c h a p t e r 1 5
The Electric Adventures of
A Novel of Erotic Satire
Chapter 15
c:/notes/miscnotes/jack235
Jack, the tall study partner who takes Beth to her classes on Mondays and Wednesdays, has what might be the heaviest eyebrows I’ve ever seen on a human. My own eyebrows are a pale pretender to his. I know, from his voice and his manner – at least what little I glimpse of his manner as we pass one another on the narrow cat-piss-smelling stairs outside my apartment two mornings a week when he comes to pick up Beth – that he’s notably masculine. I don’t know if medical science recognizes any correlation there, between heavy eyebrows and masculinity, but it seems to me there is one. I’ve wondered sometimes if women can look at men and, from their eyebrows, determine anything about their Inner Lives. Certainly, women’s eyebrows have been, to me, an indicator of unseen things.
Anyway, Jack is what I imagine Mikey to look like. This is an utterly random conclusion on my part, not based on any kind of rational deduction. I’ve never seen Mikey, I have no information about his eyebrows or any other part of him. I’ve never even heard his voice. But I know, from those many long written orgies in which we two were often the only two males (or at least the only two who were owning up to their maleness) that he’s notably masculine at his core. Whether that masculinity translates into heavy eyebrows, I don’t know. But I have to give him some kind of face in order to view him as real. So Jack’s face is the one he gets.
It’s that way with all of them; I assign them faces, bodies, voices. All I actually have of them are (badly) typed words – and, as Steinbeck once noted, the Word has only a tenuous relationship with the Thing. So I fill in the blanks, using what little information they’ve offered about themselves. Mikey becomes Jack. Amy becomes the short, busty, smiley teaching assistant I had in one of my college classes. (Political Science, I think.) Dex becomes the tall, gray-streaked, sultry-voiced woman who lived down the street when I was growing up. Sindi – creator and victim of the disastrous Post-Mortem Program – becomes the lonely-looking petite redhead I sometimes see working at the Seven-Eleven down the street where I buy milk and bread. (Actually, given that Sindi is currently in hiding from her husband, the IRS and others, it’s at least theoretically possible that that’s really her.)
I never did have a clear picture in my head of JaneyX, before I knew she was Jenny Goode, skinny blonde blackmailer. Janey (Jenny) lied to us so many times about who she was – tall dancer, short hooker, prim librarian, curvy cabbie – that I simply couldn’t get a fix on her.
c:/program/writing/janeyxstuff9546
It irks me that Janey (Jenny) is one of the few in our gang who I’ve ever seen, and the only one at all who I’ve seen in the recent past. With Mindy, all I have is a toothy teenage smile in a yellowing high school yearbook; with Guinevere, some years-old emailed pixels presenting her in various states of undress. Mindy and Gwen, with Beth, form the trinity of Femaleness at the center of my Inner Life, but I couldn’t tell you exactly what either of them looks like today.
But Janey’s conniving face, I know well. As does Mikey.
If you’ve read The Electric Adventures of Alvin (don’t deny it), you know of Mikey’s catastrophic encounter with Janey, out in the ``real’’ world. It was the reason we expelled her from The Room, but by then, of course, it was too late for Mikey’s marriage. The sobering lesson of Mikey’s downfall is what I’m pondering right now, as I’m looking over at the paperback that Beth bought yesterday at the mall.
c:/misc/websites/riverwalk-link
Welcome To The World Famous River Walk!
Come on down and see for yourself why the River Walk in
c:/mydocs/writing/miscwriting/chatstories/
The catastrophe began, as they so often seem to, with an innocuous notion: ``actually, u SHOULD write a book,’’ Mindy had suggested. That, as far as I can remember, was the moment of conception for the creature who would eventually become
I wasn’t specifically envisioning the novel that was eventually born. I’m not sure what I was envisioning, other than something based on my Inner Life and those of my online friends. Something to play with. It hadn’t yet occurred to me that our nightly typed conversations themselves could form the core of the narrative – an unlikely thought, imagining you could squeeze a novel out of what was the digital equivalent of flirtation in a singles bar – so I aimed for something more concrete.
