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Fundament Fundamentals

Ass is magic. The lush roundness, the curves . . . The Curve.

That most elegant and sensual of all geometric shapes — the

vertically split oval, the inverted catenary, the upside-down heart.

The ass. It releases nauseating, evil-smelling waste and emits

noxious gas . . . it’s the exit passage for lumps of shit and

rotten-smelling farts. It’s the symbol of all that is unclean. And

yet, by some strange alchemy, it becomes the most highly-charged

and sensual body part. It’s an obsession, a ruling passion, a

crystallization of purpose.

Remember how weird and disgusting even the plain vanilla sex act

seemed when you first learned about it at age 10? Well, anal sex was

even more disgusting when you found out about *that*. “Cornholing,

that’s what queers do when they have sex. One guy sticks his dick

into the other guy’s asshole and fucks him up his shit tube.” That

image haunted you for years. Even the word “corn” conjured up demons.

The very idea of fucking an ass is explosive. Forbidden fruit. It’s

perverted. It’s nauseating. It’s magnificent. Vaginal sex is, at best,

a pale imitation.

The higher the barrier, the more difficult the passage, the stronger

the resistance, the stickier the lock — the more explosive the

energy release when you break through.

The ass is the entrance to the Mysteries. Just insert yourself

into the keyhole and plunge. Open the door. Enter the chamber of

hidden delights. Welcome to a higher order of existence.

——————————————————————-

Val’s next girlfriend, happily, was into ass play. (He had made damn

certain of that before they got too deeply involved.) It didn’t take

much persuasion for her to try anal. Their first attempt was rather

pathetic in its clumsiness and not much fun for either of them. Too eager,

too impatient . . . he had pushed too hard trying to get into her back

passage. Too little lube. She was too dry and it hurt a bit. He came

while still stuck fast in her outer ring.

Marsha took him firmly in hand after that. She had done some reading

and judicious asking on the methods and techniques of ass fucking.

“Val, dear Val. Let me guide you through this. You’ll do it exactly as

I say, and you’ll be patient, too . . . or I’ll chop off your . . .

“First, we need a higher quality grade of lube. Not that cheap shit you

got at the corner drugstore. And we won’t skimp on it, either.

“Next, you’ll turn me on with pussy stroking and clit sucking before

I let you anywhere near my asshole. Make me come once or twice. Three

times is even better.

“Finally, listen. Listen to me. Me! The boss. When I’m ready to let you

stick anything into my ass, I’ll let you know loud and clear.

“Yes! That’s good. I’m going to lean forward and bend over those pillows

and stick my ass into the air. It’ll be totally open to you.

“All right. Prepare me with a finger inside, and plenty of lube on it,

don’t forget. Now two fingers. Twirl them around. Stretch me. Loosen me

up. Lube me up inside. Now lube yourself up. Slather it on. Get ready

to slide in now. Ready?”

Boy, was he ever. He positioned himself at the entrance to her ass and

pressed forward gently. The dick head slowly disappeared, and with a sort

of liquid pop, he was past the entrance. There was almost no resistance

now, and he slowly slid in deeper. Inch by inch, his shaft submerged

into her darkness. The front of his thighs bumped against the curve of

…End of the part1. To be continued..

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At the time of this story my Dena was 29 years old, about 5′ 5″
with stylish blond hair. She’s trim and without doubt her face and
ass are her best assets. She is a former state beauty pageant
winner and her features are smooth and defined, like her
personality. She’s a knock out in a bikini and enjoys the attention
she gets form other men.

We had heard of men who encourage and enjoy watching their spouse
have sex with other men. We were fascinated and aroused by reading
such stories in magazines about swinging and mate sharing and I
often fantasized about seeing my wife screw another man. Dena and
I had talked about a threesome but I never really thought it would
happen. That was until four years ago.

Shortly after accepting a new sales position that required
extensive travel I began to suspect Dena of having an affair. The
idea of her falling in love with another man didn’t enter into my
thoughts but I was convinced that she was seeing someone. I
secretly hoped my suspicions were true and often made excuses that
I had to stay out of town overnight when it wasn’t really required.

Many times I would lay awake fantasizing about Dena with another
man as I lay alone in my motel room. I imagined her rushing off to
meet her lover as soon as our nightly phone conversation ended. On
several occasions I waited ten or fifteen minutes and called home
again only to hear up to five minutes of unanswered ringing. I
would do this every half hour or so until around one or two in the
morning she would answer the phone. I always hung up without saying
anything. I never told Dena that I had called back and she never
said anything about going out anywhere.

This behavior continued for about two or three weeks and just when
I had made plans to try and catch her she started answering each
time I called home. Dena began to complain that someone was calling
and hanging up the phone when she answered so I waited much longer
between calls.

I became disappointed because now it seemed that my suspicions were
unfounded or the affair had ended. I began fantasizing about ways
of having her seduced when another set of events began occurring.

I was at our local club having a drink at the bar when a neighbor
I knew only slightly came in and took the stool next to mine. Our
conversation was casual but he asked a question that caused me to
rethink my doubts about Dena and a possible affair.

During our conversation our neighbor asked how I liked my new car.
At first I thought he was talking about my new company car which is
a Buick. I told him that I really liked the car and that I was very
satisfied with the gas milage. It wasn’t until he said how he too
would like to have such a car but that he certainly couldn’t afford
anything so expensive. I knew a Buick was well within his means so
he A) Had me confused with someone else. Or B) Someone driving an
expensive automobile was visiting my house.

Without acting surprised I told my neighbor that I had gotten a
very good deal and that it really hadn’t cost as much as he might
think. This seemed to satisfy him and our conversation moved to
other subjects, although I’m not sure what we talked about because
I was thinking about the strange automobile parking in my drive. I
revived my plans to see if Dena was having an affair.

The following Monday I told Dena that my duties would require me to
be out of town until Friday night. As always she seemed
disappointed but accepted that it had to be. I on the other hand
imagined that she was already preparing to invite her lover into
our bed.

I drove to a local hotel and checked in for four nights. I parked
my car in the hotel’s indoor lot so it couldn’t be easily seen. I
then called Avis and rented a completely different car making sure
it was of a completely different color.

I made the necessary business phone calls from my hotel room but
remained in the room and out of view until darkness. Around 7pm I
called home as I had always done when away. After my brief
conversation with Dena I called room service for dinner and watched
TV. By 9pm I had waited as long as I could.

Driving the rental car past my house I was mildly disappointed to
see only the normal house lights and only Dena’s car in our drive.
I drove around town until I made another pass by our house around
9:30pm. Even more disappointment when I saw only Dena’s car in our
drive. I continued to drive around until I made a third pass by the
house around 9:45pm. Nothing had changed and I was now really
disappointed. I wanted to catch my wife with another man but it
seemed it wouldn’t happen tonight.

I had driven about half way down one of the two main entrance roads
leading to our subdivision when a 530 Mersadies sports car passed
going in the direction of my house. I quickly took the next turn
and turned my car around. The Mersadies tail lights were still
visible and about a quarter of a mile ahead. I closed the distance
between us slightly but made sure to remain well back.

My heart was racing and I was wondering. Was this the car my
neighbor had been talking about? The Merrsadies made a left turn
onto the street our house was on. This had to be the car that had
been parking in my drive I thought. “Please be the car.” I said
aloud to myself. I passed the street leading to my house knowing
that I could see our drive clearly only a few hundred yards ahead.

