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Message-ID: <41448asstr$1048482603@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: nickurfe@yahoo.com (Nicholas Urfe)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: 24 Mar 2003 00:36:39 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} cuyahoga.011 [urfe] [new]
Date: Mon, 24 Mar 2003 00:10:03 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

.
                                                  ::

                                            as falls cuyahoga,
                                      so falls cuyahoga falls

                                                  ::

Sunlight thick and brightly soaks the air, sharp spikes of it glaring
from the silvered frames of Saaka's sunglasses as she turns her head
the oiled skin of her gleaming like some rare soft metal as she bends
over hands gripping the railing shining like solid light hissing from
the heat of it as Torvald's hands take hold of her shoulders one thumb
thick along the terribly narrow ridge that folds into her throat
arcing up and back sunlight striking off those sunglasses again as she
chuckles, mmm, oh. What are you waiting for.

Sunlight like a brassy haze condensing into molten sweat oozing down
his back as he lifts one hand from her shoulder down to her hip a thin
pale line of flesh there crossing it the width of his finger blurred a
little separating golden flank from golden thigh and all of it
sunsoaked glistening as one foot then the other on the rough hot
concrete spreading her legs his thumb dipping under between them
finding the fingers of one of her hands already there as he steps a
little closer, grinning, eyes fixed on the puddles of light gleaming
on her bare back as his thumb and her fingers slide his cock muffled
in thin blue latex socked its head neatly just inside the pursed lips
of her cunt. She hisses again, half-laughing.

They begin to move.

There on the edge of the concrete bunker beneath the sweep of the
great white dish. Drowning in a torrent of sunlight away from the
sharp-edged shadows of complex gantrywork netting the dusty sand
below, the flat oblong of the dish's shadow lapping at the base of the
next concrete bunker, and the next, and the next. A desert field full
of them, great bone-white ears all canted up at the same angle like
fat white sunflowers. All of them baking in that monstrous light.
Torvald's hair struck to white his head floating still in the thick
air his hips stroking knees bucking hands braced on her shoulders back
working in and out and in as Saaka stands firmly hands gripping the
waist-high rail elbows shivering as she catches his weight and again
and again. Groaning. The groan sliding into words, oh, oh fuck me,
fucking, fuck. You cock-smoking fuck. You want it in my ass. You want
him in your ass, that's what you want. You shit. Fuck me! Dammit. I
can barely feel that. You cock-smoker. You want his goddamn prick
right now, if he, hanh, oh, shit. If he climbed up here you'd pull out
of me, you'd pull out of me and go over on your knees, you'd fuck me
you'd pull down his shorts right there and start sucking his dick, you
would, you would, you fucking faggot, come on! Fuck me! Like you mean
it, faggot! Come on! Damn! Shit! Come on! Oh, fuck! fuck! fuck! Unh!

He pulls back but not out, straightening up above her as head down
hand on the slick hot metal bar she drags in deep breaths her back her
belly her thighs quivering. Her long straight thin black hair pulling
loose from its simple tie, hanging limp in that thick and light-soaked
air about her face. God damn, she says, pushing back from the bar, but
he plants his hand on the middle of her back. I'm not done, he says.

She grins, looking over her shoulder at him. I'm game, she says. I
guess maybe you like my pussy after all oh shit! Her hand slips off
the rail as he plows into her and she stumbles forward catching
herself with her chest her armpit as he steps back oh, fuck, I'm sorry
-

Shit, she says, levering herself groaning off the bar.

One hand up to wipe sweat from his bare eyes his blued cock bobbing
slick and shining in the light, I'm sorry. I didn't -

I'm gonna have a bruise, she says, standing up. We're lucky I didn't
just tumble right off and take you with me.

I'm sorry, he says, again.

Hey! says Jackson Cuyahoga from somewhere below and not too near.

No blood, says Saaka, looking out into the distance through her
sunglasses, no foul.

Save something for the General, says Jackson, one hand on the railing
of the steep staircase leading up to them. You little perverts.

Out where the yellow desert field runs smack into a low and tumbled
wall of dark brown rock a milky cloud of dust lofts up from something
moving quickly.

Shit, says Saaka. Showtime.