``i’m collectign stories,’’ I told them all, one night, in The Room. ``i want yor best ones, the hottest, most electric things youv’ done.’’
That was it. Just that. That doesn’t look like a request that could ruin someone’s life, does it?
c:/mydocs/writing/miscwriting/chatstories/amy
To: Alvn
From: Amy69
Okay, I don’t know if this qualifies as `electric,‘ but I’ll tell you anyway. I modeled nude for an art class in college. I don’t know if you’ll want to use it in your book. You might think it’s kind of boring. I mean, I didn’t even have sex with anyone! But it still turns me on when I think of it, and that was 16 yrs ago.
I was 20, a sophomore, U of Washington. I think I’ve told you I’m 5-6, 145 pounds, brown hair, big boobs (d-cup), all was the same in college, except boobs were a little smaller, and (sigh) I was about 25 pounds lighter. Had a pretty nice tummy, too (pre-childbirth days). I shave my ``mary’’ these days because thats what my husband likes, sorry Alv I know you hate that, but you’ll be glad to know that in college, I hadn’t started trimming the pubes yet. I had a bush like you wouldn’t believe when I modeled for the class.
Like I said I was a sophomore, and I was a virgin. Not making that up. I’d gone almost all the way, but never all the way. My first time was a year later (I made up for it plenty after that, but those are other stories). I didn’t even stroke much up to that point, maybe twice a month if that. I just didn’t think to do it.
Anyway – I’m in this art class, mostly sophomores and juniors, about half men, and a woman instructor, and we’re studying the human form (in books at that point). And I’m getting to know these two guys at my table (we sat at long tables with built-in easels, three to a table). They’re named Mike and Mark, both sophomores, friends with each other from somewhere. Both cute (Mike was a skinny redhead with this great sense of humor, Mark was kind of short and squat, but handsome in this sort of rugged way). Well you know me – I spent most of the semester flirting with these guys. Called them my ``M&Ms’’. Basically we were all pals (and not very good artists) but I also was pretty attracted to both of them, especially Mike. I mentioned that I only stroked once or twice a month back then? Well, after this class started, it was more like once a week, usually on the nights after class. I thought about Mike a lot, and I had this one where I thought about BOTH of them (but that was just thinking and you wanted real stories here, right?)
Okay. So about halfway through the semester, the instructor says we’re going to have two nude models, first a man, then a woman. And of course everyone’s kind of giggly about it, and she lectures us about how we shouldn’t be like that, because this is art. The next week, the man comes in, wearing a robe, then drops it when the instructor tells him to, and sits there naked for two hours while we all draw him. He’s in his late-20s, okay looking but nothing spectacular. And some of the guys in class are being real assholes, snickering, making jokes about how they need sharper pencils if they’re going to draw THAT, basically being jerks. It was pretty obvious they were just really uncomfortable about looking at a naked man, and they were so immature about it! (remember how immature college boys are?) But Mike and Mark were cool about it, just drew him and we commented on each other’s drawings, and Mark even said that he thought the guy had nice muscle tone, which I thought was really cool of him.
So after class, the guy puts on his robe and goes into the other room and gets dressed, while the instructor is telling us that the next class is going to be the woman model. Of course, everyone’s trying to stay cool about it and act like its no big deal, but I could tell the guys in the room were like, ``yes! pussy!’’ Personally, I was kind of looking forward to it just to see how she acted. I couldn’t imagine someone like me taking off all her clothes in front of the class like that.
So after class me and Mark and Mike go to the bar across the street and have a beer and we get on the subject of the woman model, and Mike asks me, kind of casually, if I could imagine doing that. Well, I’d had two beers, and I had kind of been thinking the same thing, and so I said, ``yeah, I could.’’ I was totally lying, I didn’t really think I could, and they knew it, they started laughing at me and razzing me about it. Then they walked me back to my dorm, and before they dropped me off, Mike gave me a little hug and said, ``I for one would love to take your class, Amy,’’ and we all laughed about that.