As I slowed and looked in the direction of my house I saw the
Mersadies head lights as it pulled into my drive. I almost shouted
knowing this had to be my wife’s lover. I turned my car into the
street that ran behind our house. Knowing the house directly behind
ours was vacant I pulled into the drive and killed the lights.

I waited a few minutes then got out of the rental and keeping to
the shadows I slowly jogged into my back yard. Remaining in the
shadows I approached the side of my house and made my way to the
den window. I knew there was little chance that I would be seen but
I had worn dark clothing and was being a quite as possible as I
looked into the window.

There on my sofa sat a man of about 45 years I had never seen. He
was certainly well dressed and clean looking. “So this was Dena’s
lover and I approve.” I thought to myself. Then found myself
wondering how large his cock was and did Dena give this man head as
she had often done for me. If she did give him head did she allow
him to cum in her mouth or did they only fuck straight? Did they
use protection? I hoped they didn’t. For some reason I hoped he
would cum inside Dena.

Dena entered the den carrying drinks. She handed her friend a glass
and sat down beside him. Before taking a drink both my wife and her
friend placed their drinks on the sofa table and locked themselves
in a very passionate embrace. As the kissed I noticed this man was
unbuttoning Dena’s blouse. Dena’s hand was on his crotch and I knew
she was massaging his cock and balls. “I hope he’s hung like a
horse.” I thought.

My own cock was rock hard as I watched the couple before me undress
each other. When the gentleman stood Dena unbuckled his belt. She
unzipped his trousers and tugged them down. As this man stood
before my wife his trousers fell around his ankles as Dena pulled
his jockey shorts down.

I couldn’t see the man’s cock because he was quarter turned away
from me but I could clearly see Dena had his cock in her mouth.
Dena’s hands were slowly stroking this man’s ass and upper legs as
she took him into her mouth. This continued for about a minute when
Dena’s lover turned to sit down on the sofa.

Dena released her mouth hold on his cock and as the man sat down
she got on her knees before him. Clearly she planned to continue
sucking his cock. It was at this time that I saw the man’s cock for
the first time. It was much larger than my seven and one half
inches. I would guess at least 10 or 11 inches in length and very
thick. It was so thick that the head of his cock seemed small.
Almost as if it belonged to a 7 inch cock but was attached to this
massive sausage.

Dena took this stranger’s cock in both hands and began jacking it
as she took as much as she could in her mouth. To me Dena looked
beautiful as she knelt before the man sucking his monster tool. I
was slowly massaging my own cock through my trousers as I hoped
they would continue until he shot his load in Dena’s mouth.

Within a few minutes I had my wish. The man laid his head back and
closed his eyes. I knew he was about to cum and so did Dena. She
was jacking his cock faster now and sucking him as deep as she
could. The man stiffened and Dena slowed her hand and head motion.
I knew he was shooting his load into my wife’s mouth and she
appeared to love it. “Please swallow his cum.” I was thinking as I
shot my own load into my shorts.

Dena did as I had hoped because when the man had finished climaxing
she got up to sit beside him. She said something to him and they
both laughed and took a sip of their drinks. There was no trace of
cum on Dena’s face so I knew she had done as I had hoped and had
swallowed his load. I hoped his cum had been thick and plentiful
but I had no way of knowing.

Dena and her lover sat on the sofa talking, kissing and fondling
each other until I saw the man’s cock begin to come alive again.
Dena bent over a sucked his cock until it was fully erect again
then she stood up. Although her blouse and bra had been removed
earlier she now let her skirt fall to the floor and removed her
bikini panties.

The man pulled my wife to him and began to eat her pussy as she
stood wide legged before him. I sure he couldn’t get to her pussy
very well and he said something to her. Dena laid back on the sofa
and with one foot on the floor and one on the back of the sofa she
offered herself to her lover.

I watched as the man began to eat my wife and slowly jack his own
cock. Since my cock had remained hard the entire time I unzipped my
trousers, now very wet from the load I had shot earlier. Taking my
cock out I began to jack off as I watched the scene before me.

The man continued to eat Dena pussy until I could tell she was
about to cum. He then made his way on top of her and I could
clearly see his cock as it entered Dena’s now very wet pussy. At
first he pushed only the head and perhaps two inches in. Dena’s ass
was moving up to him, urging him deeper into her. The man was
fucking her with only a few inches of his cock when he suddenly
plunged his entire cock into my wife. His balls, again much larger
than mine, slapped against Dena’s ass as he began to fuck her
harder.

Even above the air-conditioning and through closed windows I could
hear Dena. “Oh God! Oh God! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me! Oh God Fuck
me!” I felt my balls tighten and my own cum began to shoot as I
watched the couple before me. It was truly beautiful watching my
wife enjoy being power fucked by this stranger. I wanted them to
continue but the man’s body stiffened and he pushed himself as deep
as he could into Dena. I knew he was depositing another load in
places much deeper that I ever had.

It was clear that Dena was enjoying being fucked by this man
because she was having one orgasism after the other. I saw their
combined juices, thick and white, on the shaft of the man’s cock as
he fucked in-an-out. It was slowly running out of Dena’s pussy and
down her ass. So that’s what those stains were on the sofa. I
continued to jack myself as the lovers continued to fuck each other
on the sofa.

I must have jacked myself as they fucked for five minutes or more
when the man’s body stiffened again. Plunging himself deep into
Dena’s pussy he began to shoot another hot load of his semen. I too
shot another load and gave a silent prayer of thanks for allowing
me to witness my wife being so thoroughly fucked.

I pulled up in front of my mother’s house and beeped the
horn. My daughters, 12 and 10, came running out and I waved at
their Granny as I pulled away.
Melissa, the 12 year old, looked over at me, “Wow, Mom, what
have you been doing? You look a mess”
Krissy concurred from the back seat, “Yeah, your hair looks
terrible.”
I asked them about their day and we went through McDonald’s
Drive-Thru without incident. At home, Frank was just getting out
of his car as we pulled up. He waited and then kissed us all on
the cheeks.
“Hi, Honey. You look like you had a tough day.”
“Yeah, it was long and hard. The girls already told me my
hair was a mess. They just don’t appreciate the effort I went
to, to get it looking this way!”
He tousled it with his hand, “I noticed, but I thought it
looked sexy. How was the traffic on your end?”
I smiled at him, “Well, Dear, the Beltway was a real mess.
I won’t soon forget today’s traffic jam. This one guy was really
zipping in and out, then he got behind me, and he just wouldn’t
get off my ass.”
Frank patted my shoulder, “I know, Julie, there are some
real fucking assholes out there.”
“You can say that again, Honey.”
Maybe the guilt would come later.
Then, again, maybe it won’t!

[From The San Francisco Examiner, June 9]

International pornography magnate and accused racketeer Reuben Sturman
is converting a landmark North Beach strip joint into a big peep-show
arcade, according to city records.

City building inspectors have allowed the Sturman firm to begin tearing
out the club’s interior, but they want assurances that two of the peep-show
booths will be wheelchair-accessible before they will issue a permit for
remodeling….

–

First Woman: “This is very embarrassing, but every time I sneeze, I
have an orgasm.”
Second Woman: “You poor dear! Are you taking anything for that?”
First Woman: “Snuff.”