Torvald lays his thumb along the length of his still-upright cock.
Wraps it with fingers, gently. It will, he says, take him another ten
or fifteen minutes to get here.

Saaka smiling sunlight spiking off her sunglasses as she turns to
smirk at Torvald, black hair hanging limp, sunbeaten. You like my
pussy so much, is that it?

It's not that, says Torvald, squatting on the concrete. Get over here,
he says. On your hands and knees.

Faggot, says Saaka, grinning, turning her back to him. Getting down on
her knees.

Saaka shrieks as the Land Rover jerks to a stop and she's sent
lurching shoulders and head to thump against the back of Jackson's
seat. An oblique lozenge of light from a streetlamp slides across her
grinning face and down the front of her simple yellow sundress as she
sits up again and leans down hair almost invisible in the darkness
slithering from her shoulders to rain against Torvald kissing him.
Your stop, says Jackson.

Clomping with a giggle in her big black boots half-falling out of the
Land Rover Saaka has her sunglasses in one hand and something else
wadded up in the other. Leaning heavily one shoulder against the side
of the Land Rover Saaka unwads it and shakes out a small black panel a
flash of white waistband catching it with the thumb of her other hand
leaning over to stretch it wide and lifting wrestling one big boot and
then the other through and pulling up her bare legs flashing pale in
the street light her underwear. Smoothing the skirt of her sundress
with her now-empty hand. A fresh red scrape mars one knee. Saaka blows
a kiss backing away up to one of a row of metal and brick stoops built
into an old loading dock. Warm lamplights and flickering television
colors shine through old glass brick walls.

Torvald in the back seat of the Land Rover runs the fingers of one
hand against his jeans his zippered fly just audible over the thrum of
the idling motor. I wish you wouldn't do that, says Jackson in the
front seat, putting the car in gear. Pulling away into the maze of
one-way streets, lurching to a stop at a red light. Not in front of me
like that, for fuck's sake, says Jackson.

It's a long low room at the bottom of the house lit dimly by three, no
four bright spots of halogen desklamps on this table or that shelf or
precariously perched on the stack of books by the rumpled king-sized
bed. Two laptops sprawl half-open one on the pillows one on the sheets
at the foot of the bed. A long aluminum table holds four monitors in a
rack and a couple of CPUs. One of the monitors is live, melting one
image into the next of a screensaver. A young man pale and wiry hair
down to his shoulders in only a ripped black T-shirt looks down
smoking a cigarette at the naked man rings on his thumbs and pinkie
kneeling to take his pale cock in his mouth. An older man, shaved
bald, skin burned dark in a harsh white light, stares down past the
ripples of his folded gut at the cock lurching up from his leathery
lap.

Tell me about the General, says Jackson, somewhere outside in the
hall.

Oh, he was a piece of work, says Torvald, backing into the room.
Pulling his baggy grey T-shirt over his head and tossing it onto the
floor.

Tell me about him, says Jackson, undoing the last button of his worn
white workshirt and whipping it off into a corner.

He wanted me. He didn't want Saaka at all. Lifting his chin Torvald
leans back as Jackson swarms in to kiss his throat. He didn't even
look at Saaka. He wanted me.

He wanted your cock, says Jackson, unsnapping Torvald's jeans.

He wanted my cock. He wanted my cock. He followed me into the office
and told me I was a beautiful boy. Torvald groans as Jackson's hand
works its way under his waistband, surfacing then the head of his cock
gleaming in the dim light between thumb and forefinger.

A beautiful boy, says Jackson with a chuckle. Get these pants off. Get
naked, you beautiful boy. Jackson kicks his shoes off, snaps one of
the laptops closed. Get on the bed, he says. Shucking off his pants.
Setting the laptop on them. Lie back, he says. Lie back. Spread your
ass. I want your ass. Squirting a palmful of something clear from a
clear tube.

What, says Torvald, lying back. Knees up heels knuckling into rucked
sheets. His thin cock pale yearning up along his belly flat. No
preliminaries? His hands on the cheeks of his ass. Lifting his hips.
The middle finger of his right hand rubbing his puckered whorl.
Slipping inside. He smiles.

