh. I don't remember having a roommate. The moan sounded vaguely feminine - okay, it wasn't one of my football buddies I invited over to get an early start watching games today. Now, the big question. Do I look first? Or do I slide out, escape to the bathroom, do some things to wake me up and make me look (and smell) a little more presentable? Curiosity won out. I gradually turned over to see who, or what, was in bed next to me. Now, before I go on with this, I want you to understand that I'm not in the habit of picking up girls at bars. In fact, while I'm not celibate, I'm not really in the habit of picking up girls at all. I tend to try to get to know someone I see on a regular basis, become friends and then move on to the 'finer' things for a while before something changes and we end up parting, usually friends again, always amicably. And I'm not above revisiting some of these 'friendships' from time to time to our mutual satisfaction. But I NEVER do things like that on a haphazard basis. Drinking to oblivion is a very rare thing for me, and when it happens, it's either with my football buddies or alone. So waking up with a hangover and a girl is something that just doesn't happen. Until now. So now I'm looking at a mass of blonde, tussled hair and an indeterminate shape under my comforter. "Ahem." No reaction. "Uh, hello there." "Mmph." Okay, a response, albeit not much of one, and still not enough to find out what I'm looking at. So I reach out for what should be a shoulder and try a more direct approach. "Listen, wake up. Who are you and how did you get here?" "Ohmygod," came the slurred response. Definitely female and, apparently, as hung over as I was. "Yeah, ohmygod indeed," was my witty response. "Uh, do you need to..." "Whereisit?" came the moaning reply, "I feel like..." "Through the door in front of you," I barely got out before the shapeless mass disappeared and a nude, definitely female shape scrambled into the bathroom, apparently in time to spew into my toilet bowl - I hoped. While the blonde was taking care of business in my lone facility, I started taking stock of my condition. As usual, while definitely hung over, my stomach was behaving. Dad always said I had a cast iron stomach, just like him. Nice to see I got that set of genes. So, while I wouldn't mind getting in the shower and shaving, etc., there was no pressing need. It appeared to be just as well, as from the sounds I was hearing, blondie would be worshipping the porcelain god for a while. Okay, now what? Since there was a pause in the retching, I ventured to obtain a little more information. "Miss, is there something I can get you? And could you tell me your name?" After a couple spits, the shaky voice replied, "I'm Rita, and, I think a cold washcloth would help." "It's right..." I was about to say it was right above her, but realized she was asking because she didn't think she could move far enough to get it herself. Oh, well, I needed to see the damage sooner or later, and despite my sensitivity to her condition (i.e. nude and helpless), I really didn't mind being somewhat forced to get a better look at my guest. Even hunched over the bowl, I could tell Rita was a good-looking gal. Legs shapely and tight, ass firm and smooth, stomach fairly flat (from what I could see) and a nice, moderate and solid looking pair of tits hanging just before the bowl, or, at least, the right one was, which is the one I could see as I came in. So she obviously kept herself in shape. Blonde hair on top, although with darker roots - a bleached or bottle blonde. I noticed that she had made it in time as I grabbed the washcloth and wetted it down with cold water. I reached down and touched her hand with it. Without looking up, she took it and wiped her face with it, then asked "Is it clean?" I told her it was there for guests and hadn't been used, so she put it in her mouth and sucked on it. "Thanks," she mumbled, "that helps a lot." "Do you have any special hangover remedies I could put together for you?" "No, not really." Then a little wryly, "believe it or not, this is my first one." I held back a laugh, trying to be polite. "So, was it worthit?" "Ask me that in a couple days..." "If you don't mind, I'm going into the kitchen to clean up and..." I was going to mention fixing myself some food, but decided against it... "get some things ready for later today." "Of course. Uh, Mr. Barclay?" Interesting, at least she knew my name... "Tom, please, given the circumstances." "Tom, could you find my clothes, please?" "Oops, sorry. Be right back." I went into the bedroom and started poking around. Nothing. Ditto in the kitchen. In the living room I