index


Message-ID: <61538asstr$1317859827@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Shon Richards <shonrichards@yahoo.com>
Reply-To: Shon Richards <shonrichards@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Oral Tradition (M/F, Oral, Librarians)
Lines: 223
Date: Wed, 05 Oct 2011 20:10:27 -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


<1st attachment, "OralTradition.doc" begin>

This erotic story was written by me, Shon Richards.  Please do
not reprint on your website, blog, love letters to your lover etc
without asking me first.  I have yet to refuse a reprint but
let's just be polite about it, okay?

You can write to me at shonrichards at yahoo.com.  I will be
delighted to hear your comments.

Find out what I am up to at http://erotiterrorist.blogspot.com/
as well as read my more current work. 


"Oral Tradition"
By Shon Richards

Mr. Dillon checked his watch.  It was 8 p.m.  He had been
cataloging erotic books for the last hour and half.  His
assistant, the lovely Ms. Currie, had been carefully cleaning the
leather bound editions of 'Story of O' that they had acquired
this morning.  

He noted that she had her back to the hotel clock.  It made him
smile.  He knew she did it to prevent herself from checking the
clock every other minute.

Ms. Currie loved story time.

Mr. Dillon swiveled in his chair to face her.  He unzipped his
pants and pulled his cock from out of his boxers.  Like a good
librarian, Ms. Currie made no comment until called upon.

"Ms. Currie," he said.

Ms. Currie calmly put away the book she was cleaning.  She wiped
her hands and put away the cloth she was using.  Ms. Currie rose
from the chair and walked over to Mr. Dillon with quiet grace. 
In a single fluid motion, she dropped down to her knees before
his cock.

"That was very professional," Mr. Dillon said.  "However in the
future you might want to not smile so much.  It makes you look
like an eager cocksucker."

Ms. Claire's smile didn't falter.  "I will keep that in mind, Mr.
Dillon."

"Your blouse," he said.

He loved this part though he would never admit it to her.  Vanity
can so ruin a librarian quicker than even television.  Ms. Currie
slowly unbuttoned her blouse.  Button by button, the white blouse
opened to reveal her dark skin and her impressive cleavage.  The
shirt opening widened to unveil the lacy bra that held in her
epic breasts.  Because it was a Saturday, the bra was a deep
purple.  

The blouse came off but the bra stayed.  When she moved, her
breasts jiggled within their lace confines.  If Mr. Dillon was an
artist instead of a librarian, his gallery would be filled with
Ms. Currie's breasts.

She looked up at him, over her glasses.  Ms. Currie was waiting
for him to begin.

"Today's history lesson takes place in 1928," Mr. Dillon began. 
That was Ms. Currie's signal to place her hands behind her back
and to lean forward.  She opened her mouth and reached out with
her tongue.  His cock bobbed before her but she guided him in
with her tongue.  She took his entire length into his mouth.

"A rare scroll, called the Tale of the Snake, had been discovered
in Cairo," Mr. Dillon continued.   "It had been discovered by one
of the many British archeologists who were looting Egpytian tombs
at the time, but because if its pornographic nature, the prudish
British discoverer left it to one of his native assistants.  That
assistant, a Mr. Mubarak, was holding onto the scroll and refused
to sell it to the collection."

Mr. Dillon paused for effect.  He also paused because Ms. Currie
was licking the ridges of the tip of his cock.  Her full lips
formed a seal over his cock that was quite delightful.

"So the librarian of the Colette-Ashbee Collection decided to go
to Egypt personally to try to acquire the scroll.  I said it
1928, who was the librarian of the time?"

Ms. Currie mumbled an answer without taking his cock out of her
mouth.  Months of practice allowed Mr. Dillon to understand her
answer.

"Correct, it was Ms. Tamara Furtunatov," Mr. Dillon said.  "And
what a fine woman she was; a Russian scholar and a relentless
procurer of books.  She came from a time when the Collection only
hired women with fortitude and excessive talent, not the mere
college graduates we hire now."

Ms. Currie glared at him from behind her glasses.  The glare was
tempered by the way her cheeks were sucked tight against his
cock.

"Anyway," Mr. Dillon continued.  "Ms. Tamara Furtunatov traveled
to Cairo and appealed personally to Mr. Mubarak.  Her pleas fell
on deaf ears for he would not allow the Tale of the Snake to
leave the country.  Ms. Furtunatov did however negotiate to be
allowed to copy the scroll, so that the Colette-Ashbee Collection
could at least have a copy.  She was forbidden from photographing
it, so she had to copy it by hand."