Do we need preliminaries? says Torvald, stroking his erection lightly
glistening. Kneeling on the bed. Tell me about the General, he says,
his hands dark against the pale skin freckled with a sheen of fine
pale hairs there on the bottoms of Torvald's thighs. Lifting them a
little taking their weight as Torvald's bare feet lift into the air.
Rocking Torvald's hips up and back his thighs like levers as Torvald's
hands spread his ass there grunting. Oh, fuck, says Torvald, as
Jackson's naked cock worms its way in.

Tell me about the General, says Jackson. You beautiful boy. Ha. Hunh.

He wouldn't, says Torvald. Touch me. He told me to take off my clothes
while he watched. He wanted to watch.

You did?

I, oh. I did. I did. I stripped for him while he watched. He couldn't
take his eyes off me.

You were hard?

I was hard. Oh, oh whoa. Um.

Talk to me. Talk to me.

I was hard. I walked up to him and I kissed him. I licked his lips
until he opened his mouth for me and I kissed him. He turned his head
away. He said no. He said no.

You want a pillow?

Yes. Hang on - Torvald reaches up for a pillow as Jackson leans on one
hand. Angling his hips up Torvald plants his heels and lifts as
Jackson takes the pillow folded double and works it under Torvald's
hips. I, um, says Torvald as Jackson works his arms under Torvald's
knees lifting, hup, Torvald's feet dangling over Jackson's back as he
lurches forward Torvald gasping, unh, oh, Jesus, fuck, Jesus, come on,
come on. Torvald's cock bouncing, slapping his belly. Oh. Oh.

Talk, says Jackson, thrusting, his balls bouncing against Torvald's
cheeks juddering, to me, talk. To me. Talk.

He, oh. He got on his knees, says Torvald. He got on his knees and
blew me. He gobbled me up. My hand on his, his scalp. His skull.
Grabbing his jacket. I came and he didn't stop. He let it run out of
his mouth. I could, oh. Could feel it sliding down my cock. And he
didn't stop. I couldn't stop. I was still. I was still hard. He kept
sucking me. His hand on my belly. Jesus. Oh. His finger in my ass,
hard. Dry. His hands on my hips, jerking. His teeth. His tongue. His
teeth scraping along the bottom of my cock. Oh. Oh shit. Fuck me. Come
on. Come on.

Talk to me, says Jackson. Eyes closed. Lips pursed.

I came again. I came twice in his mouth.

Jackson shudders, his head rolling back, his arms straining. Jerks,
snarling. God! Jerks again, as Torvald grunts.

Jackson panting, slumping, still inside him. Torvald smiling. I came,
he says. Twice. In his mouth. And he swallowed it all.

Jackson arches an eyebrow. Is that what you want? he says. Panting. To
come in my mouth?

I want to come, says Torvald, sitting up on one elbow reaching up to
pull Jackson's head down. Opening his mouth on Jackson's open mouth.
Kissing him. Kissing him. Leaning back now still on one elbow as
Jackson kisses his cheek bites at his chin licks his throat takes the
back of his head and pulls him up and in for another long licking
kiss. Then chuckling as Jackson's hand wraps around his cock.
Stroking.

He wants more? says Jackson, sitting up. Pulling back. But stroking.
The General?

Torvald lying back now closes his eyes, hands stretching up over his
head, belly pulling taut with a deep breath lifting his chest.
Smiling. Yes, he says. A whisper. Oh, yes. Yes. Yes.

On the computer screen, three men: the first white one on his knees,
the black one's cock buried in his yawning mouth. The second white one
behind the black one, groin glued to his hips, his teeth bared white
against the dark shoulder. Torvald's come arcing silvery white to
splat on his belly, his chest. A second jet of it smaller, briefer,
softly. Oozing into his navel. Smiling, eyes closed. Breathing deeply.

Jackson backs away on his knees down the bed. His cock wet and
softening, smaller. A thumb smeared with Torvald's come lifted to his
mouth and licked. Clean yourself up, says Jackson. Beautiful boy. He
laughs.

Torvald stretching sits up slowly.

Well? says Vanessa, there in the dark kitchen, her hands on Addison's
bared hips standing before her. Vanessa turns her head to nuzzle
Addison's ear. Go on, she murmurs into it. Suck him off. I want to
watch.

