Message-ID: <49605asstr$1098850201@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Mail-Format-Warning: No previous line for continuation: Wed Aug 14 16:30:23 2002Return-Path: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Original-To: ckought69@hotmail.com Delivered-To: ckought69@hotmail.com X-Original-To: ckought69@hotmail.com Delivered-To: ckought69@hotmail.com X-Received: from spamfilter (localhost [127.0.0.1]) by julie-int.asstr-mirror.org (Postfix) with ESMTP id ECD5DF970 for <ckought69@hotmail.com>; Tue, 26 Oct 2004 04:54:55 -0400 (EDT) X-Received: from web20705.mail.yahoo.com (web20705.mail.yahoo.com [216.136.227.117]) by julie.asstr-mirror.org (Postfix) with SMTP id C7837F96F for <ckought69@hotmail.com>; Tue, 26 Oct 2004 04:54:55 -0400 (EDT) X-Original-Message-ID: <20041026085456.5824.qmail@web20705.mail.yahoo.com> X-Received: from [208.186.138.193] by web20705.mail.yahoo.com via HTTP; Tue, 26 Oct 2004 01:54:56 PDT From: cassie atherton <cassieatherton@yahoo.com> ReSent-Date: Tue, 26 Oct 2004 18:59:00 -0400 (EDT) Resent-To: ckought69@hotmail.com ReSent-Subject: {ASSM}{CURMUDGEON FEST} ReSent-Message-ID: <Pine.LNX.4.58.0410261859000.19221@sara.asstr-mirror.org> X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Tue, 26 Oct 2004 01:54:56 -0700 (PDT) Subject: {ASSM} {CURMUDGEON FEST} "Naked Desire" by Cassie X-Original-Subject: {ASSM}{CURMUDGEON FEST} Lines: 561 Date: Wed, 27 Oct 2004 00:10:02 -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/Year2004/49605> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: assm-admin Naked Desire By Cassie "Hey you! Miss Prom Queen!" Abigail Ashton stopped and turned. "What do you want Jan?" "I've got something for you." Abby's eyes narrowed. "Since you're too good to kiss my brother," Jan said. "I have someone here who you just might find more appealing." "Who are you talking about? We're in the girls' shower. There's no one here but us females, so who do you mean?" Abby asked. "Why, my little friend right here," Jan said and brought her arm out so everyone could see what she had, which caused quite a few gasps. Abby backed away and shook her head. "Keep that thing away from me." "Come on, Queenie, just give him a little kissy wissy." Jan took a step forward. "No!" Abby shrieked and stepped backwards. "Come on, plant your lips right here on this mouse. Give him an itty bitty wet one," Jan said in a singsong voice. "You're crazy!" Abby squealed. Jan stepped menacingly towards Abby, who continued to back away. Leering at the Prom Queen, she said, "Either you kiss my furry friend or I'll feed him to you." Since there was no chance in hell of talking her way out of the situation, Abby turned and ran out of the shower into hallway with Jan hot on her heels making kissing sounds. Abby opened the first door she saw, slammed it behind her, panting, her heart racing wildly. She rested her face against the cool metal as she strained to hear if Jan was on the other side. Abby had worked up a sweat during her mad dash. She closed her eyes, quite unaware she had lost her towel. "Miss Ashton!" The male voice shocked Abby and she froze. For the first time, she realized where she had run. She was in the school gymnasium, completely naked. She turned and stared, aghast. Abby had interrupted a meeting of the coaches and graduating senior football players. Her hands automatically tried to cover her exposed pussy and breasts. "Miss Ashton!" Coach Barton yelled. "Yes-s-s-s sir-r-r-r?" "Get back to your locker room and put some clothes on! Now!" The gym echoed with catcalls and whistles. Her heart pounded. She could just imagine what was going through those guys' minds. Her peers. The obvious humiliation. Abby saw a corner of the towel sticking out and yanked on it wildly. Her bare bottom wiggled as she twisted the white terry cloth back and forth, much to the guys' delight. Unfortunately the towel was wedged tightly in the door, and her body rocked to and fro trying to free it. "Stop that shimmying now! Just open the damn door and go, Miss Ashton!" "But ... but ..." Abby sputtered, trying to explain that she had already tried the door, and it wouldn't budge. "We see your `butt' ... we like it. Don't go, baby, we don't mind!" one guy shouted out. "Stay Abby! You can `butt' in any time!" another senior yelled. "But ... I ... but ..." she stammered. No matter how hard she tried to open the door, it refused to move. She yanked and twisted the towel, but it was jammed in tight. A flush spread over her body, and her nipples were now as hard as pebbles. A throbbing started between her legs. Abby couldn't believe she was actually excited by this. Her? "Miss Ashton! Do you mind?" "I don't mind, Coach!" the team captain shouted. "Coach, please," Abby said, her eyes wide and her cheeks an alluring rosy hue. "That's enough, Greg," Coach Barton said. "All right, men, about face, give the lady some privacy." "I was enjoying her `privates' quite a bit, Coach." "Enough Stan! Turn around!" snapped Coach Barton. "Yes Coach." "Miss Ashton, keep your back to the team," Barton said. "Where is Coach Palmer? Surely