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Message-ID: <40304asstr$1041786604@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: anais ninja <anais_ninja@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Exile - A Preview - (Mf mf tg oral drugs)
Date: Sun,  5 Jan 2003 12:10:04 -0500
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Exile (A Preview)
Copyright 2003 Anais Ninja  anais_ninja@hotmail.com


This is just a teaser, a taste of a work-in-progress, part of a
sequel to "Wanderings", an earlier autobiographical work.  The
following takes place a little over a year after the end of
"Wanderings". 


                                  * * *

It was just beginning to snow again when the sedan pulled up to the
curb.  The window rolled down with an electric moan, and even across
the sidewalk I could feel the heater.  The driver looked over and
beckoned me with a tilt of the head, but I had already started
crossing the sidewalk.  I knew why he'd pulled over. 

"Got the time?" I asked him as I leaned through the window.  I'd
been standing in the cold for nearly an hour; I would have done him
for just ten minutes in his overheated car. 

"Yeah," he said, taking a closer look at me.  The electric door
latch unlocked with a thump and I climbed into the passenger seat. 
I got a brief glimpse of him when I opened the door: fiftyish,
balding, overweight, but with a neatly trimmed beard and wearing a
nice suit.  The car smelled of cologne and cigarettes, not at all
unpleasant  compared to some of the cars I'd been in over the past
few months. 

"How old are you?" he asked.

"How old do you think I am?"

"Sixteen?"

"Yup," I said.  I was really fourteen, but I'd learned the customer
was always right. 

He grunted, sort of a cross between a "huh" and a clearing of the
throat, and then shifted in his seat.  I knew the next thing out of
his mouth would be "I've got a daughter your age". 

"I've got a daughter your age," he said.  The look in his eyes said
that this was worth at least an extra $25, even for a hand job. 

"Drive," I said.  "Cops're gonna be along any second."

He put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb.

"Where?" he said.

"What do you want?"  I knew plenty of quiet alleys and parking lots,
good enough for a BJ or a quick jack, but if he wanted anything more
we'd have to go to the rooming house on East Springfield Street.  I
had a deal with the owner there. 

"Just um...just a...," he stammered.

"Head?"

"Yeah."

"Sixty.  Up front."

"Okay," he said.

"Take the next right, then a left on Thayer Street.  There's a
parking lot on the left, about halfway down the block." 

Five minutes later we pulled into the unpaved lot, shielded from the
brooding row of lofts by a van.  Over the purr of the car's engine I
could hear a band rehearsing somewhere. 

"Here," he said, pulling three $20 bills from his wallet.

"Push the seat back," I said.  He reached down between the seat and
the door and toggled an unseen switch.  The front seat eased away
from the dashboard with an electric whine. 

"What's your name?" he asked as he undid his belt and trousers.

"Lita," I said, lying.  My friend Cami told me never to use my own
name.  I'd chosen the name of a guitar player I liked, Lita Ford
from the Runaways. 

"Rita?"

"No, Lita."

"Lolita?"

"Close enough," I said, reaching between his legs to fish his penis
out of his boxer shorts.  As I kneaded his half-erection he cupped
my breasts through my blouse, gently squeezing them.  It was a
gesture purely for his own benefit; I felt his cock growing in my
fingers as he fondled my tits.  When he was hard I leaned over into
his lap and took him in my mouth.  He smelled a bit funky -- sweaty,
musky, a middle-aged man's smell -- but I'd smelled worse.  His cock
tasted faintly of urine but, again, I'd tasted worse.  As I began to
suck him I felt his hand roaming under my skirt, coming to rest on
my bottom. 

"Suck me," he muttered under his breath, "Suck it.  Suck that cock,
baby.  Yeah, suck me..."  He was a Talker.  Some Talkers gave me the
creeps, especially when they'd start to pretend I was someone they
knew, a friend or co-worker for instance.  I'd wonder what movie was
playing inside their heads.  A snuff film, perhaps? 

But most Talkers were benign, content to spin their little narrative
while I serviced them, muttering a play-by-play they could recall
later while they furtively jerked off in the office or the car. 
Nearly half the men I'd pleasured had been Talkers to some degree,
from those who'd repeat "Aw, yeah" incessantly to men who referred
to "that cock" and "those balls" with such detachment that it seemed
as if their brain and mouth were entities separate from their
bodies. 