Mother! says Addison. Frowning. Leaning back shadowy against Vanessa.

I just, says Torvald, naked. Holding up an empty glass. A towel in the
other hand. Wanted some water, he says.

Go on, Addy, says Vanessa. Plucking at the zipper of Addison's
unbuttoned jeans. Her other hand stroking the bare stretch of
Addison's belly between heavy belt dangling open and the ragged hem of
a pale turtleneck cropped well above her navel. Addison's hands up
behind her head arms stretching up and shivering at Vanessa's touch. I
have a girlfriend, Addison says.

I could, says Torvald.

So? says Vanessa. That doesn't stop you from fucking me. Kissing
Addison's chin. Licking her lips as her hands slide under the sweater
to stroke Addison's breasts.

That doesn't stop you from fucking her, either, says Addison. Her
hands coming down to the base of her belly, fingers toying with the
teeth of her fly, the patch of dark-honey hair revealed. I'm gay, Mom,
says Addison. Kissing Vanessa.

And he fucks your father, says Vanessa. That doesn't stop him from
wanting you.

I, um, says Torvald.

He's just fucked Daddy, says Addison. He's all tuckered out. Vanessa's
hands come down out of Addison's sweater and together as they kiss
again they tug and pull at Addison's jeans, wrestling them down the
curve of her ass pressed back into Vanessa's groin framed by black
satin garters dangling loose at the tops of her bare thighs chased
with silver in the darkness. His balls are empty, says Addison.
Chuckling. But his ass is full.

Look, says Torvald, as Vanessa unhooks her thumb from Addison's jeans
and reaches out to lay a fingertip lightly on his swelling cock
bobbing to meet her touch. I don't know, says Vanessa. I think he's
ready for more.

I, um, says Torvald. Setting the glass on the counter. Really, I could
-

I don't want to suck his cock, says Addison. I don't want to suck
anybody's cock. Shoving her jeans down to the middle of her thighs
parting. Hips rolling forward shoulder back to nestle her head on
Vanessa's shoulder kissing Vanessa's throat as her hand traps
Vanessa's hand stroking it along the inside of her thighs. I want you.
I want your hands. A kiss between each sentence. I'm horny and I want.

Honey, says Vanessa putting her hands on Addison's shoulders pushing
her to take one step hobbled by her unpeeled jeans closer to Torvald,
if you want Mommy you're going to have to do what she says. I'm the
sexy best, remember? On the counter by the ghostly cloud of filmy
stocking-stuff an absurd lazy V of electric blue, thick and long. If
you, she says as she picks it up, don't suck him off, I'm going to
pack up my toys and go. She hefts it like a club and lifts it gently
brushing Addison's cheek with one bulbous tip. Torvald licks his lips
and does not look away. But if I like what I see, says Vanessa.

Mom, says Addison.

What time were you supposed to be home? says Vanessa.

Addison sighs. One, she says.

One o'clock in the morning, says Vanessa. And what time is it?

Half past two, says Torvald.

Shut up! from Vanessa and Addison almost at once. What time is it?
says Vanessa. Torvald looks away. The head of his cock bobs with the
motion, straining up towards the unlit lamp over the massive wooden
butcher's block in the middle of the dark kitchen.

Two thirty, says Addison, eyes closing. It's two thirty. She turns her
head slightly and brushes the tip of the electric blue dong with her
lips. Her hands are on Vanessa's hand, the hand that does not hold the
dong, the hand that slips into the darkness between Addison's thighs.
And you reek, says Vanessa. Of cigarette smoke and booze and someone
else's pussy.

Mom, says Addison. Licking the tip of the dong. Torvald smiles.

You were living it up at some party screwing a slutty cheerleader
leaving your poor mother at home all alone with nothing but my fingers
and Nadia's Sweet Revenge to keep me going. You owe me, little girl.

Addison unpeels her lips from the dong. Mom, she says. I was only.

Shh, says Vanessa. He wants you. He wants you to. Go on.