Next week, we’re in art class again, and the woman model shows up late, we’re all waiting for her (woman in her 30s, frizzy blonde hair, kind of trashy looking, I thought), and she whispers a few things to the instructor, and then she leaves! Turns out she can’t do it for some reason. Now the instructor is really annoyed. She was always really anal about following the syllubus, and this was going to screw up the schedule. And she says, ``I’m sorry, but we seem to be short a female model. I’m going to get a statue from the sculpture room, I guess we’ll use that.’’ She’s really perturbed, and Mike says (very obviously joking), ``Amy will do it.’’ The whole class busts up laughing, me included. But then the instructor is looking at me, like it just occurred to her. Then she looks all around the room, at the women in the room, sort of making eye contact with each of them, you know?
I still don’t know what made me do this, but I think maybe it was the thought of Mike and Mark sitting there watching. It was like when I stood in front of the mirror and got so hot about it. I can’t explain it, I just really wanted to take my clothes off for them. And I’m looking around the class at all the students, about 20 of them, and thinking about standing naked with all those eyes on me was getting me worked up, even thinking about the WOMEN looking at me. Part of it is (i have to say) I had a pretty hot body, and I knew it. I mean, I was 20! Big boobs (though not as big as now) and nice tummy and, like I said, a total bush. I just imagined it for a moment, standing there showing it all to Mike and Mark and the rest of them, and then I thought, ``nice fantasy,’’ and I figured I’d stroke on it after class and leave it at that.
So the teacher is starting to walk out of the room to go and get a statue for us all to spend the next two hours drawing (yawn) and suddenly I thought, hey when is the next time in my life that I’m going to have a legitimate excuse to take off my clothes for a roomful of people? And I suddenly cleared my throat and said: ``I’ll do it.’’
Now this is the part you have to picture: my 20-yr-old self standing there stark naked in an office, in front of the door, about to open it and step out into a roomful of students, including my pals, Mike and Mark, who I’d been fantasizing about showing my ``mary’’ to . And here I was about to do it! They were right out there!! I checked myself out (no mirror in the office, unfortunately), fluffed my pubes a little, sucked in my tummy, kind of held my chest out, deciding how I’d want it to look. My nipples were hard as fucking rocks, and there wasn’t going to be any way to hide THAT, and the thought that everyone would see how hard they were just made them harder.
It’s funny, but that’s the moment I usually focus on when I remember this and stroke. It’s not when I was actually in front of the class, but just before that, waiting to go out, anticipating it. That’s what always gets me hottest. I guess I see what you mean, alv, when you talk about thoughts being as good (or better) than the real thing (but don’t tell gem, she’l kill me). It was like that last little hill at the top of the roller-coaster, just before it drops down the big slope, when you just seem to pause there at the top, looking down? When you can still imagine what it’s going to be like, before reality barges in. That’s what kind of thrill this was when I started to open the door and walk out.
Here’s the funniest part: I forgot the towel! No kidding, with all that nervousness and anticipation, you’d think I’d have wrapped it tight around me, but I didn’t. I completely forgot it was there. I was so determined to do this that I forgot how it was done. Usually, the model comes in wearing a towel or robe, then takes it off when everyone has had time to kind of settle in and calm down. But NOOOO. I just opened the door and stepped into the classroom, STARK FUCKING NAKED,
I step into the room, kind of looking down at the floor. Bare feet (of course), and the floor is cold on them. And the air is kind of cold, and it was so wierd feeling open air and light on my boobs and ass like that. Think about it – how often are we totally naked in an open room, in full light and air, no water or sheets around us? Then I look up and the whole class is staring with their mouths wide open, completely speechless. I couldn’t even look at Mike and Mark, I was shaking too much. The instructor was stunned. She had expected me to come out wearing the towel, and suddenly here’s this stark-fucking-naked sophomore, standing there with her big boobs and bush, waiting for instructions. She just stared for a second, like she wasn’t getting it. Then she says, ``Oh, okay, Amy, you’re ready! Okay, um, yes – um, why don’t you just sit in the chair? Yeah, we’ll have you sitting.’’ Then she goes over and quickly locks the glass door and pulls the blind (it had been open!) which is what she’d normally have done before telling the model to remove the towel.