————

What’s the definition of the perfect woman?
1) She’s three feet tall, has a round hole for a mouth
and her head is flat so you can put cocktails on it.
2) The sports model has pull-back ears and her teeth fold in.
3) The economy model – she fucks all night and at midnight
she turns into a roast beef sandwich and a six pack.

————

Three old ladies were sitting on a park bench when a flasher walked up
to them and displayed his endowments. The first old lady had a stroke,
the second old lady had a stroke, but the third old lady’s arms were too
short to reach.

————

This guy walks into a bar, walks up to the bartender and
says, “I’d like a scotch and soda and I’d like to buy that
douche bag at the end of the bar a drink.” The bartender
says, “Hey, she’s a regular and you can’t be talking about
her that way.” The guy says, “Okay, I’d like to buy that
nice, young lady at the end of the bar a drink.” The
bartender says, “That’s more like it,” and he walks up to
the girl and asks her what she wants to drink. She says,
“Vinegar and water.”

————

A man meets up with an old roomate whom he has not seen for many years.
The roomate has had a sex-change operation. “Was it painful?”, asks the former.
“No, not really” says the second. “How about when they cut off your dick?”
“No that really wasn’t the worst of it.” “Really?” says the first. “How
about when they had to create the new hole? That must have been painful.”
“No the worst part was when they stuck the straw in my ear and sucked out half
my brains.”

————–

Why did God give women nipples?
To make suckers out of men.

Why did the Detroit Lions hire two nuns and a prostiture for the new season?
Because they needed two tight ends and a wide receiver.

Why are clams like women?
When the red tide comes, you don’t eat them.

How does a man know when he’s eaten pussy well?
When he wakes up in the morning and his face looks like a
glazed doughnut.

Did you hear about the new video game for women only, called Dick-Man?
You put a quarter in and get fucked.

I’ve got a joke so funny it’ll make your breast fall off:
Oh…I see you’ve already heard it.

What do you call a virgin on a waterbed?
A cherry float.

What do you do when your Kotex catches fire?
Throw it on the floor and tampon it.

What’s 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1?
Bo Derek getting older.

Did you hear about the new douche powder made of alum, LSD, and Kentucky
Fried Chicken batter?
It’s uptight, outasight, and finger-lickin’ good.

What’s the difference between a light bulb and a pregnant woman?
You can unscrew a light bulb.

What do fat girls and mopeds have in common?
They’re both fun to ride until a friend see you.

Why are women giving up bowling for screwing?
The balls are lighter and you don’t have to change your shoes.

What’s the difference between a job and a wife?
After five years, the job still sucks.

How do you make paper dolls?
Screw an old bag.

What’s the white stuff you find in women’s panties?
Clitty litter.

Bumber sticker: Support E.R.A. – make him sleep on the wet spot.

What do you call a rehabilitation home for ex-prostitutes?
An all-the-way house.

Definition of a wife: “An attachment you screw on the bed to get the
housework done.”

How are an oven and a woman alike?
You have to get them both hot before you can stick the meat in.

Remember what’s worse than getting raped by Jack the Ripper? (Getting
fingered by Captain Hook.) Well, you know what’s worse than that?
Getting eaten out by Jaws.

What’s the purpose of a bellybutton?
To put your gum in on the way down.

Why was the stamp commemorating prostitution so unpopular?
You had to pay an extra ten cents to lick it.

What’s the difference between a hormone and an enzyme?
You can’t hear an enzyme.

How do you make a hormone?
Put sand in the Vaseline.

What’s a cunt that talks back?
An answering cervix.

What do you give an eighty-year-old woman for her birthday?
Mikey … He’ll eat anything.

What do you call a woman who uses too much contraceptive cream?
A spermicidal maniac.

Why do women have legs?
So they don’t leave snail tracks on linoleum floors.

What do you call a hooker with no legs?
A nightcrawler.

What do you call a girl who’s just been run over by a car?
Patty.

Why do female parachutists always wear pantyhose?
So they won’t whistle.

How do you tell when a woman is wearing pantyhose?
If she farts, her ankles will swell.
…End of the part1. To be continued..

The weekend after graduation is a particularly dull time for a bottle
shop. Everyone that wants booze has either left town, is still nursing
the worst hangover of their academic life, or is still plowing through
leftover alcohol. Or has to work. Which I was.

The late afternoon sun pounded through the dirty glass of the front,
what little was not covered with signs loudly proclaiming a message of,
in essence, “Get Drunk! Cheap! Here.” The weather in Cambridge had
been particularly lousy, especially for June, our most promising month
until October. But the thunderstorms and rain showers had given way to
a passably nice day. The weather was guaranteed by the owner of the
shore having scheduled me for an all-day shift.

The job sucked, but the alternative was home to Lancaster, PA with my
parents, a fate I would have gladly licked Mass Ave clean with my
tongue to avoid.

I didn’t notice her at first, as all my attention was taken up by
counting out change for a $100 for a young guy who was buying a
newspaper. He had a smile that I’m certain was intended to be
apologetic, and if I had been in a better mood it might have worked,
but I was inconsolable. A line had formed, and she joined the end of
it, not stopping to pick anything up. With each sale, I noticed a
little more of her.

Bottle of wine, $12.95. Short blonde hair.

Two six-packs of Coke, $4.49. About 5′ 8″, blue halter top. Nice
figure.

Bottle of gin, $6.80. Cute, button nose.

She reached the front of the line, and gave me a smile that broke
through my lousy mood. Blue eyes. A little necklace that looked
vaguely Southwestern, all turquoise and silver.

“I’m looking for Cedar Street? Any idea where that is?”

We’re at the corner of Mass Ave. and Cedar. This was going to be a
short encounter. I told her.

“No, no, not that Cedar! Cedar in Somerville. I love Boston, but I
hate driving in Boston.”

We’re in Boston the way New Jersey is in Manhattan, but I wasn’t going
to start that line of conversation.

“Where are you from?”

“California. How about yourself?”

“Lancaster, Pennsylvania. I’m going to Harvard …” I started in, but
I seemed to have said the magic word.

“Lancaster! I have friends in Lancaster.” Reminded me a bit too much
of the Pennsylvania license plates, but she’s gone on. “They’re
members of my sorority, and I just saw them at our June Weekend
reunion. I’m in town for that …”

As she went on, a one-person conversation, I took in her voice (quite
husky, considering her bubbly demeanor) and glanced (with appropriate
discretion, I hoped) up and down her body. She was, well,
well-stacked. Unfortunately, my discretion was insufficient for the
task, and I looked back up to her face to see her smiling at my
regard. As I blushed, she leaned down over the counter.

“Some people get all the fun jobs,” she said, in a low, conspiratorial
voice.

“Uh, yeah.” Witty reply. Clever. That’s right, I thought, wow her
with your intellect.

“Place seems quiet, today” She said, glancing around, stretching
herself. Her elbows sunk slowly onto the countertop. I looked up from
the view thus created by the lowering of the halter-top fabric to see
her looking at me with a smile that had switched from conspiratorial to
something else.

“Think of anything we could do to make the job more fun?” she said.

“Well, it’s cooler in the back.” Shit, I thought, did I say that?

“We could fix that,” she said, turning around and surveying the back of
the store for the door.