she watches you girls? After all, that is her job!" "Office ... uh, I mean, she was called to the office ... sir." He cleared his throat and said, "Stand to the side, I'll help you get out of here." "Abigail, your behavior is so out of character for you. Coach Barton wanted you expelled from school," said Helen Palmer, the girls' gym teacher and only coach for all of the female sports teams. "Expelled!" Abby gasped as if she had been stung by a bee. "Yes expelled. If I hadn't been in the office when he barged in, demanding you be yanked out of school, you would be home right now." "Oh my." Abby remembered her manners, and added, "Thank you, Coach Palmer." "Young lady, you better have a good reason for streaking out into the gym today, especially since I stuck my neck out for you." When Abby remained silent, Helen asked, "Are you on drugs?" "NO!" "Then what happened? What made you do it?" Abby looked at the teacher, but didn't say a word. "All right, then let me tell you this," Coach Palmer said. "Not only did I keep you from being expelled, but also from being suspended. But I can't stop them from punishing you for this outrageous stunt. You will be sent to detention." "Detention!" Abby clasped a hand over her mouth. Anyone could tell by her reaction that that punishment was worse than being expelled or suspended. The coach watched her young student, clearly heartbroken. The girl never got into trouble. After all she was the Prom Queen. They'd never had one bit of a problem with Abby before, never. "Coach Palmer, it wasn't my fault." "Abby, I have no doubt it wasn't your fault, not entirely. I'm not sure who put you up to your little streak show, but someone has to be held accountable. There is no way we can overlook this type of behavior, no matter who you are. Look, I kept you from being removed from school, but I can't stop Coach Barton from placing you in detention, unless...." "Unless?" "Tell me why you did it. Or who put you up to it. If you don't, you must remain in detention." Abby blinked. "I know this is probably like being sent to a jail and being imprisoned with the dregs of society, but you'll have to do time. I won't lie to you, this won't being easy. You've been used as a shining example to your classmates for a long time, since you're the Prom Queen, the Harvest Queen, and the County Fair Queen. And we can't forget you're been the Class President since you entered as a freshman. There are going to be plenty who will love that you have fallen. There'll be lots of taunts. Your school record has been spotless until now." Abby lowered her head. "It wasn't my fault." "Listen to me, Abby. Tell me what happened and I can make your stay in detention brief. A couple of hours and it'll be all over." Thoughts raced through Abby's head. She stood and walked over to the window and stared outside. Rule number one: "Never squeal on your peers." Coach Palmer watched the slender seventeen-year-old. Abby could have been the original Barbie. She matched that top-heavy doll to a tee, proportionally. Abigail Ashton was the epitome of what every teenage girl wanted to be. The blue eyed blonde was popular, with a winning smile, top-notch personality, and the best grades in the school. It didn't hurt one bit, that Abby didn't act like she was stuck on herself. Coach Palmer stood up and said, "Abby, think this matter over, I'll give you a few minutes alone to sort your thoughts." "It wasn't my fault." "Name please?" "Abigail Ashton." A screeching sound filled the room as Mr. Ralph Hardin, detention monitor, used a piece of chalk to make a check mark beside "A.A." on the blackboard. It sent shivers through her. He looked at his new resident, and asked, "Is something wrong, Miss Ashton?" "Sir?" "Find a seat. I thought beauty queens knew how to sit down?" Mr. Hardin snapped. "Of course, I could be wrong, but I thought they rode on floats or some such nonsense. They do, don't they? So, do you know how to sit?" Snickers echoed around the room. Abby's cheeks reddened as she replied, "Yes sir, I do." "Then do so, Miss Ashton," Mr. Hardin said. "It's my understanding that if you want out, all you have to do is write an essay and the doors to my prison will swing open. Then you will be free to scamper about. Of course, this must be done with your clothes on." Once more, snickers were heard. "Miss Ashton?" "Yes sir, Mr. Hardin?" "Answer me when I ask you a question." She gritted her teeth before saying, "You are correct, Mr. Hardin." "Which part of my repartee was correct?" Abby couldn't believe her ears. The old fuddy-duddy teacher was actually baiting her. He wanted her to lash out and say things that would extend her punishment. The nasty old fart! How dare he! She cleared her throat and said, "All of it, Mr. Hardin. If I write an essay explaining my illicit behavior, the door to your jail cell will be opened. Then I can go back to where I belong, back to civilization, fully clothed." Moans and groans filled the room. Mr. Hardin snorted and left, slamming the door shut behind him. The loudness made her cringe. She turned to find a seat and hopefully