So I go to this wooden chair with a blanket on it in the middle of the class, with all the desks arranged around it and all the students staring right at me. I sit, really carefully, kind a daintily, clenching my mary tight, not wanting to accidentally show too much, you know? (lol) And I sit, kind of leaning forward, legs together, hands folded right over it. Yes, I was covering up, after all that. Then I look at Mike and Mark fr the first time, and they’re both smiling a little, very encouraging smiles. I smiled back (god, they really were cool guys) and I thought, ``okay, for my M&Ms,’’ and I leaned back in the chair and moved my hands out of the way so the whole class could see my the top of my bush. Then I shifted in my seat, casually, trying not to make it look obvious, until my knees were facing Mike and Mark, so they had the best view of it. Mike stared RIGHT AT my mary, I was fighting the impulse to cover up the whole time, trying to keep myself calm. I just smiled a tiny bit at my pals once more, and they both smiled back, and they started drawing.
I sat for an hour, in a few different poses. By the end of it, I was comfortable and the class was comfortable and even though that was pretty much a good thing, it was also a little anti-climatic (so to speak, ar ar) because it had been so hot and electric for all of us at first and now it was just the end of class approaching and people thinking about what they had to do next. When it was over, I stepped back to the office, and made a point of pausing and smiling at Mike and Mark while I was still naked, and they smiled back, and then I went in and got dressed. And that was it.
So after class, I’m a little nervous that things will be different with Mike and Mark now that they’ve seen me naked, and they sort of sensed that, I think, because they made a point to invite me out for beers after class, and they were cool about it, like just being pals. I appreciated that. I might have felt like, `oh sure, now that they know I’ll show my mary to a whole class, they DEFINITELY want to have drinks with me,’ but they made sure it wasn’t like that. They razzed me a little, but good-naturedly, and Mike made some self-dep jokes about how he’d have posed himself but he was afraid that everyone would stampede to drop the class, which I thought was cool of him. Neither of them put out any hints about going to bed, and I didn’t either, that would have been weird at this point, taking the art-class model to bed right after art-class, I mean, who wants to sound like some porno cliché out of a penthouse-forum letter or something? (Gem, put your hand down) But I’ll admit, when I got back to my dorm alone, I stroked myself raw thinking about my M&Ms and what they saw in that class and what they were probably doing back in their own dorm rooms right then.
c:/mydocs/writing/miscwriting/chatstories/minnie
To: Alvn
From: MinniMous
I met Darrin when I first started working as an intern at that first law firm, this was more than 15 yrs ago. As you know, things haven’t been so great lately with us, and that’s another story, but I wanted to tell you about better times, and about the first time, with him. Which (as you know, Adam-ski) was my first time with anyone.
The first time I saw Darrin was in a big meeting we had that first summer, the whole staff of the firm. He was one of the paralegals, no rank at all, really, and I was this college kid who was just here for the summer, planning to be a lawyer some day (another thing that didn’t work out; another long story), meaning I had even less rank. I had the hots for a few of the partners, but I wasn’t paying any more attention to the paralegals than anyone else does. I might never have noticed Darrin at all if one of the junior partners hadn’t started yelling at me.
Here I am, working in this place less than a month at this point, and this junior partner starts berating me, right in this meeting with everyone there, because of a motion that didn’t get filed in the right place, which almost cost a case. It was the guy’s own fault, and everyone knew that, even the senior partners knew that, but he was nonetheless being allowed this little face-saving gesture of dressing down the intern about it, in front of everybody, even though my own involvement in the thing was minimal, I’d just done what I’d been told. I just had to sit there and take it, trying not to cry.