found a coat that wasn't mine on the back of a chair, and then, in the entranceway, a pile of clothing. A small pile of clothing. A very small pile of clothing. As in, a lacy bra, thong panties and a couple of black thigh high stockings. Oh yeah, and a pair of high heels, also black, and very shiny. Where the hell was I last night and who the hell was Rita? Back to the bedroom I went, carrying the panties and bra, and headed for the closet, where I pulled out one of my long sleeve patterned work shirts and then rummaged in a drawer for a pair of my baggier shorts. "How's it going in there?" I asked, just to kind of keep things moving along. "Better," came the reply in a slightly stronger voice. "I'm going to try to stand up at the sink." "Do you want me there, just in case...?" "No, no, that's alright. If I feel faint I'll just go right back on the floor." I heard movement, then the tap turned on and I could hear signs of her using the washcloth, then apparently gargling some water and spitting it out. "There's mouthwash in the cabinet." "Thanks. Could you hand me my clothes, please?" I walked over to the door, for some unknown reason averting my eyes, and handed her the bundle I'd put together. After a moment, I heard her gasp, and then, a sigh. "Oh. Thank you very much." "You're most welcome. When you feel up to it, I'll be in the living room. We appear to have a lot to talk about." "Yes," came the quiet reply, "Yes, we do." ------------------------------------------ After about ten minutes she came out, looking fairly chipper and filling out my shirt and shorts rather nicely. Nice, pretty face with brown eyes, the hair combed out and down over her shoulders. She looked about my age, 30ish, and, as I mentioned before, obviously kept herself in good shape. We sat in separate chairs facing the sofa, although it seemed Rita glanced at it (longingly?) as she passed by. I had had some time to try to reconstruct my memory of the night before, but only had some bits and pieces. What I seemed to remember was... different. I mean, I had images of a private football party at Bill's house for the Ohio State/Michigan game. That in itself wasn't so different. What was different was that Bill apparently had arranged for some 'extra' entertainment - in the form of Rita. Which was shocking in itself, as I had known Bill and Lisa for a long time (Lisa was a 'friend' before marrying Bill), and I'd never had any indication that he had that kind of interest, or connections. I mean, there we were, the two of us, in his den watching the game on his big screen TV (which is why we always watched it there), and halftime comes, and instead of Lisa bringing out drinks and food, here comes Rita. I seem to remember her doing a bump and grind, starting out in more clothes than what ended up in my apartment, and Bill toasting the action with bourbon (I of course, being a good guest, tried to keep up), and that's about as far as my memory went. There was also the impression that my Buckeyes won, which would explain my drinking enough to be in the condition I was upon awakening. Nothing else seemed to stick. So, here we were, a pretty blonde 'entertainer' and a usually cautious bachelor about to take part in a 'morning after' discussion. "So, Rita, why are you here?" Okay, okay, blunt and almost rude, but hey, I never said I was a charmer. "I'm here because you invited me here. Don't you remember?" "No, I don't. It's not that I don't believe you, it's just that this isn't like me..." "I know," came the soft answer, and I saw an interesting look in her eyes. "Just how much do you know? And since you know my last name, could I know yours?" "Bill and Lisa filled me in on a lot of things, especially Lisa. And my last name is Matthews." Something tickled a deep memory. I waited a moment for it to take hold, but it didn't. Something didn't quite match up. Meanwhile, I had a delayed reaction to the earlier part of her statement. "Lisa filled you in? On what?" She actually blushed. "Your tendencies and preferences, of course." "You mean," I stammered, "my sexual preferences?" "Yes." What the hell is going on here? "Why would she do that?" "So that I would be sure to do a good job..." "Lisa and Bill set me up with a, a...." "NO." Defiantly. "I am NOT a hooker." "Well, then, what are you?" She looked away for a moment, then looked directly into my eyes and said, "You were wonderful last night." "Bullshit!" Well, now you know I was not in my right mind. I mean, if I was normal, I would have gladly accepted that statement from any girl and looked for ways to be 'wonderful' again today. But today seemed to not be my day for acting normally. "Look, I