Message-ID: <48666asstr$1091308203@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
Return-Path: <newsmaster@cox.net>
X-Original-To: ckought69@hotmail.com
Delivered-To: ckought69@hotmail.com
X-Original-Path: not-for-mail
From: f.aces@idonthavea.domain.name (f. aces)
User-Agent: tin/1.7.5-20040615 ("Gighay") (UNIX) (Linux/2.4.25-1-686 (i686))
X-Original-Message-ID: <23LOc.3727$V%.1948@okepread03>
NNTP-Posting-Date: Sat, 31 Jul 2004 07:06:38 EDT
X-Spamscanner: mailbox7.ucsd.edu  (v1.4 May 20 2004 13:55:33, 0.0/5.0 2.63)
X-MailScanner: PASSED (v1.2.8 96350 i6VBAYkQ004571 mailbox7.ucsd.edu)
X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Sat, 31 Jul 2004 11:06:38 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} Happenstance <*> {f. aces} (mf, oral)
Lines: 200
Date: Sat, 31 Jul 2004 17:10:03 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2004/48666>
X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Moderator-ID: hoisingr, dennyw

You might consider this an update to Mindtrap, now that
I'm further along in life. Still no answers.

Dedicated to J, though I'm not sure she'd like it.
f. aces

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Happenstance
by Path's Edge

It was August, and the gulls flew low on the water.

    Dear Danny,
        Blah, blah. Blah blah blah blah blah. Blah blah.
    Blah blah blah blah.

    J

The wind rifled through the letters on my desk, tracing its fingers
along the J of her signature.

             *  *  *

"Maybe tomorrow. Yeah. Yeah, maybe tomorrow.... Well, okay. Okay, yeah.
Lunch then. Tomorrow."

Cars honked in the street, smog slicked the horizon, and the cell phone
felt especially warm in my hands. Warmed by my hands.

Things didn't really make sense anymore. There were the plain facts: a
couch, an empty bed and the unkempt sheets which made it. But no sense
to things. A refrigerator with olives, ketchup, mustard, and pickles. No
food.  No real sense to that.

Things always seem so much messier when the logic behind them is gone.

Maybe it'd be back tomorrow.

             *  *  *

"Gone, hunh? Wow. I thought you two were happy."

"Yeah. Well, it's not like she left mad, or anything. I'm not mad, I
don't think it's just that things don't make sense anymore. It's like
I'm dreaming all the time but I'm so tired that I think I'm awake....

"That didn't make much sense, did it?"

"No, Danny, it didn't."

Mary's eyes showed concern while the wind played with her hair. The
bench creaked beneath me, and the restaurant's chef yelled at his
helper.

"I don't think I'm angry."

"You will be soon. It'll happen."

"Maybe. Maybe tomorrow."

	     *  *  *

Sunlight peeked around the blinds as I labored between her legs. Amazing
intimacy through the sound of her breath in my ear: she moaned my name.

"Danny...."

I almost said "J" but turned it into "Jana." Maybe I was the only one
who noticed.  Then, I was having sex with her because she wasn't J.

One hand clenched the back of her shoulder, the other the back of her
head, pulling her to me, holding her close as I thrust as hard as I
could, the couch squeaking beneath us.

Her breasts were large, and her skin soft. Her eyes looked into mine,
desiring an intensity I didn't feel. Didn't feel at all. My skin started
to go cold, and I shifted, rolling us both over.

Jana's warm hands felt my body while she kissed me, trying to find more
warmth.

I was a cold well.

She slid down and took my penis in her mouth, wanting to finish me off.

It was January, and my heart stopped beating as I jerked in her mouth,
her hands holding me to her.

	     *  *  *

Days, weeks flew by in a slow crawl. Blending together until new words
began to come, if only to strike meaning where none was to be found:
Montursday, nightsday, wedaturday.  Crows took nest in a pine tree, and
I saw an aluminum can stand in a parking spot in the office lot for 5
days without being disturbed.

"Look out world, the big bad is back!"

I took solace in serial television.

	     *  *  *

"You need some help out with that, sir?"

The baggage clerk at the grocery store was button-cute, with dark hair
and the saucy attitude of the young.

"I need help with a lot of things, I'm not sure these bags are among
them."

"To be honest, I'd like to stop doing this for a while."

"Then come along."

We walked out to my car in silence, surrounded by the noise of a grocery
store and the quiet of a 3 o'clock. She was very pretty, beneath the
baby fat.

She helped me load the groceries into the car.

"You allowed to take tips?"

"Minimum wage. Tips are all that makes it tolerable."

I chuckled: I'd worked her job before.

"'sides, all I have to do is make sure the guys can check out my ass and
they'll usually give me something."

She was leaning against my car, pulling a cigarette pack out of her
shirt pocket. She obviously didn't intend to go back in just yet.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. It's simple: act innocent to the moms, and show curves to the
older guys, and you get money."

"And me?"

"Don't expect anything from you. I'm just using you for an extra smoke
break." She smiled.

Wind rustled the trees, and a bird pecked through the contents of a
dropped McDonald's to-go bag.  The clerk's hips rested against the trunk
of my car, and her breasts looked nice in the knit uniform top.

I pulled out my zippo, and gave it to her.

"Some of us are just nice."

I put the groceries on the table when I got home, and sat on my couch to
masturbate.

	     *  *  *

I bought a hot dog from a street vendor, and went down to the beach. It
was cold, and the wind flapped the hot dog salesman's plastic umbrella
behind me.

I watched the water crash into the rocks near the pier, seeing small
creatures dart in and out of the eddies. Crabs, maybe, or whatever those
little creatures are that run so fast.

I tripped, losing my grip on my lunch. It sailed into the surf. within a
few moments, gulls had retrieved the meat, leaving the bread and foil
wrapper to rise and fall with the waves.

	     *  *  *

I lay on the couch, remembering my first kiss, with J, sitting on this
couch. I remember putting my arms around her, warm under the jacket. I
remember how I didn't know what to do, embarrassed at first because I
was so old, yet had never done that before. Then I remember how tender
it was, not hesitant at all, but just...tender. Warm.

I remember learning how difficult a bra clasp can be when you're anxious
to get it off her.

I remember her letter.

The wind whispered in a private river next to my head on the couch, and
I understood.

"Yes."

A brief moment of pain as my heart caught fire, burning white-hot. I was
surprised that there was no smoke. The fire spread through my whole
body, turning the world white.

"yes."

Things make sense now.

"yes."

Things made sense.
-- 
f. aces
More at http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/f.aces/

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+