And then I see Darrin, this paralegal, not much more clout than I have myself, shaking his head and sighing this exasperated sigh, during the whole thing. And one of the senior partners looks over at Darrin and says, kind of with warning in his voice, ``Is something on your mind, Mr. Boone?’’ And Darrin looks at me and kind of sizes me up – we’d never once talked at this point – and I could see he was considering whether I was worth risking his job for. And then he looks the senior partner right in the eye, and says, ``Yeah, something’s on my mind. I think an attorney blaming an intern for his own mistake is not only counterproductive to the firm, but cowardly and cruel. And I think we owe this young woman an apology.’’
Oh my god! The junior partner’s eyes were the size of dinner plates! I thought he was going to come across the table at Darrin. Instead, he looks over at the senior partner, and gives him this look, like, ``What are you going to do about this?’’ And the senior partner looks like he’s not sure what he’s going to do, like he’s still thinking. And just as I figured this poor paralegal is about to get fired for sticking up for me, the senior partner – older guy, real old-school – nods his head and looks at Darrin and says, ``Mr. Boone, I think you’re right.’’ And then he makes the junior partner apologize to me! Right there in front of everyone!
And here’s the part about this story that I don’t tell people when they ask how Darrin and I met: I was wet. I mean, WET. I mean, if Darrin had asked me to step into the supply closet at that point for a quick paralegal-intern consultation, I swear he could have had me there and then (though no one ever had at that point). GOD that turned me on! And it bothered me that it turned me on. I mean, I was a strong, independent young woman, career-oriented, not at all into fairy tales about knights in shining armor. But the way he’d stood up for me like that just pushed some kind of button, one that stayed pushed the rest of the time I was there at that firm.
It was about a week later that I felt, like a hot glare, someone’s gaze on me. I looked across the office to see Darrin looking directly at me. I’d looked quickly enough to realize that he’d been staring at my breasts.
Ordinarily, this might have angered me, because we were in the workplace, but he looked so embarrassed to have been caught that I immediately considered his reaction something of an apology for doing something he couldn’t quite help. Which, despite myself, is something I found appealing. And of course, I was still affected by how he’d stood up for me at that meeting. (I’m not going to go into too much detail here,
I wore a black skirt and a mustard yellow sweater that had become a preferred garment because, when I looked in the mirror, I could see perfectly the outline of my favorite features and the way my body sloped down sharply into my ribcage just below them. It was clingy enough that it revealed the generous rise from there into my hips. I usually chose to wear it because I liked the look of it as I passed by mirrors or reflective panes of glass, not because I was trying to impress anyone else. But on this night, I was wearing it for him.
We had dinner at a Bohemian restaurant that was supposed to be good. It wasn’t, really, but I enjoyed it because Darrin was working very hard to impress me, engaging me with talk about the cases he was working on and current events (this was during the Clinton Administration, so political talk was pretty sexy, as you might recall). He was also looking longingly at the mustard sweater whenever I turned to talk to the waiter or to take a drink from my glass. I appreciated his adeptness at talking to me in this way, and also that it was so very obvious what he was trying to get by doing so. As you know as well as anyone, Adam-ski, I like my breasts; I had put them out there in front of me like an invitation and I liked that it was so effective with him. The more wine he drank, the more interested he became both in studying me and in arguing with me about some legal theory of his.