Mom, says Addison. I don't. I don't want. Vanessa kisses her opening
Addison's mouth with her tongue. Torvald drops the towel and leans
back against the counter. Go on, murmurs Vanessa into Addison's mouth.
The absurd blue double dong brushing Addison's bare belly. Addison
grabbing it, pulling it down. No, says Vanessa, pulling it away. Bend
over and blow him. Lick his cock. Make him come in your mouth. If I
like what I see. She touches Addison's lips with the dong. Addison
kisses it. Pretend it's a dildo, baby, says Vanessa. It's a strap-on
I'm wearing and you're licking it up before -

Mother, says Addison sharply, turning to look back at her. I am not -

Just, says Vanessa. Go. Pushing her gently. Torvald braces his hands
on the counter edge. Addison glares up at him. This does not mean, she
starts to say.

Oh, I know, he says.

Addison shoves her jeans down past her knees kicking her feet out of
her sandals and one bare foot yanked free steps on the jeans and
shoves them off the other foot kicked away. I have got, she mutters,
to get you to make up with Sam.

Go on, says Vanessa.

Addison dim light silvering coolly bare skin from the beneath the
cropped hem of her sweater down the curl of her belly bared hips bare
legs folding in a squat before Torvald naked one of her hands on his
hip the other the root of his cock. Bend over, baby, says Vanessa.
Don't stay down there. Get your little pussy up here where I can reach
it.

One hand braced on the counter edge now little finger brushing
Torvald's wrist Addison straightens her legs. This doesn't mean, she
says, glaring up at him.

Go on, he says. His eyes on Vanessa. Standing there one hand on
Addison's hip before her the other holding the long blue dong between
her breasts the tip of it still glistening brushes her chin. Her eyes
on him as Addison opens her mouth about the head of his cock.

Well? says Vanessa. Taking her hand from Addison's hip unbuckled
garters swinging to wrench aside the smokey lace of her g-string
baring her smooth bald cunt.

Not, says Torvald, not bad, as Addison's tongue licks around the head.
Her lips mime a bite at it. Hey, he says, grabbing her head with his
hands.

That's it, says Vanessa. Addison's hips jerk back towards Vanessa
yearning. The blue dong now between Vanessa's thighs her eyes still on
Torvald watching her cant her hips forward and up spreading the pale
lips of her cunt with the fingers of her other hand. Fuck her mouth,
says Vanessa.

Addison both hands braced on the counter now pushing back but
Torvald's hands on her head hold her in place her yell choked her eyes
squeezed shut as Torvald slides his cock deeper into her mouth and
deeper. Pulls it out. The blue dong pointing at the floor sliding into
Vanessa's cunt hissing a breath in as she reaches out and lays her
hand on Torvald's hands on Addison's head. That's it. That's it, baby.
Let him fuck your mouth. Go on. Go on. Addison eyes still squeezed
shut rocking back and forth in Torvald's grip her hand on his belly
rippled as he bends over her fingers digging nails into his skin there
leaving little red moon slices. Gah, says Torvald. Oh. Come on, says
Vanessa. Teeth, says Torvald, ow, teeth, baby, says Vanessa, stop it,
baby, just let him. Just let him. Mom likes what she sees. Oh. The
blue dong within her now, a deep breath. Mom likes what she sees,
baby. You're the sexy best. Vanessa both hands on the blue dong
dangling from her like some absurdly long cock twists the vertex of
its lazy V there between her thighs and it begins to buzz. Vanessa
tossing her hair back takes a shuddering breath. One hand on the dong
still buried within her lifting the free end the other on Addison's
hips, Addison's hips straining yearning back legs spreading as Vanessa
runs a thumb peeling open the outer lips of Addison's cunt there in
the dark the free tip of the buzzing blue dong sliding along the
length of her cunt weeping in the shadows. Addison moans around her
mouthful of Torvald's cock pumping faster now, faster.

Torvald looking up to see Vanessa half-smiling her eyes dark in the
shadows of her face looking back at him. I, he says.

On her face, says Vanessa. Hand firm on Addison's hips bucking pulling
the buzzing dong away as Addison shoves back against Torvald's belly,
oof. His cock popping out of her mouth glistening. He will not, she
says, as Vanessa's hand grabs her head as Torvald's hand grabs her
head his other hand around his spit-slick cock pumping once, twice. I
will not, snaps Addison, straining against them both as Torvald comes.

