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From: Bud Red <redbud@inbox.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Quickie - Yes - by Redbud
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Date: Thu, 01 May 2008 16:10:02 -0400
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Quickie - "Yes" - by Redbud

[Subject to revision- hopefully, improvement. I'll post this on
the newsgroup once I've let the story sit for a day or so. As
always, forgive my failings - my wordiness. I wrote this in
response to a reader who said she liked urgency and good/girl
bad/girl eroticism.]  		

	Darren left all but one piece of luggage in the car.
	He couldn't breathe. Sex. He was thinking about her tits, her
pussy and her muscular thighs, open, the soft lips parting
between them, just the way she should be - his cock slipping
between and inside. `She'. Just saying the world made him hard.
He ached. He would be quick with her.
	He used his back to push open the door to her apartment.
	He could hear Sage talking. Shit! Was a friend here? Darren's
stomach hurt in only the way a 19 year old's stomach can hurt. He
wanted to fuck. He had spent the whole drive home imagining her
on her back, on her knees from behind, on the edge of a counter
top (any counter top), on top of him, riding him, cumming, the
smell of her arousal. Jesus. He adjusted himself.
	He followed her voice. She was in the kitchen on the headset
phone. Thank god. She was wearing one of her summer skirts, one
piece and sleeveless. Her reddish blonde hair was pulled back in
a single braid. She was making a salad, tearing lettuce into a
bowl. He walked behind her and pressed himself against her. She
gasped, almost screaming.
	"No," she said. "Darren's home... early... he surprised me..."
	They had talked on the phone. They had talked about missing each
other. She was supposed to be naked. She was supposed to be
waiting for him on the couch, naked and wet. When she turned to
kiss him she answered his gaze with a defeated shrug and mouthed
words: mother breaking up; father-in-law.
	She held up her fingers - five minutes. She returned to her
conversation; and her salad. He stayed behind her, looking at her
shoulders, lightly holding her waist, studying her round ass and
his groin pressed against it. She had a great ass. The posture of
every woman is different, more so than men, or so he thought.
Sage's posture was the kind he liked the most. The small of her
back was more arched and curved than most women's. It thrust her
ass backwards, her taut belly forward, as though she were always
ready to be taken from behind, everywhere she walked or stood -
especially in a bathing suit. He had fucked her before, quickly,
in a pool, pressed behind her, her bikini bottom cinched to one
side. She didn't even have to bend- as if nature had made the
"perfect" woman, always ready and easily penetrated.
	He lusted for her every day, and loved her.
	He missed her. He didn't want to wait. He pressed his sex
against her ass and she subtly pressed back against him. He moved
his hands up to her breasts. They were big and pushed against her
dress. He could feel her nipples, hardening.
	Sage swatted his hands away and pushed him away with her ass. 
Sage's mother had just stopped sobbing uncontrollably. She was
managing to speak between hiccups. Darren felt huge and she
wanted to feel him around her and his hugeness inside her - that
beautiful cock curving mischievously upward, massaging her
insides, robbing her of control. But he could wait, just five
minutes.
	Darren groaned and walked stiffly to the kitchen table. He
unzipped the one bag he brought inside. Sex toys. He had packed
them in his carry-on bag just in case the airline lost everything
else. He had been stupidly embarrassed when the X-Ray tech was a
beautiful woman, but what she knew set off his fantasies.
	She had asked him to open the bag. He refused. He accompanied
her into a "securitized" room.  Turn them on, she said. He turned
on a dildo. She gazed at it, then at him expectantly. 'Turn
around,' he said. She did. 'Hands on the wall,' he said. He
lowered the Dildo, lifted the grey skirt of her uniform, pushed
aside her panties, and pushed the dildo up into her. She threw
her head back and moaned. Her moved her panties back, the dildo
held inside her. Her eyes grew wide. She gasped and gyrated her
hip as he unbuttoned his pants. She fell to her knees when the
first pre-orgasmic spasm snapped her hips. 'Turn around,' he
said. She did, still on her knees. Her lips opened and he pushed
his cock into her mouth. She held him by his hips. He held her
head. Her hips gyrated around the dildo until she shook with
orgasm. He spurted into her mouth, turning her moans to swallows.