disappear from sight. "We won't bite!" jeered one student. "Yeah! We don't have cooties." "Cooties? Just how old are you?" taunted another. "You goof!" The group laughed hysterically as Abby hurried to the nearest empty chair. Keeping her eyes glued on her textbooks, she opened one and pretended to read. "How long are you in for?" Abby looked over at an extremely handsome guy who she knew went by the name of Ramrod. "Twenty-four hours or until I write an essay on why I felt the need to humiliate myself." He chuckled and said, "then you better get to writing." "I can't ... I'm not," she said softly. "You have to do it, you know," said the girl sitting in front of her. "Excuse me, my name is Pam." "Hi Pam. Why do I have to?" Abby asked. "Because you're the Prom Queen! You won't be able to reign if you don't," Ramrod snapped. "You're not stupid; don't talk as if you are." Abby's face told anyone watching that she hadn't had a clue that she could lose her crown. Her eyes were wide and her mouth moved before she could find the words to speak. "But that's not fair, it wasn't my fault." "You didn't know?" Pam asked. Before Abby could answer, Ramrod interjected, "Of course she didn't. She's never been in trouble before, have you, Princess?" "It wasn't my fault." Suddenly the door to the classroom flew open. A guy rushed in and said, "I'm sorry I'm late, Mr. Hardin. It wasn't my fault." "There seems to be an echo in here," Ramrod said and the entire group burst out laughing, even Abby. "A.A.? Am I in the wrong room again?" asked the new arrival as he glanced at the blackboard. "I don't need Alcoholic Anonymous, not yet anyway." "No John," Pam said. "That's the initials of our newest cell mate. Hard-on isn't here, so sit down." "Hard-on isn't here! Yeah!" John exclaimed as he took his seat. "You call Mr. Hardin `Hard-on'?" Abby asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Pam giggled and nodded. "You do know what one is, don't you?" asked a guy a couple seats over from Abby. "If not, I've got one to show you." Fortunately she was spared from answering as Ramrod spoke up, "That's enough." "Fine, man, keep her to yourself. Guess you want to ram your rod in her twat, don't you?" "Fuck you!" Ramrod glared at the guy. "You're a fucking asshole." "Oh yeah!" the guy challenged. John interrupted, "Ahh, well, well, who do we have here? Why, it's our Prom Queen! She must be visiting her lowly subjects. How do you do, Your Majesty?" Abby giggled and relaxed for the first time. She liked John, it was obvious he didn't want a fight breaking out and had successfully stopped it. "Nice to meet you, lowly subject." On day two of her detention, Abby was met once again at the door. "Do you have your pardon of freedom written yet, Miss Ashton?" Mr. Hardin asked. "No sir, I do not," Abby said. "But thank you for asking, Mr. Hard-on." The second she had said it, she realized her mistake. The room erupted into laughter. Her cheeks were red as fire as Mr. Hardin leaned in close to her and whispered, "In your dreams Abby, in your dreams. You're nothing special, just a spoiled brat who needs her ass beaten. All I can say is that better be a damn good essay Missy, if you want to be pardoned from my prison." He snorted, turned on his heel and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. "Oops!" Abby said and hurried to her seat. "You better kiss that crown good-bye," Pam said. Abby fought the tears. She just wanted to fit in. She hadn't meant to be vulgar. Ramrod reached over and squeezed her arm. "It'll be all right." Abby nodded, but remained silent, staring at her hands. The sound of a fire drill echoed in the room, making their ears ring. All thoughts of her blunder disappeared. Mr. Hardin appeared out of nowhere and said, "Okay people! Exit in an orderly fashion, no shoving." The group stood and moved towards the door. Ramrod held Abby back until they were the last ones in the room. They gazed into each other's eyes. "What, Ramrod?" she whispered. "Call me Rod." "Okay, Rod." "Your eyes are beautiful. They're the color of bluebells, so warm and inviting. A man could get lost in your eyes," he said and brought up his hand to caress her cheek. She smiled and blushed. "I want to get lost in your eyes, Abby." He leaned closer and brought her face next to his. "In your mouth. In your body." "Shouldn't we go?" "No," he said as he captured her lips. "Abby ... " "That is enough!" They jumped apart and turned to see Mr. Hardin standing in the doorway. "All right you two, move it!" Mr. Hardin yelled. "We're having a fire drill, not a suck face party." They left the room and walked down the corridor towards the nearest exit. Suddenly Rod grabbed Abby's arm and they ducked into a room. "What are you doing?" she gasped. He closed and locked the door behind them. "I want to hold you and touch you," he said and took her into his arms. "This is wrong, we shouldn't," she managed to say right before kissed her passionately. His hands moved up and down her body, rubbing her breasts, her ass, before one hand went up under her skirt. She gasped, he invaded. Their tongues