We were in his car, and we headed back to the city. But on the way we decided to stop and talk in the parking lot of one of the firm’s suburban offices. As we talked, I turned to face him in my seat. He turned toward me and continued to argue his point. I leaned forward slowly, ostensibly to rest my arm on the console between us; he found cause to sit with his elbows propped first on his folded leg and then, after a time, on the console. We were close but he kept talking because I kept talking. This went on for twenty minutes, maybe half an hour. I would tell you what we were talking about but I can’t, really, because, even though we were talking vigorously about it, it was immaterial and therefore I don’t remember it. His black hair fell forward in a cascade toward me, and the wine made his face smell like blackberries. I was the first to kiss. I let our lower lips brush while he was still talking and he stopped talking in mid-sentence. He kissed me back, on the surface, and bit my lips a little. Then our mouths met, and our tongues. He kissed as expertly as he talked, and I could tell he was trying to lay the way for something else.
He took his time and I liked that. He made me feel like my breasts are a valuable commodity, something (somethings :) that had to be coaxed out gradually. We kissed for twenty minutes more, maybe thirty. I let my hand fall onto his forearm. He moved his body closer to mine so that I was eventually lying my head sort of on his shoulder while we continued to kiss. And then the magical thing happened; his hand came up to my upper arm and then, as it slid down ever so slowly, the inside of his forearm brushed the outer curve of my breast. I leaned into him gently because it felt good. He took that as a sign that he could leave it there, and he did so that, for a few minutes, he was feeling me with that tender part of him only. As his breathing grew more intense, he slid his arm back and let my breast fall into his open hand.
I had chosen to wear a very thin, lacy bra so that that I would feel everything of that first touch. The first touch is usually everything. And in this case it was explosive. He must have felt the hardness of my nipple through the thin fabric of the sweater, because there was a sharp intake of breath on his part. When he breathed back out, he moaned a little and, perhaps involuntarily, squeezed hungrily. That reaction brought out the desire in me, and I wrapped my hands around his neck partly to pull him closer but also to pull my breasts together so that he could touch them both at the same time with just one hand.
He went crazy with want. He was squeezing and touching me on both sides, moaning and breathing heavily while he did it. It was clear from my kisses and from the way I was holding him close that he could proceed, and he let his hand fall to the bottom of the sweater and find his way underneath it. He paused only briefly at my ribcage before making his way up and into my bra. The bra hooked in the front and, as a result of my pressing my breasts together as I was, it had already come undone. He was pleased to find this, and took the bare, heavy flesh into his hands of first one breast and then the other and then back again. His hands and his desire felt so good I didn’t want him to stop. He squeezed and kissed, and took my nipples between his finger tips rather roughly but not too much. He had one hand wrapped around my midsection, and was sort of holding me up while also feeling me with his thumb, and was ravaging me with the other hand like he was starving for me. His mouth moved down to my neck and down below my throat, and he was now feeling me with both hands and, as he pressed that swell of flesh upward, also with his kisses.
You know what? I don’t want to write more about that night. Seriously.
The truth is, the rare times I still think of Darrin as the love of my life – as my knight in shining armor – I think of that meeting with the junior partner, and I think of the time in that car, as he was hungrily exploring my breasts, unsure yet whether he would get to explore more. Those are really the two best stories I have from us. It’s all epilogue after that.
Okay, yes, I’ll tell you, later, at his apartment, he slid inside me, the first and only man who ever has. And it hurt a little, and there was a little pleasure, and there was the feeling that I’d finally crossed an intimidating boundary that had been there far longer than it should have been. And, yes, my life veered toward his, in the months and years that followed. The pathway to my naked body soon became a well-worn one for him. Almost immediately, he quit negotiating and began to drive straight toward the basket every time. I suppose it would have been hard for him to pretend he didn’t know that he would be granted permission, having broken the seal already.
What happens to people, do you suppose? What happens to couples, and that secret language that every couple creates when they’re feeling their way around the edges, trying to connect with one another? Early on, we’re so drawn by the need to create that language – the need to know and be known, is how I think of it – and yet once we have it, we rest on our laurels, we sit back and let the language deteriorate into slang, into half-remembered phrases and self-referential clichés that ultimately don’t mean anything but nostalgia.