This guy was somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, grunting and
sighing when I bathed his cock with my tongue, and repeating "suck
me" while my head bobbed in his lap.  His penis was circumcised,
stubby and thick, with a hard shaft and spongy head that barely
reached the back of my throat. 

The squeaking of the seat springs began to get louder; I knew he was
getting close.  His hand was now inside my panties, cupping my ass,
and his monologue had tapered off into heavy breathing punctuated by
the occasional "suck".  As I briskly sucked him I could feel his
thighs tensing and relaxing through his trousers, his stomach
heaving, his penis twitching in my mouth.  Suddenly he groaned and
tightened his grip on my ass as the first spurt of semen shot from
his cock.  It was cloyingly sweet, something I hadn't expected, but
there was no way I could spit it out.  I choked back his second and
third spurt, swallowing hard.  He relaxed, sinking back into the car
seat and releasing his grip on my ass as he let out a deep breath. 

I released his softening penis from my mouth and sat up, brushing
the hair from my face.  Flipping down the visor, I checked my makeup
in the vanity mirror.  

"Cigarette?"  He flipped open the pack and offered me one.

"Thanks."  I finished reapplying my lipstick and took a cigarette,
letting him light it for me. 

"Can I give you a lift back downtown?"

"No thanks.  Just drop me at the corner."


                                  * * *


The hiss of steam heat and the smell of boiled cabbage greeted me as
I walked into the foyer.  I trudged down the flight of stairs that
led to the basement and let myself into the apartment.  The smell of
gumbo simmering on the stove overpowered the neighbor's cabbage.  I
shrugged off my coat and hung it up in the closet. 

Cami was stretched out on the living room couch, gazing at the
television from under hooded eyes, half of an unlit joint in her
hand.  When she saw me come in she folded her legs, making room for
me on the couch. 

"Delia's sleeping," she said, bringing the joint to her lips and
fumbling with a pack of matches. 

"She working tonight?" I asked, fishing in my bag for my lighter.  I
handed it to her, tugging at her legs and pulling them on to my lap.
 She was wearing a short yellow silk kimono that set off her milk
chocolate complexion. 

"Two shows," Cami replied, passing the joint.  "You have dinner
yet?" 

"Nothing but coffee and cum since breakfast."

"Dee made gumbo."

"I know.  Smells good."  I passed the joint back to her and kicked
off my boots, exhaling a cloud of pot smoke that glowed blue in the
light of the television.  I settled back into the plush cushions of
the old couch, absentmindedly caressing Cami's smooth legs.  She
must have just shaved and moisturized; her skin felt as smooth as
her silk kimono. 

"Mmmm...that feels good, Annie," she whispered.  I leaned over and
laid my head on her hip as my caresses progressed up her thigh.  As
Cami began to gently stroke my hair, I parted her kimono and exposed
her beautiful cock, half-hard and freshly shaved.  I pursed my lips
and lightly blew on it, making it stir and twitch between her
shapely thighs.  Cami had only been on hormones for a few months;
her cock and balls hadn't atrophed like Delia's.  And unlike Delia,
who looked to be between thirty and fifty depending on her makeup,
Cami was sixteen.  Despite her delicate facial features and budding
breasts, she still had a teenaged boy's libido.  Erect early, erect
often. 

And erect she was.  She softly sighed as I parted my lips and let
her cock enter my mouth.  Cami tasted clean, a trace of soap and
skin cream on her shaft.  Unlike the previous nine blowjobs I'd
given that day, six in cars, two in the hallways of buildings, and
one in an alley, this one was done slowly, carefully, lovingly.  

Cami parted her legs slightly, letting me roll over on my belly
between them.  Propping myself up on my elbows, I held her shaft
with one hand and her balls with the other, guiding her spear back
between my lips.  Cami began to slowly rock her hips in time with
the motion of my head between her legs.  Her hardness tensed and her
balls twitched every time I swirled my tongue over her shaft.  I
looked up and watched her hooded eyes begin to close and her
expression begin to slacken as whatever pills she took before I got
home began to take effect.  I sucked her faster, hoping to make her
come before she passed out. 

Cami's eyes opened again and she smiled at me as she tugged at my
shoulder, pulling me up from between her legs.  I released her
glistening cock, letting it flop against her thigh.  Cami reached
for the zipper in back of my skirt, pulling it down.  I wriggled my
hips, letting the skirt fall around my knees before stepping out of
it.  Skinning off my panties, I knelt over Cami's reclining form,
reaching for her hardness and guiding it inside me. 