“This way,” I managed to gasp out with lungs that didn’t seem
completely under my command. In one fluid motion, I had closed the
register, grabbed a package of condoms from behind the counter, and
locked the front door. No customers in the parking lot, good, just one
car, must be her’s. It looks like there’s someone in it, but nah,
couldn’t be, anyway, who cares?

I led her into the back room. It’s even worse than the typical back
room of a liquor store, whatever that looks like. There are boxes
piled everywhere, both empty and full, the usual collection of posters
proclaiming that all you have to do is drink some terrible brand of bad
American liquor and amazingly women who would scrape you off their shoe
now will fall into bed with you. Not in so many words, of course, but
the message is clear.

She surveyed the scene, with what I assumed was less than complete
enthusiasm. Well, it is a bottle shop, not the Marriott. But when she
turned around, she still has that infectious lovely smile on her face …

“I can cope with this.” She pulled the tank top over her head,
revealing her lovely breasts still in a white bra. The bra came off a
moment later, and she was in my arms, pulling me down to a kiss. And a
very nice kiss it was, very deep and soft. Even with lots of tongue,
there are kisses that are very sharp and angular-feeling, but this was
a lover’s kiss. I still can’t completely explain the difference, but
there you are.

With a plop, the package of condoms dropped to the floor. She somehow
managed to slither out of her shorts while kissing me, and did a
lovely, slow, descent to her knees, running her hands down my chest.
Kissing me through my jeans, she unbuttons them, and applies her mouth
to my already-hard cock with tremendous skill.

“Now …” Lick. “I don’t …” Slurp. “have …” Gulp. “much time
for this,” she finally managed to get out, between licks with her
tongue along my balls, “so let’s be quick!”

Nothing like a little performance anxiety to make an evening special,
but I wasn’t going to turn this down for anything.

She retrieved the packaged of condoms, and (with cardboard and wrappers
flying everywhere) managed to extract one. As she stood up, naked
except for jewelry and shoes, she rolled one onto me with one hand, the
other steadying herself on my shoulder.

“OK, I’ll just bend over like this,” she said, as businesslike as if
she was staging a play. She turned her back to me, and bent over,
steadying herself on a pile of Guinness boxes. She spread her legs,
and one hand spread her lips apart. Amazingly, she was very wet
already, wet enough to…

“Well? C’mon!” she said, always impatient. OK, OK, I was just
enjoying the view. I stepped forward, rubber-clad penis in hand, and
slid it. There was almost no resistance, I was amazed.

I started slowly, with long strokes, but she was having none of it.
She started setting the rhythm, pushing back, in, out, in out. Her
free hand was playing with her clit, and she was starting a lovely
pattern of moans in time with her thrusts. In, out, in out … she
came once, twice as I finally lost control and pounded into her,
grabbing her hips.

She started screaming, loud enough that I was afraid the next door
dry-cleaners would hear. “Yes, yes, YES!” she yelled out as I came,
much faster than I thought I ever would, shaking as my cum poured out
of me.

I staggered back, a bit unsure of my balance, and came out of her with
a pop. She gave a small whimper of displeasure, but was back into her
shorts and tank top (bra in the pocket of the shorts) before I even had
the condom all the way off.

“That was very nice, thanks. I better go, my boyfriend’s waiting.”

“BOYFRIEND!”

“Yeah, he’s in the car. He’ll wonder what’s taking so long.”

“Boyfriend?” OK, I had already said it, but I still wasn’t quite
getting the answer I was looking for.

“Relax, he’s reading a newspaper, and nothing distracts him from that.
Anyway, gotta go! Thank you kindly,” she said, with just a touch of an
affected southern accent. And with a small peck on the cheek, out she
went through the store, unlocking the front door and tearing out of
it.

I staggered into my clothes, cleaned up the condom package debris in
the storage room, and put one condom-package worth of change in the
register (the owner would notice, he’s that kind of guy).

I watched the car pull away, and head down Mass Ave. Even through the
grimy windows, I can see that it was the guy with the $100 driving.

I still don’t understand some relationships.

Finally, someone said, “Oh, Jane, this is Len Josephs.”

“Len! Wow! I’ve always wanted to meet you!” We shook hands, but wound up
hugging one another. Len and I had exchanged some mail years before, and
admired one another’s work. Instantly, I wanted to take him to bed. It was
quite a shock because I don’t normally feel that strongly about someone
seconds after meeting him. It was literally lust at first touch.

Since we had friends in common, we went to dinner together. Now, I’m not
the sort of woman who picks men up. It simply had never happened before.
I’d had the occasional extra-marital lover, but it had always been with a
friend, not with someone I’d just met. I fought with myself all during
dinner. How obvious could I be with him about the way I felt? Could I
actually say to him, “I’d love to make love with you.”? While Len and I
wound up sitting together at dinner, and while he made me laugh a lot, he
seemed to back off when my knee rested against his. Well, I knew he was
married, so maybe he didn’t fool around. Still, I felt like someone had
shot me full of speed. I shook like crazy, and felt about ready to fly off
the chair, just looking at him.

After dinner, he went back to his room. I went back to my room. I paced
around a lot. He’d given his friends his room number, and I’d memorized it.
I walked to the elevator, went to his floor and stood before his door. I
raised my hand to knock…then turned and returned to my room.

I guessed I wasn’t the sort of woman who can knock on a man’s door, without
a reason other than to ask “Wanna fuck?”.

Suddenly, I realized I had a book he’d expressed some interest in at dinner.
I took the book and practically bolted back to his room. This time, my hand
connected with the door. When he opened the door, he had a genuinely
shocked expression on his face, but I talked over it. “I’m sorry if I
disturbed you, but I thought you’d be interested in seeing this.” I said,
going into his room without further invitation.

“Oh, no problem. I was just resting.” We sat down on the beds and looked
at the book together. Eventually, I sat on the bed beside him. As we
looked at the book, we sat closer and closer together. Finally, he took my
hand and squeezed it hard. “I’m going over to Lori’s party for a while.
Do you want to come back later?”

“Oh, yes! I don’t normally do this sort of thing, but I really want to come
back.”

“I don’t want to stay over there for TOO long.”

“Me neither.” We stood up and kissed. As hot as I felt, he felt hotter.
But it didn’t show on his face the way it had to be showing on mine. I kept
feeling myself turning red in front of him.

“What about precautions….”

“Well, I’m not too concerned. My period ended yesterday…”

“I’d better go get some condoms.”

I felt severely embarrassed, being a college-educated, Planned-Parenthood
trained woman. At least if I was on the verge of behaving irresponsibly, I
had the good luck to find someone who WASN’T. “You’re absolutely right.
Sorry about that.”

“It’s OK,” he kissed me again, his tongue brushing my lips.

I dashed back to my room, slipped into something more comfortable (yet
socially acceptable), and went to Lori’s room. Many old friends were there,
but I couldn’t engage in coherent conversation. My thoughts and eyes kept
drifting to Len, who sat in a corner, talking. Finally, after a day-long
half hour, I went out of the party and down to the bar. I kept calling
Len’s room, to see if he’d gotten the hint and had returned to his room. No
dice. After yet another overly long half-hour, I returned to the party. He
was still there. Whew! I wandered the party a bit, then returned to the
hallway. Len followed after a moment.

“I thought you’d changed your mind.” he said sadly.

“God no. I just can’t sit still. Can we go now?”

