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Message-ID: <55991asstr$1180739403@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: gsstories@yahoo.com.au
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Subject: {ASSM} Unfinished story for feedback (Mf, nc)
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Date: Fri, 01 Jun 2007 19:10:03 -0400
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Repost: I think Google put strange word-wrap on my earlier post, try
this one instead

Hi guys,

It's been years since I posted my last stories, at which time I was a
virgin and fairly adolescent in my fantasies. Any feedback on the work
in progress below would be much appreciated - although retaining most
of my taboo obsessions, since those early days I have come to admire
what is not said over what is.

Thanks in advance,

GSStories
gsstories@yahoo.com.au

Unfinished (Mf, nc)
by gsstories

ONE
---
The brown arm, framed through two doorways from Parvati's modest
kitchen, seemed to be giving off a smell of clean earth that made me
think of freshly dug ditches and obscene ruts in the moist gutters of
Chennai. Mingled with the mild aromas of Kerala food around us, I was
brought to mind of a fragrant warm loaf atop a hot bed. A delicious
loaf. Was the arm covered with soft down? Would the smooth skin
beneath tremble under the wake of my feather-light fingertips? The arm
was set in a pose suggesting a body in concentration. Homework,
perhaps; while answering her queries on quadratic equations
(miraculously - I had long forgotten them), I would bend down and
place my head on her shoulder (her shirt would be large and loose,
allowing a peek of skin and bra), pressing my ear to hers, and she
would shiver and the light black hair around her ear would tickle mine
as her reddish-brown lips quivered and exhaled sharply, blowing the
papers free of the desk... Parvati exploded into laughter at something
I had missed; David, in his usual dry way, had made a suggestive joke
about the way I was staring into her daughter's bedroom.
   "Just tired," I said, quickly bringing myself back to the reality
of the kitchen table. Parvati to my right, smiling like a child as
usual; her husband Gupil opposite, by comparison less joyous but his
eyes still glimmering as he spooned rotti from a bowl; David to my
right, raising his eyebrows in comprehension (at university we had
shared many things). I stared at Gupil's homely face, simulataneously
imagining all the things I wanted to compel on his daughter. I ate
their food with relish. I was heady with the powerful secrecy of my
thoughts and the secret potential of my hands. My fingers tore apart
the naan like wet cotton.
   They called their sole daughter to the table at dessert, explaining
that she had a physics test the following day. "Physics, at thirteen?"
I asked. "Yes," she replied, glancing my way carelessly, and as it
turned out her school primarily trained the scientists of tomorrow.
International students, or second-generation migrants with a will for
success - knowing Parvati's own determination at work, having seen the
seriousness with which she took it upon herself to please management,
I was not surprised. I discreetly did not look hard at... Neha? Neela?
But she still smelled of wet earth, and had my fork gone clattering to
the floor I would have immediately crawled beneath the table for a
long glance at her legs. She was short, as small as her mother and
with an enthusiastic mouth. She wore a billowing black skirt. Her hair
went as far as her neck and each strand was light and distinct and I
saw it with particular precision and wonder when the single kitchen
globe shone behind it like a little sun. With the tender reluctance of
a man for years obsessed I peeked up at her from my chair, my face
distorted, David later told me, into a strange grimace of happiness.
Parvati caught that look and stared at me thoughtfully for a little
while; Gupil just ate and occasionally looked at his wife.
   In good time the meal was finished and we all retired to the living
room. Gupil, soon absorbed in the television, barely noticed how
closely Parvati sat between me and David. Neha had departed some time
ago, returning to her room and, to my dismay, not placing her arm back
within my view. David began playing eye-spy, but he was infuriatingly
good at it; as a consequence of his amusing abstractions Parvati was
soon giggling and hitting him with a cushion. The meal had been too
good for me, and although I too wanted to play and touch it was not
long before I had fallen asleep.
   When I awoke in the dim hours of the night, the pinkish-white light
of the moon shone through the French doors onto David, lying beneath a
dishevelled and sprawling Parvati. I lifted her off and placed her in
the chair near her husband, trying carefully not to wake either of
them. Parvati, her eyes closed, murmured something in my ear that was
too thick to understand. I shook my head and she kissed my ear,
licking the lobe with her small, cat-like tongue.
   "Come on," I whispered to David, touching him on the shoulder. He
woke up in a daze, raising his hands uncertainly off the sticky couch
but otherwise making no moves to rise. In the kitchen I collected my
bag and waited a minute for David. When I went back to the lounge he
was asleep again, and I roused him and went to the toilet. When I came
back he slept soundly on.
   Neha's room was surprisingly large and comfortable given the size
of the rest of the house. Her books lay scattered, in an organised
sort of way, across the desk, and the chair was determinedly pushed
back. The desk lamp was still on. Neha lay face down on the bed. Why
did such a pretty, nice girl wear a g-string like that? Her bottom was
perfectly smooth and round. My white penis, even semi-erect,
contrasted with her brown skin when I laid it atop those mounds. I
pushed back and forth a little and a sticky trail was left behind. She
did not wake; the poor girl had been studying all day. I tentatively
climbed aboard. When the string of her panties had been pulled aside
the head of my cock slid easily up and down her slit. I milked myself
into the crevasse. Now the round brown valley had a drooling white
creek, a thick dribble of fertility, with a few peppered globules of
clear indulgence on the banks. I withdrew from Neha, from the room,
and then awaking David again, from the house. I told him everything I
had done and he was pleased for me, expressing his best wishes that I
had made her pregnant; but I told him I had not penetrated, she would
not be pregnant, but perhaps she would be surprised when she awoke to
find the wet mess around her genitals.

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