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From: Souvie <souvieNOSPAM@mindspring.com>
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X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Fri, 31 Oct 2003 13:25:36 -0500
Subject: {ASSM} "Tall, Dark and ..." (F-solo)
Date: Fri, 31 Oct 2003 21:10:05 -0500
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<1st attachment, "talldarkand.txt" begin>

Tall, Dark and ...
by Souvie
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Copyright October 2003
See Disclaimer at the end - thanks to John and Denny for their
quick beta work. Thanks to Rui for the language translation. :)
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Angele was an island girl with long black hair, almond eyes and
dark skin. She lived alone in a hut by the shore, an artist by
trade but a dreamer at heart. She made jewelry that she sold at
market. A boring, solitary life, that was Angele's reality. But
sometimes, in the loneliest part of the night, she'd toss and
turn on her small bed, dreaming of a better life, filled with
light and laughter, a man to love her, and a family of her own.
Come the morning it was always the same: Angele and nothing but
the indifferent, endless ocean.

One day, at sunset, Angele heard a distant melody. She looked up
from her work, trying to find the source of the singing, but saw
no one. It was a man's voice, rich and deep, dark and mysterious,
but at the same time vaguely familiar. The melody was haunting,
but the words were too low to make out. She got up and ran in the
direction she thought it was coming from, but the voice faded and
there was nothing but the sound of her breathing and the gentle
lapping of the waves.

That night she dreamt of a tall man, hair as dark as volcanic
ash, and a smile brighter than the sun on the water. His hands
were cool on her hot skin, and her own hands crept between her
thighs, seeking relief from the fire the dream man was igniting
inside her. Faster and faster her hands moved until she came. She
settled down with a sigh of exhaustion, hugging the pillow to her
chest.

Her days continued much the same as they always had; it was only
her nights that were different. Erotic, dream-filled nights with
the mystery man and her hands bringing her to swift and sure
completion. At times she was sure she'd imagined hearing the
voice that day while she was working, but other times she could
have sworn she caught the melody wafting to her on the breeze,
elusive and tantalizing.

After almost a week, Angele was sitting by her fire and heard the
voice again. The voice seemed to be approaching her small
cottage. She felt her heart thumping, her palms sweating with
fear and anticipation, her thighs tingling almost imperceptibly.
She got up and ran to the window, but the beach was bare. The
voice faded into nothingness, and she turned from the window,
tears rimming her eyes.

That night Angele's dreams were more vivid than ever. She could
almost see the Aegean blue of his eyes, taste the salt on his
lips as he teased and tortured her with his seductive voice and
strong hands. Her own hands worked her body, a poor substitute
for the man of her fantasies.

The next day, she sat by the window at sunset waiting to hear
that wonderful voice. It was there, getting closer and closer to
her house, with the same sweet melody:

minha pequenina
venho
que bela és
abre-me o teu coração
abre-me a tua porta


Her heart pounded in her chest. The voice had never sounded so
sweet and sultry, yet so strong and intense. A dark silhouette
separated from the jungle at the shoreline and made its way,
agonizingly slowly, to her door. It was too dark to make out more
than his outline, but Angele was sure it was the man from her
dreams. She didn't know how or why, and didn't really care. All
she wanted was to feel the exquisite pleasure she felt in her
dreams - pleasure from his hands instead of her own.

The dark silhouette was at her door.

Angele jumped up and threw the door open.

And the beast came in.

THE END

- - - - - - -
I write, you read. It's not, I write, you take. Comments and
constructive criticism greatly appreciated. Blow me at: souvie at
mindspring dot com

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Souvie/www
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Souvie/



<1st attachment end>


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