“Yes.” We walked to the elevator, relieved that there was no one in it. I
took his hand, but we dropped hands as soon as the door opened on his floor.
No one was in the hall either, so we walked to his room together.

We were both nervous. I ran to the bathroom. He turned on the TV. “Can we
turn it off?” I asked, turning on the light across the room.

“I don’t mind.” I turned the set off and joined him on the bed. We kicked
off our shoes and laid back, just holding hands and watching each other at
first. His hands were large and bony and very strong. I suppose I have
something of a hand fetish, because just stroking his hands really turned me
on.

As we kissed, his tongue filled my mouth, and I sucked on his tongue until
my lips were sore. He played with the straps of my dress, reaching his
hand into the front to play with my bra. He took off the dress, but had a
little problem with the bra—it was one of those strapless affairs with
innumerable hooks. He took the bra off and suckled hard on my breasts. I
lay back on the bed, caressing his neck and beginning to moan in pleasure.

I finally sat up enough to help him off with his clothes. I had as much
trouble with his sansa-belt slacks as he’d had with my bra earlier. But he
helped out, and I found him hard and hot. He lay on top of me, his cock
rubbing against my underpants. My clit began trembling against his heat.
He reached inside, stroking my clitoris. “You’re so wet,” he murmurred.

“I’m not usually THIS bad…” I said, running my hands up and down his back.
My underpants were literally dripping from six hours of thinking about him and
a half hour of foreplay. Already, waves of pleasure were streaming through
my body. I remembered some of the net jokes about “If this is just
foreplay, tonight is going to kill me.” I wondered what my husband would
think if I died in the arms of another man…

I leaned forward and tentatively took his penis in my mouth. He was longer,
but narrower than what I was used to. He moaned, working my underpants off.
I sucked on him harder, feeling his cock get even hotter.

He pushed me off, laying me back and spreading my legs. “Aren’t you going
to go down on me?” I asked watching him grab for his condoms.

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted that.”

“Not want it??! Please, do!”

He fell between my legs, his pointed tongue pushing hard against my clit.
I became even wetter, some from his tongue, but mostly from my incredibe
rate of arousal. His tongue was very forceful, feeling more like a slick
finger than a tongue. He licked me out, his tongue darting in and out of
my vagina.

Finally he rose, and put the condom on effortlessly. He knelt and slid
very slowly into me, like someone using an iron poker to make a fire flare.
I pulled him in tight, feeling about ready to explode. Very gradually, we
moved together. I pulled my legs up to let him in ever further. We
shifted around quite a bit, and I took some time on top, pressing my hips
into his. An orgasm hit me so hard that my knees went weak, and I fell on
my arms to avoid hitting him.

We flipped over again, and he began pumping into me vigorously. He pulled
up my leg and wrapped it wround his shoulder. His face, usually so bland,
positively glowed as I came again. I couldn’t stop moaning. He finally
came, rolling aside and stroking my belly. The whole lower half of my
body spasmed, and I couldn’t speak for a moment.

“Same time, next year?” he asked.

“Oh!” We held onto one another, giggling. “It’s funny…that’s the
kind of lover I always wanted.”

I was amazed by how quickly he was ready to come again. I was certainly
more than ready myself! As we made love again, every nerve in my body
trembled. My body throbbed in utter pleasure. The experience reminded me
of a very long weekend my then-boyfriend (now husband) shared long ago.

We attempted to sleep together. He was far more successful than I. I found
it impossible to sleep when I was tingling so much. I finally drifted off.
When I woke up, I saw his eyes looking down on me. “Good morning,” he said,
his soft voice arousing me as much as his touch had the night before.

“Hi.” I reached up and started playing with his hair.

“How are you?” He kissed me.

“I’m tired…but terrific otherwise.” I kissed him back hard, noticing that
his penis was standing at attention under his pajamas. “Do you want to…?”

“Hmmm…” He took off his pajamas. I took off my slip, he put on a condom
and was inside me instantly. My orgasm built quickly, and I kept trying to
muffle myself, worrying that I might wake up the folks in the next room. I
sucked on his fingers, trying to quiet myself.

When we were done, I clung to him. The notion of leaving him tore at me.
But, I knew we both had roommates to consider for the duration of the
conference, and various responsibilities. I kept telling him how wonderful
he’d been, and he kept telling me how exhausted he felt. Finally, I knew I
had to leave, so I kissed him goodbye and went to my room for a much-needed
shower and a change of clothes.

I ran into him often over the next week. I particularly remember joking
with him in the bar the next night, with our respective roommates almost
within earshot. That night, after being awake for nearly two days, I laid
down on my bed as my roommate brushed her teeth in the bathroom. Just
lying down made my whole body quake, as if he were laying beside me and
taking me from behind. It was as if I was in bed with a demon. I don’t
think my roommate heard my sudden, load moan. I bit my lips and shifted my
position. It was so strange to feel myself coming without being touched,
but them, the previous 24 hours had been pretty strange.

Len and I never could work out a reunion that week. In some ways, it
didn’t matter. The night with him sent my body into what felt like a
two-month orgasm. I could feel his cock slide into me, or his tongue move
against my clit. I spent much of that week blushing. For two months, I
couldn’t make love with my husband without feeling Len. That was very
frustrating, because Len and I could never be any more than long distance
lovers. But after about two months, I approached love-making with my
husband with renewed zeal, and started appreciating him again for the fine
lover that he is.

And Len? He turned out to be a terrific one-night stand.

A Users Manual From The
Computer Relations Institute

The following manual is provided as an aid to those open
minded adults wishing to achieve a more fulfilling and
meaningful relationship with their UNIX computer.
WARNING!!: Do not attempt the more difficult positions
immediately! Start with the simple relationships and work
your way up, or damage to the operator and/or terminal may
result!

LOGON

As in all relationships, you must start by approaching the
terminal and making some small talk. In computer
terminology, this is referred to as “logging on”. It is,
however, just a highly evolved form of foreplay (much like
the singles bar scene). If the computer is receptive to
your advancement (hey what is your sign? #grep
/etc/passwd), then it will respond by asking for a
password. This is the computer’s way of weeding out the
nerds before verifiably engaging in any relationship. It
also sets the term for the give-and-take interrelationship
to follow. If this condition of foreplay is successful, the
user is allowed to “access the computer”. Once this is
past, the user and the computer are ready to network in
some serious entanglements.

CHECK-IN WITH DOT

The computer has a vast and ponderous knowledge that may be
accessed by the temporal user (it’s “been around”). To
decide just what form of relationship will develop, the
computer kindly produces a $ prompt, which evokes the
terminal user to fork up an appropriate response and press
the ENTER key (more about entering later!). How much the $
expects is dependant upon Dot Profile. Everyone knows Dot
don’t they? Dot’s gotta hold on you where you live! Without
Dot’s help you could be awking off in the corner! Dot’s got
your mail! Dot’s got your history for the last several
transgressions, so you’d better be sure Dot is taken care
of properly at the $ prompt. No short changing here! If you
do short the Dot, you’ll be seeing it on the front page of
your news_rc

PROGRAM ACCESS

Ah! The fun part! Most programs require a lot of entering.
Care has to be taken here not to enter the wrong thing in
the wrong place! NOTE: You may find your self entering
repeatedly to achieve any degree of success. You may enter
as hard (often stated “strike any key”) and as fast as you
like, but like any sensitive partner, please be aware of
the computer’s feelings. Automation and modern technology
have produced the most advanced of all partners our multi-
user, multi-tasking environment. (Wouldn’t it be nice if you
could multi-user without fear of catching something,
including bullets.)