	Anyway, that's how one of the fantasies went. It needed work.
	Sage glanced at him, then looked intently as he put the dildo on
the table. Anal beads. Lubricant. Flavors. A glass butt plug. A
ball gag. Hand cuffs. Silk rope and even a dildo harness, for
her. He was going to fuck `her', and hard. He could see her
breathing a little more erratically as she watched him, when she
saw what he meant to do to her, and when she saw all the ways she
would cum. She tried not to show her arousal as she listened and
spoke with her mother but her nipples were hard. She was turned
on.
	He held up the butt plug.
	`No,' she mouthed.
	He held up the cuffs.
	`No!' she mouthed. She held up her fingers. Just four more
minutes.
	He walked toward her. She didn't move. She knew that look. She
loved that look. It frightened her. It was male, urgent, and all
about her.  Her femaleness. He needed to fuck her. Now.  Fuck,
her mother was sobbing again.
	Darren wasn't fooled. Her mouth was open, aroused, and she was
absent mindedly leaning with her elbows on the counter top, her
back arched, her ass raised and readied. He moved slowly behind
her. She watched him from the corner of her eye, but didn't move.
He pushed up her dress, slowly, enjoying how the fabric slid
upward over the smooth swell of her hips. She wasn't wearing
panties.  He enjoyed slowly revealing her pussy, little by
little. The first pussy he had seen in two weeks. His
girlfriend's pussy. His lover's pussy. His pussy. He pushed up
the dress until it gathered at the small of her back and inhaled
the smell of her. The skin of her hips and ass was smooth and
soft, all folding inward to the small, shaved, kiss of fur around
the entry to her belly.
	He reached under her, up under her dress and cupped her heavy
breasts. He could feel her stifling a groan as she answered her
mother. Her nipples were hard. He squeezed her breasts, as if
milking them, until just the nub of her nipples passed between
the hard pinch of his fingers. Her back arched and her head
rolled back. It had been so long since she had been touched.
Fuck. The hard touch of a boy's fingers on her breasts, that had
always been hidden for so long, was still new to her. Boys were
still new to her. Their penises were still new to her. She was
young. In love. He let go and backed away.
	He backed away and unzipped. His beautiful cock sprung out,
arching upward from his body. He was going to fuck her! Her pussy
tingled with emptiness. She wanted that fullness, still so new to
her body. No! Jesus! Her mother was on the phone! Her mother!
	Darren watched her suddenly dart from the kitchen. She was
running in that girlish way that emphasized her curves, her hips
and sex. He watched her like a drunk, for an instant, before he
bolted after her. He couldn't wait another four minutes. That
ass, that pussy, and belly belonged to him. His  arm was around
her waist before she could reach the bedroom door, close it, and
lock it. His other hand was pushing between her shoulder blades,
bending her forward, bending her over, pushing her down to her
knees.  Right here?
	"Yes..." she breathed.
	`Are you ok?' -  her mother had asked.
	Sage's stomach felt light. Not here. Not on the floor! Not right
now! She tried to crawl forward but he pulled her back by her
hips - her flaring hips that made it so easy for a man to hold
her, to pull her back, to mount her. She felt him push his hard
arousal against her sex. Only her flimsy dress was between him
and her soft opening. She reached behind her to push him away
even as she opened her legs. The cuff he had been holding clicked
closed around her wrist. No! He pulled her other hand behind her
and the other wrist was imprisoned. She was helpless! She had her
headset phone on! Fuck! And only then did she realize she
couldn't hang up!
	The phone conversation continued.
	Darren grabbed her long braid and pulled her head up. She could
see herself in the mirror on the far wall of the bedroom. Her
large breasts were hanging down, nipples hard and grazing the
carpet, her hands locked behind her back. Darren was behind her,
gazing back at her, pushing up her skirt. She knew that look. How
many boys had looked at her like that - sometimes complete
strangers, older men, teenaged boys. And she was on her knees
now, bent over, just the way every one of them had imagined her.
