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Message-ID: <42269asstr$1052140204@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: anon584c@nyx.net (Uther Pendragon)
Reply-To: anon584c@nyx.net
Subject: {ASSM} new "Flash Flood" {Pendragon} (MF Mf mf voy nc Fsolo preg) <*>
Date: Mon,  5 May 2003 09:10:04 -0400
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IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18, or otherwise forbidden by law to 
read electronically transmitted erotic material, please go do 
something else.

    This material is Copyright, 2003, Uther Pendragon.  All 
rights reserved.  I specifically grant the right for all 
reproduction necessary for normal Usenet propagation.  I 
specifically grant the right of downloading and keeping ONE 
electronic copy for your personal reading so long as this notice 
is included.  Reposting requires previous permission.

     Most of my other stories can be found at:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Uther_Pendragon/www

    If you have any comments or requests, please E-mail them to 
me at anon584c@nyx.net.  

     If you save erotic stories and you prefer that other 
household members not be exposed to them, I recommend that you 
use a file zipped with the PKZip option -spassword.  (Where the 
password that you choose would, presumably, not be "password.")  
This still leaves the titles of the files and the fact that they 
are encrypted open to anybody.

    All persons here depicted, except public figures depicted as 
public figures in the background, are figments of my imagination 
and any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly 
coincidental.


                         #      #     #

                           Flash Flood
                       by Uther Pendragon
                        anon584c@nyx.net


                               ===
                               NOW


"Now, Jerry, Now!"

"Yes, darling. Oh, you are so warm... and so smooth."

"Oh my darling."

"Does it feel as good to you as it does to me?"

"Yes! You fill me. You complete me. And when you move like 
that... Oh!"

"Are you all right?"

"Wonderful! Oh, yes. Oh yes."

"Darling, I can't stop. I can't hold back!"

"Don't. Oh!"

"Unh. Unh. Unh."

"Ooooh."

"I love you."

"You too. Stay here."


                             ======
                             ALWAYS


"Just stay like this."

"It won't go in."

"See? And now I can hold you."

"You like them more than you like me."

"And I can hold you here, too. Not *more*, sweetheart. They 
are beautiful, but they are part of you, part of your beauty."

"You think I'll believe anything when you're like this. Oh, 
Larry."

"Oh, Janice. Oh, my love! Oh my dearest. Come for me. Come around 
me."

"Ah. Aaaah!"

"Uh. Love! ... I *do* love you."

"Then keep holding me,"

 "Always."

                              =====
                              Third


"I'm not made of glass, you know."

"I just don't want to hurt it."

"You won't. I'm all wrapped around it, and it's far, far, inside. 
"What it will need is a happy mommy -- so make me happy."

"Will this make you happy...? Or this...?"

"Oh yes! Yes, Don. Yes."

"And this?"

"What I need is this."

"Okay. Put me in.... Are you sure it doesn't hurt?"

"No. Yes. I'm sure."

"Oh, my love. Oh, my love. Oh!"

"Ah! Ah. Oh, Don."

"Darling! Darling...! I have to get off."

"But you have to stay close."

"Happy? Mommy."

"Very happy. Happy? Daddy."

"Ecstatic."


                             ======
                             SNATCH


"My father will hunt you down for this, however long it takes. 
You do know who he is, don't you?"

"The Don will do anything to revenge my snatching of his 
daughter?"

"You have that right."

"He'll spare no effort; he'll sic all his soldiers on my trail."

"All of them. And every marker he can call in. And he has equals. 
They might not always agree, but they all will want to make sure 
that nobody ever snatches one of *their* daughters."

"He'll do everything he can."

"Absolutely everything."

"Then, Maria, there is nothing more he can do -- nothing more 
that you can threaten me with."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that this experience should be one which is worth making 
so powerful an enemy."

"You can't...."

"Now, just because *I'm* going to enjoy this, is no reason you 
shouldn't"

"I won't.... I haven't ever...."

"There is a first time for everything. Why don't we get you more 
comfortable?"

                              =====
                              Sight


"You used to be so good about cleaning up the attic, Craig.  I 
don't know what's come over you."

Craig wasn't about to tell his mom.  Steve's older sister, 
Jennifer, used to sunbathe by the pool next door.  Since the 
location she chose was hidden from her own house and from the 
windows of theirs, she'd sometimes removed her top.  The 
ventilation vents for their attic, however, afforded a nice view.  

Now, Jennifer was away at college.  Steve was locked in the house 
with a cast on his leg, not that Craig was interested in watching 
Steve.  And he'd always stayed up in the attic a good long time.  
So he brought one of his special magazines up with him.  It 
wasn't the most comfortable place to read, but it did afford 
privacy.