Ms. Currie tilted her neck back and forth, stroking his cock as
her head swiveled on his cock.  Each turn of her head also made
her breasts jiggle wonderfully within her bra.  Mr. Dillon wanted
to reach down and squeeze them but he resisted.  He needed to get
back to the story.

"There was a condition," Mr. Dillon continued.  "Mr. Mubarak
would only allow Ms. Furtunatov to work on it during the day. 
When night fell, she had to make love to him.  She was only
allowed to continue work the next morning."

Ms. Currie stopped her fantastic head movement and looked up at
him.

"Oh, I know," Mr. Dillon said.  "We are librarians, not
prostitutes.  We never trade sex for books.  Ms. Furtunatov felt
that this did not fall under the rules for she was not receiving
a book in turn; she was merely receiving the chance to copy a
book.  It is my understanding that the Owners of the Collection
were not amused but they agreed with her logic."

Mr. Dillon looked down on his assistant.  "Keep that in mind, Ms.
Currie.  There are rules, but there is also a book of erotica to
be gained.  There is no higher goal."

"From what I read of Ms. Furtunatov's journals, her days of
transcribing the scroll were an ordeal.  They were not
translated, so Ms. Furtunatov was literally redrawing the
hieroglyphics of the scroll.  It was only her own superb training
in Egyptology that allowed her to do such a feat.  Even still, it
was very slow going.  She barely was able to copy 1/20th of the
scroll on the first day."

Ms. Currie was burying her face in Mr. Dillon's lap.  His cock
was at the back of her throat.  Her nose and chin were resting in
his pubic hair.  He could feel her breathe so close to him.  Mr.
Dillon's cock was completely encased in her wonderful mouth.

"Her nights were worse.  Mr. Mubarak was a demanding lover.  He
consumed a strange liquid every night that gave him the ability
to fuck for hours.  He was also fond of her ass, and would butt
fuck her for hours.  Ms. Furtunatov wrote that his cock was
enormous in comparison to her bottom's entry, so you can imagine
what that was like."

Ms. Currie whimpered a little.

"Oh please," Mr. Dillon said.  "My fucking of your ass last night
was nothing.  It was barely an hour.  Ms. Furtunatov has to
endure an entire night of her bottom being violated.  Besides,
your round ass is much better suited for such activity.  Ms.
Furtunatov was a notoriously small bottom."

Ms. Currie choked on his cock.  Laughter was an occupational
hazard for a librarian.  Ms. Currie composed herself and kept
sucking.

"After three days of this, Ms. Furtunatov made a discovery," Mr.
Dillon said.  "She realized that some of the hieroglyphs were
anachronistic.  They were from the wrong dynasty.  After a little
research, she deduced that the entire scroll was a fraud."
Mr. Dillon paused for effect.  He could tell by the slowing of
Ms. Currie's tongue that she was digesting this information.  He
waited till she looked back up at him over her glasses.

"After discovering this, Ms. Furtunatov said nothing to her host.
 She continued on, transcribing the scroll and submitting to Mr.
Murbarak for another twenty-two nights.  When she was finished,
she sent her findings to the Collection.  She also walked with a
limp for about three months."

Ms. Currie looked up at him.  She was expecting some sort of
explanation.

Mr. Dillon was too focused on his immediate orgasm.   He grabbed
the back of her head and pushed her down on his cock.  He held
her by the bun of her hair as she sucked harder.  When he
climaxed, he allowed himself a satisfied groan as he emptied
himself down her throat.  

Ms. Currie was skilled enough to wait till every drop had been
drained from him.  When he was finished, she pulled his cock
out.

"Mr. Dillon, why did she stay?" she asked.  "If the scroll was a
fake, what was the value of copying it?

"Because Ms. Currie," Mr. Dillon said.  "It was still erotica. 
Written today or written centuries ago, all erotica has value. 
Except maybe that shit they write on the Internet."

Ms. Currie smirked at that.  "Thank for today's story," she
said.

Mr. Dillon waved it away.  "You are welcome.  The oral tradition
is still the best."       

The end.

If you enjoyed this story please drop me a line at shonrichards
at yahoo.com.
Or visit my blog at http://erotiterrorist.blogspot.com/
          

<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}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+