There isn't much. For a moment no one moves as they all stand there -
Vanessa bent over Addison the blue dong buzzing still from her cunt
its lazy V between Addison's spread thighs, Addison still bent at the
waist her hands still braced on the counter to either side of
Torvald's hips her head held down about his cock a pale second
moonstone of come oozing from the tip, Torvald leaning back now
looking up blowing a deep breath out of his mouth and taking another
in, his chest and belly shifting filling with air. He lets go of
Addison's head. Vanessa takes a step back. Addison swallows and
straightens up. Looks straight at Torvald expressionless. A smudge of
Torvald's come like a thick tear in the corner of one eye glistening
down the side of her nose as she lifts her hand to her face Vanessa
says No. Don't, baby.

Addison drops her hand and turns.

Vanessa eyes half-open dreamy beckons with one hand the other holding
the buzzing blue dong upright between her legs. Addison swarms at
Vanessa staggering her back arm wrapping around her to smack into the
refrigerator knocking it back a bottle toppling at the edge leaning
over and falling to smash on the floor beside them Vanessa licking the
come from Addison's face Addison jerking her hips lifting one bare
foot braced against the cabinet as her hand and Vanessa's hand work
the other end of the blue dong into her, inside. Addison throwing back
her head deep jagged breaths oh God oh God oh fuck come on baby, says
Vanessa, her eyes closed, her hand working that bunched-up V of
electric blue into both of them now, come on baby, as Addison shrieks
fuck fuck oh!

Torvald after a moment stoops to pick up the towel. His empty glass.
The two of them sinking to their knees Vanessa down on her back as
Addison straddling over her scissoring thighs jackknifing knees
already gulping air for another long low moan the dong buzzing,
buzzing, Vanessa pulling Addison down bare legs twining for a starving
kiss.

What took you so long? says Jackson.

You wouldn't, says Torvald, stepping into the room. Blinking. Draping
the towel in front of him. You wouldn't believe me if I told you.
Setting the glass down on the long computer table so he could wrap the
towel about his hips. Lying on top of the blanket in a tight cropped
yellow T-shirt and little black boxer briefs beside Jackson naked
under the blanket is Alexandra with a white laptop on her belly.
Jackson looking up through his glasses from the pen scratching on the
notepad frowns. You can drop the modesty, Torvald. She's seen a cock
before.

Alexandra giggles.

Torvald turns. Lets the towel drop. Picks up the glass of water and
drinks half of it. Shrugs with one eyebrow and goes to the other side
of the bed.

Are you sleeping here tonight, Sandy? says Jackson.

If that's okay, Daddy, says Alexandra, scooting up as Torvald throws
back the blanket. Kicking her legs under the blanket as he climbs into
bed. On the screen of her laptop one of those terribly sweet Japanese
cartoons, two naked feminine boys one embracing the other from behind
in a storm of roses and jewel-colored hair.

Lights out, kids, says Jackson, setting his notepad aside as Alexandra
shuts the laptop. Torvald reaches over to the nightstand on his side
and turns off the lamp there and stops his hand still on the switch.
Turns to look back over his shoulder at Alexandra looking at him past
her Jackson rolling over his back to them settling on his pillow.
Alexandra both hands under the blanket pulled up to her shoulders
mimes a shh at Torvald settling on his back still looking straight at
her. I just, he starts to say, quietly, I won't, but she shakes his
head. At the base of Torvald's belly the blanket pulled up almost to
his chest rises a little and lowers again. Rises a little there and
lowers again. Alexandra bites her lip, looking at that patch of
blanket that rises again her shoulder working a little with it and
lowers.

Torvald sighs and puts both hands behind his head as Alexandra lays
her cheek on his chest breathing with the blanket that rises a little
and lowers again. He closes his eyes. He smiles.

                                                  ::
                                                  
                                            as falls cuyahoga,
                                      so falls cuyahoga falls
                                             an object lesson.011
                                                 
                                                          --n.
                                                  ::
                                                  
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/nickurfe/www/
http://www.ruthiesclub.com/

This story may be freely circulated by anyone, anytime, anywhere.

.

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