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Message-ID: <58088asstr$1220195402@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Daniel Waterhouse <mingevinge@yahoo.co.uk>
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Subject: {ASSM} Nostalgia (MF rp)
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Date: Sun, 31 Aug 2008 11:10:02 -0400
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The author does not condone the bad things the characters do in
this story. Do not read this if you're not legally allowed to on
pain of whatever your government does to people it hates for no
good reason. This story may not be reproduced without my
permission.

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Nostalgia (MF rp)
by Daniel Waterhouse

In retrospect I think that going to the school reunion might have
been a mistake. I hated school although I was what is
conventionally labeled as good and I got high marks in tests. But
I hated being forced to do lots of crap that I would never use.
I'm not going to France so I don't need to do French. So why dd I
have to do it? Because my time had to be sacrificed to the god
call Education so I could pass a test and forget all the French I
ever knew 5 seconds later. I could have spent that time doing
something interesting but instead I was stuck with learning a
language in which windows are labelled as female. French sucks as
a language partly because this sex labelling forces you to learn
about a million totally arbitrary rules that have absolutely no
point. Every language has some stuff like that but to build it in
on the ground floor is just plain stupid.

Another reason I hated school was the people - they were boring.
The pupils were meant to be learning but they didn't give a rat's
ass 90% of the time, not that I blame them but they were boring
as a result. The teachers were worse. They were idiots who had
the impression they were founts of wisdom. But I digress.

The reunion was basically a big piss up held in the old school
gym with a bunch of people who knew each other 20 years ago and
hadn't exchanged a word since pretending they had something in
common with one another, while storing up bitchy things to say
about one another in their heads on the car ride home with their
spouses. I quickly got bored with all the cronyism and the bad
music being played so loudly you couldn't hear anyone talk and
started to wander round the school. I'd say everything looked
smaller but I left school at 18 and hadn't grown much since then
so it didn't.

I was standing by the blackboard wondering whether one of the
side entrances to the school would be open so I could sneak out
when Claire walked in. "Well, hello, so this is where you're
holed up Bill," said Claire. I nodded.

Claire was the only girlfriend I had in school. She had long
blonde hair, five and a half feet tall, she had green eyes, a
smile that could melt butter at a distance of fifty feet and she
always smelled really great. She was dressed in a silvery sequiny
dress and had a similarly garish handbag and seemed slightly
unsteady on her feet. I'm about five feet ten and not especially
ugly and so she agreed to go out with me. After managing to put
up with her limited conversational repertoire (gossip)  for a
couple of dates I had a quick fumble with her in high school but
lost my wad and couldn't get it up again, leading her to give me
a delightful nickname.

"So how you doing Bill, or should I say Limp Willy?"

At this point I felt a sudden rush of anger and reached for the
gun in my left trouser pocket. Yes, I have a gun. You see I'm a
criminal, a gun for hire, and the beauty of living in Britain is
the government's banned all law abiding people from having guns,
so there's no downside to me reaching for mine. Claire's not
going to shoot me because although she's a stupid spiteful bitch,
she's basically law abiding and so has no gun. I love gun laws.

Claire looked at the gun and went pale. "What the hell is this?
Is this some kind of joke?"

The feeling of power over her gave me a rush and my cock had
hardened in my pants. "After today, you'll never call me Limp
Willy again. Kneel."

"Fuck off," said she, such a way with words.

I cocked the gun with a nice loud click. "Kneel."

She looked at the gun and then back at my face hoping for a trace
of compassion or some sign that I wasn't serious but she found
nothing. She knelt in front of me.

"Slip the straps off your shoulders and show me your tits." I
took out my hard cock and put the gun to her head with my right
hand, fondling her breasts with my left hand. "You're going to
suck it. And if you try anything cute like biting it off, it'll
be the last thing you ever do."

She took my prick into her warm moist mouth, tears tricking down
her face taking her mascara with it. My dick's only about five
inches long so she was able to get quite a lot of it into her
mouth. Her tongue moved around the head of my cock and she moved
her head back and forth slightly until I came in her mouth.
"Swallow," said I, "wouldn't want to mess up the classroom."

I stepped back, keeping the gun on her. "Hike up your dress, take
off your panties and bend over one of the desks."

"But..." she said.

"There's only one butt I'm interested in," I said.

She hiked up her dress and dropped her panties then walked a
couple of feet over to a desk and bent over. I stepped over,
poking the gun into her spine hard enough for her to feel it and
felt her cunt: it was dry. "Not enjoying the festivities? Such a
shame." I grabbed her handbag and backed away, keeping the gun
trained on her.

I put the handbag on the teacher's desk and rooted through it
with my left hand. After a few seconds I found a tube of
something and took it out: moisturiser. Disappointing. I rooted
around a little more and then found another tube: lube this time.
I tutted. "KY jelly, not my favourite, but then we must all make
sacrifices."

I squeezed some of the lube onto my dick with my left hand and
then spread it on. My cock got hard again as I stroked the lube
onto it. I walked up to her, jammed the gun into the base of her
skull and stuck my sticky left hand into her snatch, spreading
the lube around.

Then I eased my dick into her fuck hole, which was nice and
tight. "Mmmm, that's good."

I started pumping. Claire stayed silent, moving only as a result
of my pounding. After a few minutes I came, she didn't.

After I was done I backed away and picked up her panties on the
way. I wiped my prick on them and threw then over to her. "Put
them back on."

She stared daggers at me, but did as I said and put her dress
back in order.

"Well, it's been lovely having you," I said, "but alas I must
fly."

I left the school, walked to my car and drove away without
incident. Yes, in retrospect going back to my school reunion was
a mistake, bound to stir up bad memories and all that. And the
rape? Well, she might report it and I might get caught, or not. I
don't think it was really worth the risk but even if I go to
prison there are still ways for me to profit from it: lots of
people in prison who people with lots of money want killed or
intimidated. And I have lots of secret bank accounts. I'll be
fine.

The End

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