know how much I had to drink and I know my capabilities. There is no way..." "That you could get it up. I know. You didn't. But, all the same, you were wonderful. Even drunk, you weren't sloppy or mean, you were nice and considerate, you held me and cuddled me and made me feel safe." She took a moment and licked her lips. "And I'd like to thank you for that." Sproing! Another party heard from. My mind was still turning over questions and possibilities and fighting to maintain my 'normal' attitudes towards relationships. However, my dick was a lot more interested in those glistening lips, and another pair of lips hidden behind those baggy shorts. If the plan was to weaken me for this moment, it worked. I rose, both body and cock, and slowly made my way to her. She was moving almost in sync, and we met in front of the sofa. We moved together as one, with arms surrounding each other. She looked up, I looked down, our eyes locked, and our lips moved toward each other, slowly, inevitably, meeting, then merging, lightly at first, then with increased pressure. Her tongue snaked out and mine moved to meet it, to dance and play, more and more vigorously as the minutes passed. Soon we found ourselves on the sofa, her left hand behind my head, her right hand traveling down to touch and fondle my cock through my pants. My hands were similarly involved, my left cupping her right breast, and my right cupping her ass, also, for the moment, covered by cloth. Time passed, and clothes seemed to remove themselves, almost of their own accord. My tongue engaged other morsels - the back of her ear, the hollow of her throat, the valley between her breasts. Her moans and actions encouraging me, asking me for more. I spent time on her breasts, holding, lifting, caressing, and finally, licking. Her nipples extended, her breathing ragged, my stomach getting damp as it was pressed against her slit. I stopped for a moment and looked again in her eyes, those now glistening brown pools that seem to caress me themselves. Somehow the message was sent and received, and I lifted her in my arms and carried her into the bedroom. Using one arm to drag away the sheet and comforter, I laid her down with her head on a pillow, reaching up and splaying her hair so that it surrounded her like a halo. Again I took a moment to gaze upon her, wondering at the feelings coursing through me. Then I bent to my mission once again, to give this woman something of those feelings I had. Down, down my tongue traveled, tracing lines around, and into her navel, then moving onward. Her hands were now on my head, caressing, asking, but not demanding - not yet. Finally, I was there, at first licking everything except her clit and lips. Then, moving from high on her thigh, I took one long swipe up through her lips and across her clit. Her reaction was amazing, as she arched her hips and screamed. I waited. When she could focus again, her eyes showed amazement. So, in fact, did mine. This was already one of the best experiences of my life, sex or otherwise, and it was just beginning! Again, I bent down, this time working slowly in and around those lips, tasting the nectar I had drawn from her. Her hands started to become a little more demanding, and I followed her lead, licking and plunging my tongue when and where she guided me. This time, we could both feel it build up in her, as I placed one hand on her breast, tweaking a nipple, and the other hand just above her clit, placing some pressure on the hood as I licked her clit from below. This one came as a release, and she relaxed into it, allowing the waves to wash through her, enjoying the spasms, which continued for almost a minute. Once the spasms were through, her eyes focused on me again, this time with a feral look in them. She licked her lips and suddenly, she was in control. Almost without thought, our positions and roles were reversed, and she was the one using her tongue and hands on me as it was now my head on the pillow. She followed the same trail I did, spending less time on my nipples but more time around my groin, teasing me as I had her. Finally, she raised her head, and, looking me square in the eye, engulfed my cock in her mouth, her hands sliding and twisting on the part of my pole that was outside. This time it was me who screamed as I came, spurting and jerking helplessly. As I slowly regained my senses, she slid up my body, back into my arms. We shared a kiss, neither of us caring about anything other than sharing our passion with each other. After the kiss, she slid her head onto my chest, dragged the sheet up over us, and laying almost on top of me, turned her eyes up one last time. Gazing