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Message-ID: <44481asstr$1064650205@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Goldberry <Goldberry12spam@hotmail.spamcom>
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Subject: {ASSM} RP Tom Bombadil - Double Dutch [M/F, cheat] Flash
Date: Sat, 27 Sep 2003 04:10:05 -0400
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Reposted with permission

Goldberry
Goldberry12spam@hotmail.spamcom (you can figure this out :)

Emails to me or posts to ass.d will also be read by Tom.

Enjoy!



Double Dutch [M/F, cheat]

by Tom Bombadil  (c) May 1997
Short Story # 15


Disclaimer:  All the standard rules apply.  If you are offended by 
explicit descriptions of sex or the human body, if it is illegal to 
possess such materials at your location, if you are under-age by law in 
your location, or if somebody else thinks you might have too much fun 
reading it, stop right now and remove this text from your computer.

This is purely a work of fiction, with all characters and actions 
described by me coming straight out of my imagination.  As a work of 
fiction, it does not condone or condemn any of the activities or actions 
described, nor does it relate to any type of real events in my life, or 
known to me in the lives of any of my friends or relatives.

You've been warned.

I give permission for anyone to share or archive this story.

********************************************************************

Heather sat on the edge of the bathtub trying not to make any noise.  
Finished with her nipples, John was slowly licking his way down to her 
light blonde muff.

"John?  Heather?"  

"I'll be out in a minute," yelled Heather.

"No rush," replied Shirley.  "I'm looking for my husband.  Have you seen 
him?"

The blonde woman looked down at the man with his face in her crotch and 
winked.  He winked back.  She had to suppress a gasp as his lips 
captured her clit.  "I think he's busy doing something downstairs right 
now."

"Okay, thanks.  Your husband just got back with the hot dogs and beer, 
so don't be too long."

--

In the change room, Shirley held on to a chair, her forehead pressed 
against the wall.  Behind her, the slurping sounds stopped as Emilio 
stood up.  Her thick black bush was dripping with both his saliva and 
her arousal.  His cock pressed against her lower lips, then slowly eased 
between them.  

"Emilio?  Shirley?"

"I'm in here, Heather," called Shirley.  "Be done in a minute."

"No rush.  Just letting you know John's almost ready with lunch.  Now 
I'm looking for my husband.  Have you seen him?"

"A couple of minutes ago," replied Heather.  She held in an "oof!" as 
Emilio suddenly thrust home.  "I think he just went in."

"Okay.  Do you want creamy cucumber or Italian in your salad?"

Shirley turned and bared her teeth at Emilio, who started stroking into 
her thatch deep and hard.  He grinned back.  "Italian," she managed to 
say with only a slight quaver in her voice.  "Definitely Italian."

--

John and Emilio stood by the pool, watching their wives through the 
kitchen window.

"Think your wife suspects?" asked Emilio.

"Nah.  Heather hasn't got a clue.  How 'bout yours, John?"

"Are you kidding?  If Shirley even had an inkling I was screwing your 
wife, I'd be divorced so fast..."

"Even though I'm screwin' her?"

"Damned right."

--

Heather and Shirley stood side by side at the kitchen counter, cleaning 
up from lunch.  Through the window they could see their husbands talking 
by the pool.

"Well?" asked Heather.  "Are we ever gonna tell 'em we know?"

Shirley laughed, put her arm around the other woman's waist and pulled 
her close.  "What?  And ruin the best fun either one of us has had since 
we got married?  Not on your life!"

<Fin>

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