She needed to stop...
	"Uh... Yes!" she answered her mother as she felt the familiar,
engorged roundness of her boyfriend stretch open the entry to her
belly - impatiently, demanding. Her eyes rolled. Fuck! He was
big! Her mother was still talking to her! And she... oh... he was
filling her, pushing into her, watching her expression as he
filled her. Uh! Her hands twisted ineffectually in her cuffs as
the penis pushed into and filled the deep entry to her belly. Uh!
All the way! - The feeling! - A another person inside her body! -
The smooth, warm penetration of his cock, shaping her insides
around itself, filling her, reminding her of all the time she had
been empty.
	He didn't move. He held himself inside her- simply enjoying her
- the most enjoyable sensation a man will ever have- a woman's
warm, wet depths gripping his cock. He looks down at his
girlfriend's narrow waist, flaring hips, her ass pressed tightly
against his pelvis. He reaches under her and feels her taut, flat
belly, knowing the full length of his penis is inside it. He
moves slightly, exhaling at the silky feel of her depths,
perfectly kissing and massaging the bulb of his cock as he
withdraws - perfectly made for this, for his cock, for him.
	"Yes!" she says to her mother, her `yes' a little too throaty -
-a `Yes' a little too penetrated and filled with cock.
	He was beginning to fuck her. He was fucking... oh... hard!
Fast! She was seeing something she had never seen before. She was
really seeing a young woman being fucked, on her knees, her hands
bound behind her back. She was seeing herself in the mirror.
	"Yes! she stuttered, as she answered another of her mother's
questions.
	The man behind the young woman had pushed her dress completely
forward. Her large breasts bumped the carpet as he fucked her.
She was watching a porno flick, feeling everything the woman felt
- the carpet roughly licking her nipples, making her sex clamp
down on the cock moving impatiently in and out of her. The
woman's expression was open mouthed, surprised, penetrated. She
regretted not having masturbated.  Please... she mouthed.
Don't... don't make me cum! She gazed pleadingly at her boyfriend
but he returned her gaze, oblivious, intent on his own pleasure.
He had her. She was helpless. What he wanted wouldn't wait.
	"Ye..." she stuttered. "Yes..."
	`Don't ever put yourself in a position you can't get out of...'
her mother warned.
	She opened her legs as if to make room for his size. Her knees
felt hot against the carpet. His mouth was open with the sheer
pleasure of her, sometimes looking at her expression, sometimes
looking at her body. He was fucking her with masculine urgency,
greed, pleasure and impatience. Her breath shuddered with each
thrust and her wetness was running down her thighs. Maybe she had
always fantasized about being wanted like this, used like this
and taken by a man, just like this. He was crazed by her; and she
loved him for it. She loved the way he needed her - every part of
her, his need to be inside her, to see her naked, to fuck her and
cum in her. She loved his desire - the urgency of it. And it was
still new to her - being fucked by a man. She felt like she was
barely out of her adolescence before she was a woman - grownup,
on her knees, being fucked from behind. She barely contained a
groan as he drove his cock deeply into her and he held himself
there.
	"Yes!" she answered, almost moaning.
	`Don't let a man control your life,' her mother had just warned
her, sobbing.
	Don't make me cum! But she was going to cum. Her young body was
reacting exactly the way it was designed to - racing toward its
own fruition.  She had lost control. She was going to cum - the
orgasm was being pushed into her belly with every thrust of his
cock.
	Then he pulled out of her and stood. She almost cried out when
she felt his warmth leave the inside of her body. She gazed up at
him, pleading. Just give her one more minute. Phone? Sex? Which?
But he wasn't meeting her gaze. He was enjoying the site of this
woman, his girlfriend and lover,  on her knees, hands behind her
back, bent forward, finally, all but naked, her sex wet, swollen
and open, ready to be soaked and filled with his juice. He ran
has hand back and forth on his cock. This is what he had wanted
for two weeks. This.