PROFICIENCY

The system, if properly approached, will respond almost
instantly and openly to user advances. (Dinner, dancing and
a show aren’t even needed.) As you improve you may even be
able to experience multiple relationships per day. Just
work your way up slowly. (Be careful, you are beginning to
sweat on the keys!)

EXITING

After accessing your favorite program and dwelling on all
the earthly delights available from the depths of the
system, it will soon become time for the climactic end of
the session. This step has been automated to allow the
users to take full advantage of their passions. The system
will be ready to get off any time the user so desires. No
more trying to time things just right! The user types EXIT
and enters for the final time. The computer responds
instantly, and with much relief and gratification, the user
is thrust out, finished and spent from passionate endeavors
in the exiting world of computer relationships. The only
thing that seems a bit unfair is that the computer
immediately begins to invite another LOGON!!

CONSEQUENCES

As in any highly developed personal relationship, certain
responsibilities and consequences exist. Privacy,
especially in multi-user scenarios is non-existent! There
are more ways to see what the user is doing and has done
than you would expect. PID (not pelvic inflammatory
disease) can generate child processes which will then spawn
PPIDs and so on. The awesomeness of the birthing of child
processes can occasionally be interrupted. The cause of
these birth defects is sometimes predictable, and sometimes
cannot be explained, and you wind up with a core dump right
in the middle of your directory! HONESTLY! There are proper
places for dumping. Thankfully, cores don’t smell.

Interruptus and aborting of processes are frowned upon by
the local right-to-life movement. However, the system
doesn’t seem to be at all distressed by multiple interrupts
and aborts. Sometimes its helpful in keeping the process
population from getting out of hand and into the system.

MORE ON MULTI-USER

The computer is the most versatile of all partners. For
those operators who have advanced beyond the one-on-one
scene, the computer is open to many variations. It is
capable of having relationships with many different users
at the same time. (This would be an unpopular subject in
news.soc.singles) It won’t even call you by the wrong name!
Caution for humans needs to be exercised. Multiple
relationships are very difficult for users, and
extraordinarily simple for the computer. Also, the
tirelessness of the computer can often exhaust the most
lascivious user. Hours on hours, days on days, until the
PIDs number 10^6 the computer will keep asking for LOGINS!

PROGRAMMERS

A very elite group of computer relaters exists, known as
“programmers”. This group can delve as deeply into the
mysteries of computer relations as is technically possible
today. It is this group, in fact, that is able to maintain
the computer at the fevered pitch. Not much is known about
the practices of this elite group, but studies are going on
at this time to determine how their complex groupings are
tied into the inner workings of the mighty computers. It
should be noted that relationships between users and
programmers should be approached with precaution. The depth
of knowledge of the programmer may well burn out the more
simple minded users if the computer is not allowed to act
as counselor.
In closing, the user is encouraged to explore the satisfying
world of the computer. Thrust in headlong to the depth of
your ability. Seek the serene but passionate heights of the
most intense programs. You will come away satisfied and
content in the knowledge of a relationship well founded.

DEFINITIONS

GOING DOWN – Occasionally, the entire computer will turn
“frigid” in mid-course and refuse to do anything. This can
be very frustrating to the operators. It is truly traumatic
to the users that are about to exit in the relationship.
The reason for this action is not entirely known. Indeed,
it appears that the result of going down has entirely the
opposite effect than the action practiced by humans on each
other that bears the same name. However the computer can be
made to recover from this withdrawal by very special
foreplay performed by system administrators. (Special users
and programmers). Going down has one redeeming quality. It
is often the cause of the PID numbers to fall nearly to the
extinction level. PIDs and PPIDs are annihilated by the
millions. This is the ultimate in child process evacuation.

COLD START – This is a term for the intricate foreplay practiced
by programmers on a computer that has “gone down”.
It appears that this is the only form of foreplay
that the system will respond to in order to arouse
a withdrawn system to engage in relationships with
the more common users.

WARM START – This form of foreplay between system
administrators and the computer occurs when the computer
has “gone down” from the secret actions of the system
administrators themselves. No one knows why this
ritualistic form of system deprivation is periodically
practiced by this elite group. Some theories suggest it is
a method whereby the programmers drive their satisfaction
from the frustrated energies of the other users.

BACKUP – A back-up is performed by the programmers at
regular intervals. It may be some form of rear-entry or
“back-door” access to the systems most private parts. The
reason for this is also not known., but at times when the
system “goes down”, it would not be possible to bring it
around again had some programmer not performed a “back-up”
recently.

RUNNING- This is a devious practice performed by the
a programming group or system administrators that is thought
TAPE to be a form of electronic bondage. The system is thought
to derive much pleasure from this. We know that it has to
do with the memories of the system, and is therefore thought
to be very important. This act is never forgotten by the
computer unless it is “erased”, which may be some form of
pleasure-trance induced by the programmers.

WARM DUMP – Not much is known about this. Theories presented
by researchers on system relations are so strange and
repulsive that this is most often handled by government
agencies. The droppings for some, called “cores” are
immediate calls to investigation.(Preverts) (Is that the
opposite of Postverts?)
MODEMS – A piece of equipment that can allow for telefornication
by both authorized and unauthorized users if
the system is not properly prepared.

collaborative effort by: Jay Lewis
Pete Rourke

OFFICIAL CODE SHEET

It has been brought to the attention of the Management there is
extensive use of foul and/or abusive language in the exchange of normal
verbal communication during the course of routine activities pertaining
to the completion of our day-to-day routine. In order to alleviate this
horrendous situation and, at the same time, not impinge on the
individual freedom and originality of our workers, the following numbers
shall be henceforth uttered in lieu of the catchy phrases listed beside
each number.

101 – You got to be shitting me
102 – Get off my fucking back
103 – Beats the shit outa me
104 – What the fuck?
105 – It’s so fucking bad, I can’t believe it
106 – I hate this fucking place
107 – This place sucks
108 – Fuck you very much
109 – Lovely, just fucking lovely
110 – Beautiful, just fucking beautiful
111 – Fuck, shit, piss
112 – I just got fucked
113 – Big fucking deal
114 – Hang it in your fucking ear
115 – Get bent
116 – Ram it, cram it, and rotate it rapidly to the right
117 – Fan-fucking-tastic/Far-fucking-out
118 – Fuck it, just fuck it
119 – Hot shit
120 – Bitching
121 – Tell someone who gives a shit
122 – Don’t get fucking wise
123 – I don’t give a fuck
124 – I didn’t design the fucking thing, I just installed the
Mother Fucker
125 – Kiss my ass
126 – Your ass
127 – It won’t fucking work
128 – Fuck off
129 – Go pound sand in your ass
130 – Who called this fucking meeting, anyway?
131 – You are fucked up beyond all repair
132 – Where the fuck is my drink?
133 – Fuck you
134 – Shove this fucking place up your ass
135 – Oh shit
136 – Go fuck yourself
137 – Up yours
138 – Shove it, you son-of-a-bitch
139 – Answer your fucking phone
140 – Answer your own fucking phone
141 – Half-assed, two-bit, mother-fucking son-of-a-bitch
142 – Fuckin’ A
143 – What a chickenshit outfit
144 – Cram it up your ass
145 – Eat me
146 – That’s un-fucking believable
147 – Your ass sucks canal water
148 – Pardon me – you obviously mistook me for someone who gives
a shit
149 – You’re stroking my bird (var. choking my chicken, waxing
my carrot)
150 – Blow it out your ass