As I drew Cami's cock inside me I could hear Delia waking from her
nap, padding from her bedroom to the bathroom.  The door closed as I
pulled my sweater over my head, water running while Cami fumbled
with the clasp of my ratty old bra, toilet flushing as Cami's hands
found my breasts, fingers pinching my nipples as our hips ground
together and apart.  As our pace grew faster I could hear the
bathroom door open again, Delia's footsteps getting closer, each
step out of time with our thrusts. 

"Don't be staining my couch, y'hear?" Delia said, throwing a towel
between me and Cami.  She stood next to us, her long red silk robe
tied loosely at the waist with a thin sash. 

"No, ma'am," Cami said.  She stopped thrusting inside me and lifted
her hips from the couch, sliding the towel under her ass before
falling back into the cushions.  She resumed her rhythm, our hips
rocking against each other.  I leaned over and kissed her, first on
her forehead, then on her nose, then on her full lips, teasing her
tongue out with my own.  I could hear Delia pawing through my purse. 

"It's in my coat, Delia," I said, breaking off my kiss.  "The
money's in my coat." 

"Uh huh," she muttered, padding off to the closet to get my coat. 
She returned with it a moment later and set herself down in one of
the overstuffed chairs next to the couch, watching us fuck while she
rummaged through my pockets.  She pulled out the wad of cash and
counted it as I turned my attention back to Cami, who was suckling
my breasts, lightly biting my nipples while I rode her hardness. 

"You need a new bra," Delia said, peeling a few bills off of the
cash I'd brought home and placing them on the coffee table.  Her
robe opened slightly when she stuffed the rest of the money in the
pocket, revealing her half-hard penis and small, hairless balls.  As
I leaned over and kissed her smooth ebony belly, Delia opened her
robe a bit more, her cock stirring slightly as I gently kissed it. 
I took her in my mouth as I rode Cami's hardness, feeling her expand
slightly but never really get as stiff as the cock I had mounted. 
Delia sighed and stroked my hair as I sucked her. 

This wasn't going to be one of those rare occasions when I could
make Delia come, filling my mouth with her thin semen despite her
years of hormone treatments.  That didn't mean that she couldn't
enjoy my blowjobs, though.  I had the feeling that this was the
reason she let me stay with her and Cami, besides the money I
brought home and the meals I sometimes cooked.  Every few weeks I'd
manage to suck her just right, to make her body shake, to make her
come.  Afterwards she'd hold me in her arms and rock me like a baby
until we fell asleep. 

This wasn't going to be one of those times.  Cami was close to
coming; I could feel her stiffen inside me, her hips rising off the
couch and lifting me up as she buried herself inside me.  A
particularly deep stroke began to set me off, making me release
Delia's penis with a sharp gasp.  She stepped back and began to
stroke her glistening spear as she watched us fuck on her couch. 

"Coming," Cami gasped, her cock throbbing inside me, pulsing as a
warm feeling spread through my pussy.  She grabbed my cheeks and
pulled me against her hips, our rhythm slowing and finally stopping.
 I was close to coming and I rocked my hips a few times in an effort
to feel the friction of Cami's softening shaft against my clit. 

"Finish me," I whispered in her ear.  I didn't need to say it; Cami
loved to lick her own cream from my sloppy sex.  Delia watched as we
changed positions, making sure we didn't stain the precious
upholstery on her thirty-year-old couch.  Cami was careful to keep
the towel under my dripping pussy as she laid me back on the couch
and ducked her head between my thighs.  I wondered if I'd come
before the pills kicked in -- more than once Cami had passed out
while we'd made love.  This time she managed to stay awake, licking
me clean and lashing my clit until I came.  I tugged on her shoulder
to let her know I'd had enough.  Cami looked up at me and smiled,
her eyelids heavy and half-closed. 

As Delia padded back to her bedroom to get dressed and Cami lay back
on the couch to doze off, I headed to the bathroom and filled the
tub with hot water and bath oil.  A few minutes later I was
stretched out in the old cast iron tub, letting the warm water chase
the lingering chill from my bones, a chill from another day spent on
the street sucking and fucking strangers for money. 


                                  * * *


Copyright 2003 Anais Ninja  anais_ninja@hotmail.com

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