Once he'd straightened up the piles stored here and swept up the 
accumulated dust, he glanced out the vent.  He'd imagine Jennifer 
lying there.  Interrupting his dreams of Jennifer was his sight 
of Steve's parents.  Steve's mom was lying on the pad that Jennifer 
used.  She was an old woman, after all, and her swimsuit was 
larger than Jennifer's had been.  Still, a woman splayed out like 
that was worth a short look. 

Craig decided to look more closely when she loosened her top.  He 
got only one second to see her breasts completely free before she 
rolled over.  He could only see a little like that, but maybe 
she'd roll over on her back again.  Jennifer sometimes had.

Then Steve's dad was interfering with the view.  He was 
straddling Steve's mom and rubbing her back.  Apparently, he was 
applying sunblock.  The view got better, though.  She raised 
herself up, and Craig could see more of her breasts.  

Steve's dad could do more than see.  The hands rubbing in the 
sunblock strayed further to her sides.  Soon, his fingers were 
stroking her breasts.  

Then he rubbed the sunblock down her back.  When he reached the 
swimsuit bottom, he lowered it and kept rubbing.  If only he 
weren't in the way, Craig would be able to see a woman's crack.

Then he did get out of the way.  Craig could see almost 
everything from this angle.  She rolled over, and he could see 
even more.  The hair on her cunt was mostly gone, leaving just a 
strip on the top of the mound.  When Steve's dad suddenly blocked 
Craig's view, he was also naked.  He had an erection, and no 
wonder -- Craig had one, too. 

He knelt down.  His hand blocked most of Craig's view of her cunt, 
but he kept moving it, and sometimes he spread the lips so Craig 
could almost see her clit.  From here?  Well, maybe it was.

His head and sometimes his shoulders blocked Craig's view of her 
breasts, too.  But he was licking them and putting the nipples in 
his mouth.  So, when Craig could see the nipples, they stood up 
more.

Suddenly, she reached for his dick.  In seconds, they were doing 
it.  Steve's mom and dad were fucking!  As he watched Steve's dad 
pump in and out, Craig's hips swung sympathetically.  

This was too much.  Craig opened his pants and grabbed his own 
dick.  A couple of strokes were enough; this was hotter than any 
magazine.  He sagged there, barely keeping on his feet.

"Craig, aren't you done yet?  I have a pile of things for you to 
take up there when it's clean."

He hastily zipped up.  A glance through the ventilator slits 
showed that the couple was resting side by side.


                             =======
                             Hearing


Lynne's mom was *such* a prude.  Austin had been flat broke 
Monday, and his car had been almost out of gas.  So, when he 
picked her up, they decided to park in the driveway instead of 
driving out to one of their regular spots.  Lynne had come in 
early, too.  But did that matter to her mom?  No.  She bitched 
that they were behind Mr. Roland's car.  "What if he had seen 
you?" she asked.

Lynne would bet that her dad wouldn't have grounded her for a 
week over something like that.  Not that her dad would have 
minded Austin's blocking Mr. Roland's car.  He probably would 
have preferred that they drive over Mr. Roland.  But this wasn't 
her dad's weekend.  And her mom was inflexible.

So, when Lynne snuck into the rec room to open the cellar door 
for Austin, she was only doing what her mom had made necessary.  
If she was dressed in a sheer nightie when she did that, it was 
what she wore to bed in the summer, after all.  

It would have served her mom right if she'd snuck him into her 
bedroom.  The windows opened wide enough for that, and Lynne had 
made that trip often enough herself.  It would have served her 
mom right, but Austin would have taken it as an invitation, an 
invitation Lynne wasn't quite ready to extend yet.

Anyway Austin liked the nightie.  And, if they cuddled on the old 
couch, this was all that they could do silently.  If they'd 
turned on the TV, her mom would have been on them like a ton of 
bricks.  Lynne was enjoying the kisses. Austin's touch through 
the nightie was even more delightful.  

She'd promised herself to keep the nightie on; she didn't let 
Austin open her jeans or skirt in the car.  She was reconsidering 
that promise, though.  His kisses and his touches made her *so* 
hot.  Then he seemed distracted.  There was a sound overhead.  
Was her mom looking for her?

No.  The sound wasn't moving.  It was just some creaking in the 
room right over their heads, her mom's room.  Then the creaking 
got into a more regular rhythm.  It was as if the bed were moving 
back and forth over their heads.

Suddenly, Lynne realized what it was.  Austin obviously had 
tumbled earlier.  Right beside each other, holding each other 
intimately, they paid attention only to the sounds from the room 
above them.  Lynne was sure she was blushing scarlet in the dark.

Finally, after the squeaks went even louder and faster, they fell 
silent.  Blessed silence.  And then, when she thought she might 
be able to look Austin in the face someday without blushing, she 
heard "Oh!"


                              =====
                              Smell


Greg was used enough to doing the wash by this time that sorting 
the clothes didn't take much of his attention.  This was a pity, 
since all his thoughts were on Gayle's illness.  Even when 
Allison was home, her conversation -- once so entertaining -- was 
on her mother's condition.  He hoped she wasn't talking about 
that to her date tonight.  The danger was small; she was staying 
out later on dates these days.  Probably she saw the need of 
distraction as much as he did.  And her youth provided more 
opportunities.