Acronyms:

FUPITA – FUcking Pain In The Ass

SNAFU – Situation Normal All Fucked Up

FUBAR – Fucked Up Beyond All Repair

BOHICA – Bend Over – Here It Comes Again

–

Reasons why
Beer is better than women

A frigid beer is a good beer.
After a beer, the bottle is still worth a nickle.
All you have to do to get head is undo the top and turn it upside down.
Beer always goes down. Easy.
Beer can is worth something after you’ve had it.
Beer doesn’t bother about foreplay.
Beer doesn’t care about your size.
Beer doesn’t care what position your in.
Beer doesn’t care when you come.
Beer doesn’t cry if you don’t talk to it for a week.
Beer doesn’t demand equality.
Beer doesn’t get jealous when you grab another beer.
Beer is always ready.
Beer is always wet.
Beer is never late.
Beer labels peel off without a fight.
Beer never has a headache.
Beer never talks back.
Beer stains wash out.
Beer will never have a another beer.
Beer will never leave you for a cucumber.
Beer won’t get pregnant.
Beer won’t get upset when you come home with beer on your breath.
Beer won’t mind if you fart after you’ve had it.
Beers don’t get PMS.
Beers don’t get fat.
Beers don’t get headaches.
Beers don’t have cellulite.
Beers don’t have periods.
Beers don’t have teeth.
Beers don’t leave wet patches in the bed.
Beers don’t mind if you don’t stay up all night.
Beers don’t nag.
Beers don’t want equal rights.
Beers don,t have mother-in-laws.
Beers improve with age.
Beers never leave pubes in your throat.
Hangovers go away.
Having a Beer won’t give you a sore back.
If you change beers, you dont have to pay alimony.
If you go to a bar you’ll definately be able to get a Beer.
If you pour a beer right, you’ll get good head.
When a beer goes flat, you toss it.
When you go to a bar, you know you can always pick up a beer.
When you open a beer you know your the first and only one to have it.
You can carry half-dozen Beers in one hand with little fuss.
You can enjoy a beer all month long.
You can have a Beer cold.
You can have a Beer in public.
You can have as many Beers as you want and they won’t get jealous.
You can have more than one beer a night and not feel guity about it.
You can piss and have a Beer at the same time.
You can share a beer with a friend and it doesn’t care.
You can’t catch syphillis from a Beer.
You don’t have to chat a Beer up before you have it.
You don’t have to wash a Beer before it tastes good.
You don’t have to wine and dine a beer.
You don’t need to dress up to pick up some beers.
You never find a med in your beer.
You never have to wait for a Beers nails to dry.
Your beer will always wait patiently for you, in the car, while you play a sport.