	He knelt behind her, his cock in one hand, ready to finish what
he stared. Sage never felt so much like a woman - a sexual woman
- made for pleasure, receptive, desirable. Her mother was
almost... uhn... he was inside her again.
	"Yes!" she said.
	`Next week?' her mother asked her.
	"Yes," she said again, jolted by the thrusts from behind. "Yes,
I'll come."
	He pulled her head back by her braid. She watched the woman in
the mirror. Maybe what surprised her most is that she looked no
different from any other woman she ever seen, being fucked, being
taken. Her hips flared upward behind her narrow waist, opened to
the man behind her. Her heavy breasts swung under her as she was
mated - promising, someday,  milk and nourishment. Her smooth,
flat belly was pliant and complaint, full of a man's cock,
promising to, someday, swell with his effluence. Her mouth was
open in a silent cry, her brows knitted with the promised agony
of her surrender. She looked no different. She was like all the
women that had come before her and all that would come `from'
her. But she looked a little different. She was wearing a headset
phone and still had her heavy glasses on, and yet her she was,
naked, on her knees, her sex opened wide and penetrated from
behind, in a position as old and primal as male and female.
	And her boyfriend looked no different from any of the men in the
flicks she had watched, except that this was the man she loved.
His chest was broad, his stomach was smooth and muscular, his
rhythm assured and confident, masculine. His thrusts were
measured, deep. He pulled back until her lips wetly closed at the
tip of him, then he opened them, thrusting forward until her lips
were stretched around the base of him, and the tip of him pressed
deeply against her womb. They were their bodies.
        'Next week?' her mother asked.
	"Yes!" she gasped. "Mom, I'm going to come!"
	Please don't! Ple... please don't! But she did. She watched,
fascinated, as the woman in the mirror twisted her hands in the
cuff, as her spine arched with each contraction, lifting her sex
upward like a cup shamelessly waiting to be filled. Uh... she
wanted to grunt, gasp... uhn... whimper, scream. She felt it all.
Each of the woman's contractions robbed her breath, made her sex
clamp down on the cock filling it, made her heavy breasts bounce
under her, made her eyes heavy as though she had been drugged,
stretched her mouth into the wide open cry of an O - just like
every woman she had ever seen - orgasming on a man's cock. Her
mother was asking her a question, waiting, but she couldn't
answer. She couldn't... she couldn't breathe. Her daughter was
having an orgasm.
	`You know you're still my little girl,' her mother said again.
	"Yes..." she finally answered, spreading her knees and arching
as she felt her lover's fluids spurt inside her from behind,
again, again, again, helpless to stop him. She could almost feel
her belly being filled, warm with his juices. Finally, after two
weeks of emptiness, she would be carrying her lover's desire
inside her. It would seep out of her at night, when she was
sleeping, during the day when she worked, always reminding her of
his lust, of that part of her that he needed again and again. She
loved the feeling.
	`You'll stand on your own two feet,' her mother said, `and
promise to be good?'
	"Yes..." Sage breathed, her thighs apart and wet.
	Darren groaned as a last contraction spurted inside her. He
hadn't masturbated in a week. His cum was already dripping out of
her, collecting at the meeting of her lips and dripping from her
clit. He leaned back. Sage watched, her breathing deep, her hands
still bound behind her. He leaned forward and put the clear,
glass butt plug in front of her, just below her mouth. He was
still hard, his hand moved back and forth over his glistening
cock. He was still enjoying her beauty, the site of her nakedness
and womanly shape. The dusty smell of the carpet was mixing with
their own pungent smells, dripping from both of them.
	`Promise?' her mother asked again.
	Uh! He was inside her again, filling her, fucking her again.
	"Yes..."
	`You'll be good?'
	"Yes!" she said. 'I'll be good' - and she lowered her mouth over
the butt plug, getting it wet - getting it ready.

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