We got married. We moved to
So about two years ago, we were at this dinner event with some of Darrin’s bosses at the firm, and one of the partners is kind of drunk, and he starts talking about my breasts. I mean, right in front of everyone. I was wearing kind of a plunging neckline, I guess, not that I usually do, but this was a gala kind of thing downtown and so I had dressed up a little, and maybe showed a little too much, and he starts saying things like, ``That’s a heckuva top’’ and ``Wow, could I lose myself in there.’’ I mean, just really smarmy. And Darrin is right there, and he doesn’t say anything, he just steers me off to another part of the room, and later, on the way home, tells me the guy’s got a drinking problem and is on a fast-track to senior partner, and that’s not a combination he wants to fuck around with.
So much for my knight in shining armor, hmm?
Still, there are some nights, when he’s sleeping, and I look over at him and remember that young, brazen paralegal who defended me to the whole firm and then earnestly and desperately worked his way under my sweater and into my life. That guy’s still in there somewhere, I think. In any case, I’m going to keep looking.
c:/mydocs/writing/miscwriting/chatstories/gwen
To: ALVN
From: GEM4U
Great story Minny. **yawn** Now if we’r done listening to miss dindt-go-past-second-base-til-she-was-practically-married over here, i want to tell u about the time I took on three guys at once. This was two years ago and they were college guys, and I was already in my 30s. I totally have the hot-older-womn thing going out here. Sorry i know this probly wont be as ``hot’’ as that one time minnie let her future-hubby feel her up in his car. (Adam, if u use THAT in yor book, then i better get my own fukking chapter!!)
I was sort of seeing one of them, a kid named Ken who took one of my aerobics classes to get in shape for basktball season. He wasnt all that tall tho (at least in terms of his height :) I took him to bed after he was in the class about a week. Nice cleancut kid, nice cock, kind of restless and horny in the way that 20-smthings are. I was enjoying it, just sort of havin fun, but hes getting all moony with me after awile, telling me he wants me to meet his family (! yea right!) ect. So then he asks me to at least meet some of his friends at this party, and i’m like, okay fine as long as I dont have to have tea with his old aunt gertrude or whatever.
So its a typical college-sports-guy party, I remember them well ;) lots of drinking and shouting and music and more guys than girls, and I’m the oldest woman there by a good 10 yrs but I don’t care because as soon as I come in with Ken, all the guys are like, WHOA! & all those dippy 20s college girls at that party, i swear they didnt know what hit them when a real woman showed up.
So we’re doing the drinking games and the flirting and all th rest, & ken is getting all pouty because I’m talking to one of his friends more than him, this big-honkin point-guard with long hair and pretty eyes, just gorgeous, but he’s one of these boys who doesnt know he‘s gorgeous, he’s still afraid of women and doesnt know that theyre wanting him, and thats really the best kind (that’s kind of what I liked about u in college, Alv – cuz u were so fuckng clueless about it). I swear I wanted to slurp that boy up like an icecream cone the second i saw him. But ken’s like ``whine whine whine.’’ really annoying. And i’ve had a few drinks and i’m thinking about how I’d like to teach that pointguard a couple new moves, but I also dont want a scene with ken, whos whining about how we should go cuz he wants to be alone with me (like he didnt get some that very morning) and I finally took him aside and said something like, `hey youv got your whole life to be a boring old man, why start already? do you want to have some fun or dont u?’ And he still doesnt know what i’m talking about (sheesh! it’s a wonder these kids ever graduate from ANYTHING!) and so finally I just step back and motion my hands down my body and say: ``ken, there’s plenty to go around here.’’ (lol. You shoudlv seen the look!)
I had done it once before, a threesome, with two guys, a couple years earlier, and it had been kind of awkward, but I think that’s because we were all th same age & experienc and no one was really taking charge. We were like this well-equipped army with no general (lol). You need someone in charge.