into each other's eyes, the message was again sent and received... now was a time for relaxing and regaining strength. We both knew there would be more, but were content with that knowledge for the moment, and soon we were asleep. ---------------------------------- This time when I awoke, there was a different taste in my mouth, and I was relaxed and content, not hung over and annoyed. Rita's head was still on my chest, and her body was still molded to mine. Her tousled blonde hair wasn't a surprise this time, it was something to enjoy, and I reached up and caressed it. She stirred, hugged me tightly for a moment, and then looked up and into my eyes, those brown orbs showing the same contentment I knew was showing in mine. It may seem strange, but sex didn't seem to be important at the moment. Holding and lightly caressing each other felt wonderful, and complete. After awhile we started talking about things, light topics at first, telling each other amusing stories, chatting about movies we'd seen, books we'd read. Things seemed to move in a natural progression, as we got up, showered together with caresses, but not with passion, got dressed (a t-shirt and another pair of shorts for her, and the same for me), and headed into the kitchen. It was almost scary for a moment, as we seemed to be able to work together without consciously trying, putting together a lunch-like meal, even though, by that time, it was four o'clock and we hadn't even had breakfast. We sat and ate, companionably, content to be near each other, not in any hurry, but not dawdling either. We finished, cleaned up together, again working together easily, each grabbed a cup of tea that had been freshly brewed, and headed into the living room. We settled onto the sofa, sighed in sync, giggled at each other and took a sip of tea. "I was set up, wasn't I?" I started. "Apparently so, and so was I," she replied. "I know you from somewhere, don't I?" "Yes and no. I'll give you a hint - it was in college, and you knew me through Lisa." And it clicked! Lisa's roommate Rita Matthews. Brown hair, brown eyes, seemed shy at the time, never made eye contact when I was around, not that I'd have noticed, and dressed plainly. To put it bluntly, a wallflower in spades, and someone I never would have bothered becoming 'friends' with. "Lisa's roommate, the shy, quiet one that no one ever noticed." "Yup," she smiled, "That's me!" "How in the world did Lisa get you to... wait, I want to hear the whole thing, beginning with what you've been doing and why." "Well, when I graduated, I headed to Iowa to take a teaching job." "Why Iowa?" "Because I couldn't stay around here." "Because..." With a twinkle in her eye she said, " Because you were here." "Oh." I got it. A big crush on Lisa's boyfriend, and she felt she had to get away because it hurt to much to be around someone who didn't know she existed. "I kept in touch with Lisa sporadically, never mentioning you, of course, but I get the feeling she knew. Last year I finished up my Masters and Lisa said I could do a lot better here than in Iowa, and I felt she was right. "So I got a job in administration at the high school and moved back here. "I still hadn't said anything about you, and neither did she, and since I knew she was married to Bob I guess I thought that you were long gone and it was 'safe' to come back." "You mean..?" "Yes, even after eight years, I was still carrying a torch. Pretty sad, huh?" She looked at me with that twinkle in her eye and started to take sip, which she almost sprayed in my face when I muttered "Thank god!" After she calmed down and swallowed, she proceeded with her tale. "Lisa and I started getting together, and she took it upon herself to give me a life. Oh, we weren't exactly bar-hopping or anything, but she had me go to aerobic classes with her, to the hairdressers, to the mall to shop for clothes, and to take dancing classes." "Belly-dancing classes?" She smirked, "I guess I didn't waste my money, after all." Another sip. "Then one day she took me aside after one of those classes and said, 'You're really good at this. How about showing off those moves?' Of course, I was shocked, scandalized, put out, you name it. But, there was also a tingle inside. And I think Lisa knew it. "She kept after me, and finally told me there would be a perfect opportunity in just a couple of days. Bob always had a buddy over to watch the Michigan/Ohio State game. I could be the halftime entertainment! I already knew Bob, and there would be only one other person to see me. Limited exposure in a 'safe' environment." She smiled at me, and we leaned together for a slow, easy kiss. As our lips