He moved over to the contents of her hamper.  After the sick-room 
smells of the hamper from his and Gayle's room, the lilac odor 
permeating Allison's was a relief.  He'd given his little girl 
a sachet as one of her Christmas presents for years, and she 
still used it.  He held some of her clothes up to his nose to get 
more of that odor.

One pair of panties, though, held another odor as well.  His 
little girl was a young woman now.  He sniffed at another pair.  
Greg knew he was a sick fuck to get turned on by the odor of his 
own daughter's panties, but it had been so long.  He could bring 
himself a little relief, but he didn't want to do it where Gayle 
could find out.  Her response was to feel guilty.  

He brought a second pair of panties to his nose, and then a 
third.  Underlying the sachet was the smell of a woman, he'd 
almost say the smell of an aroused woman.  Allison was gone for 
hours; Gayle couldn't get out of their room without his help, let 
alone down the stairs.  He was all alone with the machines and 
his emotions.  He took out his cock and stroked it while sniffing 
another pair of Allison's panties.

A fifth pair held a quite different odor.  He hadn't smelled them 
in years, but he could still remember the scent of used Trojans.


                              =====
                              Taste


Peg's mouth tasted sweet.  It tasted of the pie they'd had for 
dessert, and also -- a little -- of her.  Her breasts didn't taste 
like much; her shower was too recent.  Her center, though, tasted 
wonderful, salty and a little sweet.

He was lapping up that taste, and she was producing more, for a 
contentedly long time.  Then she tensed under him.  When there 
was a metallic tang to that taste, he stopped.

Her forehead tasted damp, and very salty.



                              =====
                              Touch


Newly showered, she toweled off and then rubbed talcum everywhere 
she could reach.

She slipped out of her robe in her bedroom, and treasured the 
sensation of slipping between freshly-laundered sheets.  She ran 
her fingers through her hair, enjoying the slight pulling on the 
roots as she spread it out on the pillow around her.  She ran her 
right hand down her left arm from shoulder to wrist.  Then she 
repeated the feeling on the other arm.  She rubbed her hands down 
her newly-powdered flanks.

All this was teasing, though.  Soon enough, her hands were 
caressing her breasts, feeling the smoothness of the outer parts 
and the bumps on the areolae.  The nipples were smooth, too, but 
oh! so sensitive.  She could feel the ridges on her fingertips 
when she stroked them.  However lightly she stroked them, the 
ridges sent shivers through her.

Her fingers felt smooth when she stroked her thighs, however.  
There was still some talcum remaining there, and she brushed it 
along the insides of the thighs.  She got closer to their 
juncture with every pass, but tried to stop just short.

The hair on her mound wasn't smooth at all.  It was wiry.  And 
the feeling of it under her fingers was the least of her 
sensations.  As she stroked her fingers through it, each follicle 
reported the progress, upwards, downwards, upwards, further 
downwards.  Down, finally, to her lips.

At first, she just brushed the hairs there, getting ten times the 
sensation as she had from those on her mound.  Soon, though, she 
rubbed the surface directly.  After having teased herself with 
the delay, she parted the outer lips.

The inner lips were smooth and juicy against her fingertip.  Her 
fingertip was rough and ridged against those lips.  She parted 
them as well and felt the real moisture.

Gently, slowly, she spread that moisture upward between those 
lips.  Slowly, tantalizingly, she approached their meeting point.  
Tantalizingly, carefully, she stroked the center of her feelings.

As the fever gripped her, she stroked more firmly.  Still 
careful, she brought herself to the point and through the point.  
She lay there afterwards, feeling the sweat dry on her skin.



                         ==============
                         Proprioception


She was standing.  

Her breasts sagged slightly from the removal of support.  Soon, 
though, her nipples firmed and extended.  She stepped, and then 
eased down to a horizontal position.  Her mouth opened; her 
tongue was pushed back and then pressed forward.  Her arms went 
up and around.

Her knees bent and her legs spread.  Her nipples extended once 
more, and one and then the other was pulled upwards against the 
weight of her breasts.  Her outer labia were moved back and forth 
very slightly, and then they were parted the slightest bit.  Now 
her inner lips were being moved.  Her hips undulated upward to 
meet those strokes.

After a long while, her hips were held down against the mattress.  
She felt her legs moved further apart.  Her outer labia, and then 
the inner ones, were spread.  Her vaginal walls were stretched.

Her legs were spread more widely apart, although they clasped 
tightly.  Her hips were forced down again and again.  Her 
diaphragm tightened and her hips rose.

She lay flat on the bed with a heavy weight pressing her down.


=======

The end
Flash Flood
Uther Pendragon
anon584c@nyx.net
2003/05/05


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