–

It was hot and steamy as we arrived at the airport in Bris-
bane for the long journey home to Boston. This was the end of a
month-long campervan vacation in Australia, and I, for one, was
overjoyed to be heading back to some normalcy. For an entire
month my wife Anne (I call her “the queen”) had avoided sex in
the campervan, or anywhere else for that matter, since “the
children are nearby.” – The irony of her way of thinking will be
evident shortly.
Actually, she is not very interested in sex anytime, since
she was taught by her mother that sex was “dirty.” The only time
she ever saw her parents making love, they were fully clothed
(hike up the skirt, dear – I’ll just quickly unzip.) Sometimes I
wonder how we ever ended up with three children; one is grown and
on her own, the two boys (Ralph, 17 and Trevor, 14) were with us
on holiday. Because I travel regularly, I have opportunity for
other sexual outlets during the year, but four plus weeks within
close quarters with a demanding uptight woman does not give you
much opportunity to develop alternatives.
I had some first class upgrade coupons, but at check-in time
was told there was only one seat available. Anne immediately
volunteered because of her “potential for a bad back,” and was
seated in 3A. The boys and I were given 21K/L and 22L. This was
aisle and window seating in the 2-5-2 configuration, and the last
two rows in the second section. I took the single seat, and let
Ralph and Trevor sit together for the first ten-hour segment of
the flight.
An attractive woman dressed in a loose sweater and very tight
blue jeans took the seat next to me. I could see that Ralph was
uncomfortable and maybe even a little jealous, since he kept
turning around to talk to me, but she was too old (29) to be
interested in him. She introduced herself as Christine, “You can
call me Chrissy.” She was about five foot eight, light brown
(almost blond) long hair, a nice ass – firm and high, breasts
with an impact even through her shapeless sweater, and obviously
in good physical condition.
Chrissy was headed for Miami to pick up her belongings from a
recent divorce; she and her husband had been working together on
private yachts for eight years, and he had developed a cocaine
habit. When he would not seek help to end his drug addiction,
and more immediately after a close call with customs in Australia
last year, she decided then and there to split from him, filed
for divorce, stayed in Brisbane, and had just been notified the
divorce was final. In the meantime, she had met another guy she
wanted to stay with, and was going to Miami to settle up the
property and return to her new lover. This I discovered during
dinner conversation and over a few shared glasses of wine.
Looking into my eyes, she confided she was “now free and ready
for some excitement.”
The movie started, the flight attendants went around the
cabin to lower all the shades, and Chrissy said, “I’d rather
talk, if it’s OK with you; this movie is terrible.” I had also
seen the movie and agreed. We spent the next two hours getting
to know each other better. Chrissy at one point said, “You have
terrific eyes, I get really turned on by eyes.” We talked about
the kids, and when she asked if I was married and learned about
Anne in the front cabin, she thought it displayed selfish behav-
ior and then never mentioned my marital status again.
By now, the boys had fallen asleep, and just before the end
of the movie, Chrissy excused herself for a few minutes, reached
into the overhead bin for her carry-on (stretched long enough to
get my mind focused on her hips and legs in those wonderful tight
jeans,) and headed to the lavatory in the back. When she re-
turned, she was wearing loose-fitting sweatpants, and when she
asked if I minded if she lifted the arm dividing the seats, I
replied “Of course not!” By now I had an idea of what she had in
mind, because she had confided during the movie that one of her
greatest turn-ons was the risk of discovery while having sex.
“My husband was not a great lover, but in the close confines of
the boat it was always exciting to fuck without anyone nearby
knowing about it; I had more orgasms from fucking near other
people than from the sex act itself.” As she shared this with
me, she was already visibly breathing more quickly.
Chrissy and I arranged the blankets over both of us, now no
longer separated, and curled up like spoons in the otherwise
crowded seats. I started to give her a back rub, slowly working
over her muscles by now cramped from the first five hours of the
flight. She purred quietly, and after a while squirmed her
shapely ass on the seat, pushing it back into my
growing erection. With both hands I reached around under her
loose sweater, and fondled her globes, her nipples growing firmer
under my gentle stroking.
Chrissy reached back and with one hand released my belt, then
unbuckled and unbuttoned my pants. I whispered in her ear, “How
do you do that? I can’t even do that with one hand, and they’re
my pants.”
She laughed, and said, “Years of practice; don’t worry, it
gets better.” My hard-on sprang out of my tight bikini briefs as
she pulled the waistband forward, and she whispered, “I’m glad
you’re not wearing boxer shorts, I can’t stand them.”
Chrissy began to stroke my cock, now slightly oozing with its
own lubrication. She used the pre-come to help rotate her fin-
gers gently around the head, stroking it with ever firmer pres-
sure. I withdrew my hands from under her sweater to push my
pants down further, allowing me to slip the briefs down below my
swollen balls, which she now explored with her questing hand.
Lubricating her fingers even more with her saliva, she alternate-
ly rubbed my balls and massaged the head of my dick.
My hands were now free, and I hungrily reached forward for
her erect nipples, shortly afterward sliding my right hand down
her belly and slipping it under the waistband of her sweatpants.
She was wearing no panties underneath, and the inside of the
cotton sweats was already wet with her juices. As I stroked her
mound, her lubrication welcomed my fingers into her warm wet
cunt. Rubbing the juices on my fingers, I began to circle her
clitoris and then used my fingers to stroke in and out of her
pussy while my thumb pushed against her swollen clit. She was
breathing harder now, and could not stop moving her ass around on
the seat, first bucking her soaking cunt against my right hand,
then pushing her ass back against my cock through the sweatpants.
Just then, the stewardess came down the aisle, paused notice-
ably as she came up to our row, glared at me (me? why me? there
are two of us here, you know!), almost said something, then
apparently decided that since we were bothering nobody else, she
would keep moving. Thank God! While we were both close to fully
clothed at that time, there was little chance she could do any-
thing legally disastrous, but who needs the embarrassment, or the
hassle from the kids for that matter.
As the stewardess left, Chrissy whispered. “She knows exact-
ly what we are doing, and she’s jealous! Now I want to have your
prick inside me. I’ll keep quiet, but I need you to fuck me
now.” With this, she lifted her ass off the seat and slid her
sweats down below her knees, then separated her legs slightly and
moved back so I could slide into her dripping pussy from behind.
I moved slowly in and out as she purred and pushed back onto my
cock quietly so we would not wake our neighbors.
At the same time, I reached back around to stroke her clito-
ris easily but steadily. The appearance of the stewardess had
startled me, and most of the urgency for release that had built
up from her stroking my hard-on had subsided, so it was a nice,
long, easy fuck, punctuated by her spasming in orgasm three times
before my cock pressure built up to the point of no return. I
came with the most excruciating pleasure I had felt in my life
(actually for the last month, but you know how easy it is to lose
perspective at the moment.) I felt like I unleashed at least a
pint of come into her already dripping cunt. I sighed, and
whispered’ “Chrissy, it must have been heaven that sent you to
this seat. You don’t know how much I needed that.”
She then turned around in the seat to sit normally, and
kissed me for the first time. “I needed it just as much as you
did; you’re a terrific fuck, but on top of that it’s the danger
that makes me come so much. Thanks for being here, I dreamed
that I’d be fucked silly on this trip. As we kissed, I told her
about my favorite turn-on. “What I like best is eating pussy,
but there is no room here for that. Would you like to go to the
back of the plane with me?”
“What do you mean? In the lavatory?” she asked.
“Yes. If we are reasonably cautious we can get in there
without causing an uproar,” I replied.
“I’ve never done that before,” Chrissy explained.
“There’s a first time for everything,” I said, and moved to
pull up my pants and buckle my belt. She thought about it for a
minute, and then said, “why not, let’s try it!” She drew up the
sweatpants and tied the drawstring (I hadn’t noticed there was
one before – must not have been tied.) Then she got up and
headed for the back of the plane, with me following directly
behind.
She entered the first lavatory, which was vacant (good thing
the flight was long, and everybody was still asleep.) I slipped
right in behind her before the flight attendants noticed we were
even there. As I closed the door, she turned and we started to
kiss passionately. She broke for a quick query, “how do you do
anything in this little space?” As I untied the drawstring on
her sweatpants, I said, “Just lift up and sit on the sink, and
let me taste your cunt.”
Chrissy lifted, spread her legs, and I could see her cunt
lips were still swollen from her last orgasm. I gently tongued
her outer lips, occasionally swiveling my head to nip the insides
of her thighs, but always returning to circle her clit, and as it
swelled up, suck on it gently. There was no end to the wetness;
her own lubrication, supplemented by the enormous load of come I
had left in her pussy, dripped down both sides of my chin onto
the stainless steel sink surface and trailed down her thighs.
After tonguing her into a few more orgasms, I realized how
hard I was getting again, and finally stood up, sliding her ass
slightly off the surface, and drove my cock into her again while
we exchanged extremely wet but tasty kisses, flavored by both of
our juices. Such a short time after the last fuck, and she was
sooo wet; this time it lasted at least twenty minutes, both of us
sighing and savoring the overwhelming sensations coursing through
our bodies. Finally, after a slow buildup that I never wanted to
end, I came again, not as much this time, but she sensed it and
started bucking hard just at the same moment. The pleasure was
so intense it was almost painful.
The light came on to return to the cabin, and after a few
minutes we were able to adjust ourselves to some degree of
presentability to return to our seats. Just as we opened the
door, the same stewardess was looking right into my eyes. She
said angrily, “Please return to your seats and stay there. We
have some turbulence and the captain has turned on the seat
belt sign.” I couldn’t help but think that maybe we were the
cause of the turbulence, but then that’s just my imagination
running away with me again.
As we settled in to the seats, Chrissy pushed the seat divid-
er down, saying, “I think everyone is waking up, let’s not embar-
rass your boys.” The breakfast service was beginning, the cabin
lights were turned on, and we were again two strangers who hap-
pened to be sitting next to each other on the plane. The secret
of our mile-high lovemaking was secure.
We exchanged addresses, but with her in Brisbane and me in
Boston it’s not likely we’ll ever meet again. Both of us prom-
ised to use caution in contacting each other should the opportu-
nity arise, so our current SO would not be disturbed, but also
promised to get together if possible again.
I said goodbye to Chrissy at the seat, and went forward with
the unsuspecting boys to deplane.
As we got to the end of the ramp in the terminal, I asked
Anne, “How was your flight?”
“Great,” she replied, “one of the most relaxing ever.”
“Me too!”

Heard from a friend who heard it in Arkansas.

This man and this woman are riding next to each other in first class. The man s
neezes, pulls out his wang and wipes the tip off. The woman can’t believe what
she just saw and decides she is hallucinating. A few minutes pass. The man snee
zes again. He pulls out his wang and wipes the tip off. The woman is about to g
o nuts. She can’t believe that such a rude person exists. A few minutes pass. T
he man sneezes yet again. He takes his wang out and wipes the tip off. The woma
n has finally had enough. She turns to the man and says, “Three times you’ve sn
eezed, and three times you’ve removed your penis from your pants to wipe it off
! What the hell kind of degenarate are you?” The man replies, “I am sorry to ha
ve disturbed you, ma’am. I have a very rare condition such that when I sneeze,
I have an orgasam.” The woman then says, “Oh, how strange. What are you taking
for it?” The man looks at her and says, “Pepper.”

–

There’s nothing wrong about a boss and a future employee having an additional round of interviewing in a less formal environment, is there? It’s so nice to sit next to each other on the couch and discuss career prospects! These two had a very hot discussion, we gotta tell you! No wonder this sexy mature got the position she wanted!

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