dueled. His hand kneaded her firm bottom before slipping inside her panties to touch her bare skin. She gasped. His fingers rubbed against her pubic hair before moving down to slide between the lips. Her arms encircled his neck as he entered her pussy, first one finger, then two. She moaned. He broke their kiss and licked and sucked his way to her breasts. First her ear lobe, then her neck, down to the valley. She arched her back and tilted her head when his teeth grazed her tender skin. He quickly slipped her bra off and sucked on her nipples, while two fingers pumped inside of her. She quivered. Her heart pounded as the new sensations took over. A part of her knew to stop him. The rest wanted more. He dropped to his knees and lifted her skirt. His hot breath blew against the silk she was wearing, before he pulled down her panties. He licked up and down her thighs and sucked on her tender skin. She bit her lips. His nose pressed against her pubes. When his tongue entered her, she opened her legs wider. As the first orgasm she'd ever had surged through her body, she grabbed his head, pulling him deep into her. Her fingers were entwined in his hair. She kept her eyes closed as she rode the waves of pleasure, oblivious to her surroundings. Right or wrong had ceased to exist. Once she stopped gyrating, Rod got to his feet and said, "Let's fuck." Her eyes widened. "I've never. I shouldn't." He smiled as he pulled his shirt up over his head and slipped out of his jeans. "First time for everything, darling. I'll be gentle." "We shouldn't," she whispered. "But we are," he said as he laid her down on the carpeted floor of the Reading Room. Before she could protest again, he captured her lips. He got between her legs, and rubbed his cock up and down against her pussy. When she moaned, he entered her in one quick thrust. She stiffened at first, biting back a cry of pain. Rod continued to fuck her, gently, slowly. She relaxed, and enjoyed the feel of him sliding in and out. Her juices eased his movement. He picked up momentum and began to thrust harder and harder. Instead of hurting, like she might have feared, Abby felt her second orgasm build. He continued, a steady, forceful pumping. The intensity increased, getting stronger. Then, with one final, forceful thrust, he emptied his load deep inside of her, triggering her orgasm. She quivered for what seemed an eternity as he held her close and whispered sweet words into her ear. Both panted as they cuddled in each other's arms. "Thank you," she whispered. He chuckled and kissed her lips. "It was my pleasure, so thank you." Abby studied herself in the mirror. She had to admit she looked good in the crown. Her long, golden hair was fixed in ringlets, the perfect style for the tiara. Her diamond earrings glistened in the light. The new makeup brought out the blue in her eyes, even more than usual. She sighed and nodded. She would make a beautiful Prom Queen. Her essay had been a masterpiece, a real work of art. She said exactly what the School Board wanted to hear. She took the blame for everything and grovelled at their feet. The day of the fire drill was her last in detention. A few tears worked wonders. Coach Barton put a stop to her serving "time." She smiled into the mirror. True, it hadn't hurt to remind him that he swore at her in front of witnesses. A squeaking sound caught her attention and Abby glanced over at her desk. "Ahh Herman, you're a godsend," she said as she got her pet mouse out of his cage. "To think that stupid bitch actually thought I was afraid of mice. But it was you who gave me the idea how to get into detention and lose my virginity. Now I'll admit I freaked when I discovered I could have been expelled and lose my crown." She shivered exaggeratedly and giggled. Abby nuzzled the rodent. "At least now when the captain of the football team wants to fuck me, I'll be ready for him. You know, Herman, I've heard he is hung like a horse and I knew Ramrod wasn't, despite what his name implied." She giggled. "Oh yes, his rod rammed home, but it only paved the way for the real stud." As she gazed at their reflection, she rubbed the soft fur against her cheek. "Hmmm. Do you think I should send Jan a thank you card? After all, without her, I wouldn't be a real woman and ready for the Prom or her brother." -------------------------------- Do you Yahoo!? Yahoo! Mail Address AutoComplete - You start. We finish. ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ This post has been reformatted by ASSTR's Smart Text Enhancement Processor (STEP) system due to inadequate formatting. ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ <1st attachment begin> <HTML removed pursuant to http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/erotica/assm/faq.html#policy> <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. The post was sent as an email attachment and has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software. ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ -- 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}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+