parted, she murmured, "'Safe', my eye." "When did you realize it was me?" "Just after I got there. It was early in the game, and Lisa said it would be about 45 minutes before halftime, but I should go ahead and get prepared. We had gone shopping the day before and Lisa had talked me into - well, you've seen most of it today. How much do you remember?" "I remember a hot looking blonde wearing tight clothes that started coming off in what, to my untrained eye (she grinned), was a highly professional manner. I also remember Bob clapping and whistling while pouring me more bourbon, and me joining in. Again, my memory is still blurry, as I don't usually drink a lot. I think the top was red and the skirt, what there was of it, was black and very, very tight." "Oh, it was tight, and so was I! As I turned to go up to change, I glanced into the room and saw the back of your head. And I knew! I knew without a shadow of a doubt it was you, and immediately turned to Lisa and said 'what the hell is Tom doing here?' She matter of factly told me you were Bob's buddy and always there for football, since they had the big screen TV. "I told her I couldn't do it and turned to go, but she grabbed me, pulled me upstairs into the bedroom, closed the door, and starting working on me. "You can do this," she told me, "You need to do this. He won't even know it's you." "True enough," I said, grinning. "I take it she wore you down." "She did more than that. She started telling me this was a chance to do what I'd wanted to do all along - to make a play for you, to let it all hang out for one afternoon. And that whatever happened, I would be okay, because you would never know it was me. That argument started to sway me. "Then I started getting nervous. Would I be able to pull this off? "Lisa said she could solve that one, too. She and Bob had decided to give you bourbon instead of beer, and that it would probably help if I had a couple of shots, too." We grinned at each other. "Well, it seemed to make sense at the time!" "Okay, you were juiced up, I was juiced up, I vaguely remember the game ending with Ohio State winning, but then it's pretty much a blank until this morning. I gather from your earlier comment - you know, the one I said 'bullshit' to? - that you still were somewhat aware. How did we get here?" "Bob and Lisa drove us over. It was obvious you were in no shape to drive anywhere, and Lisa, bless her soul, continued to pour insidious little ideas into my head, which wasn't all that clear at the time, continuing along the line of 'it's perfect. You can have your way with him, have a memory you'll never forget and he'll never know.' Then she proceeded to tell me what would turn you on, and what you liked to do. Of course, I bought it like it was on sale. I was ready and willing to do anything at that point. "So they brought us up, Bob dumping you in the bed after stripping you, and Lisa helping me take my clothes off right inside the door and waiting for Bob to come out, with me wearing just the coat. After Bob went down to the car, Lisa helped me take the coat off, folded it over the chair, walked me into the bathroom first (god, I was shameless), and then had me slide in next to you in the bed. You rolled over towards me, mumbled something like 'hi sweetie, you feel good,' folded your arms around me and went right back to sleep." "I wasn't holding you this morning, though." "I think we each got up a couple times in the night to go to the bathroom, and I guess after the last one we didn't cuddle." She smiled again, and we both sipped our tea, which was almost gone. "Rita, will you marry me?" "Yes." -------------------------- We had the ceremony two months later, Bob as my best man and Lisa as matron of honor. The four of us get together often, going to ballgames, shows, picnics, and even Disney World (it'll probably be more fun with kids although we enjoyed Epcot). We also will definitely continue the tradition of the Ohio State/Michigan game, with both Rita and Lisa showing off their dancing skills at halftime, and Bob and I intending to be in a lot better shape to appreciate it. Oh yes, and Rita's final answer to the question 'Was it worth it?' - "Hell, yes!" <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. The post was sent as an email attachment and has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software. ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ ------- ASSM Moderation System Notice-------- This post has been reformatted by the ASSM Moderation Team due to inadequate formatting. -- 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> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+