So I was going to be in charge this time, with these 2 big young horny boys. I tell ken this partys lame but he can bring his friend back to my place, and yes, i’m totally getting into the idea, i’m already thinking about everything I’m going to do for these boys and what I’m going to make these boys do for me, when the point-guard (who still has no idea) suddenly says, `oh wait, my roommate’s with me, i’m his ride.’’ and I look over and see that his roommate, this forward, is gorgeous too, half-black and mostly bald and looking like he’s not as scared shitless of me as most of the boys, he actually makes eye contact, which I liked.
Now
Back at my place I didnt waste any time. Ken sort of knew what was up, and he was beinjg a little pouty about it, but he knew it was this or nothing, the other two were clueless, I think maybe they thought I was just going to give them some pot or something. Cluelss, but I figured that would be half the fun, watching them react when they realized what they were going to get.
So we’re all four in the living room anmd there’s music on and a video on tv and I start kissing ken, really letting him have it, and hes feeling me up, and the other two boys are at first kind of pretending not to notice, theyre just watchign the tv. (!) Finally I get up and turn the tv off, and they look at me like, what now? And I strip off my shirt and slacks so I’m there in my bra and panties, and the forward, the half-black kid, says `holy shit’, hes finally starting to get it, but the point-guard still looks confused, so I walk over and kiss him and run my hand down and I can feel he’s half-hard. Then while the other two are sitting there watching, I drop down and pull down his jeans and take it out and he’s big and getting bigger, and when I’m sure they’re all watching, I take it deep in my mouth, and man, this boy is hard as a rock in about three seconds flat, and then about three seconds after that he suddenly cums, right on my bra! (boys!)
So the forward starts cracking up, and ken is still being pouty, and the point-guard is all embarrassed, and I suddenly realize, holyshit, he’s a virgin! How does a gorgeous hot athletic kid get to be 20 or however old he was without getting laid? I felt like laughing myself, but I didnt, I just stood up and kissed him and told him it was cool, we had all nite. I was nice about it, youd have been proud of me, Alvin.
Now the forward is ready, and I can see hes the most ready of the three. So I take him out, and hes already fully hard, and big, and I take him in my mouth, and I motion ken over, and he’s still pouting, but not so much that he doesn’t want his cock sucked, so he takes it out too, and pretty soon I’m going back and forth between ken and the forward, sucking them both. The point-guard came back over then, he was on his way back up, so I started taking him, too. & I’m thinking, this is it, gwen, sucking off three guys at once, well THIS is something new.
Pretty soon Im ready for more. I stand up and take off the bra, and the forward basically LUNGES and my left tit – I mean, he had his mouth on me so fast youd of thought he was starving. And while he’s sucking me, the point guard is playing with my other tit, just kind of squeezing, like he was checking it out, and I’m like, ok he can do that for a minute, but then we need to get down to business. Kens standing there still looking all pouty, and I can see he’s not as hard as the other two right now (the point-guard, who had cum 3 minutes earlier, was totally back up again. Boys!) & I’m realy starting to get annoyed with ken, but I’m also so turned on that I don’t think too much about being annoyed. I mean I’m standing there mostly naked, three big young guys looking at me with their three young hard cocks, groping my tits, fucking my mouth, breathing heavy, basically going nuts.
So now I’m ready, and I mean READY. I can’t remember the last time I was that wet, which as you know, alv, is saying something. I lead the boys into the bedroom & and I take the box of condoms out of the drawer and tell them ``saddle up,’’ and I peel off the panties while theyre all watching and rolling the condoms out. The point-guard breaks one trying to get it on, so I went over and helped him. meantime the forward, who obviously knows what hes doing, has got the condom on right away and he’s moving to the bed and look at me the whole time, kind of smiling and making eye contact and basically giving me this look like, `I want it NOW’ and that turns me on so much that I step over there and lie back and pull him right down on me.
And just like that Im getting totally fucked by this young stud while these other two boys are watching and stroking and waiting their turn(!!!)
But ken still looks pouty, and thats kind of putting a damper on things, and I’m starting to think hes gay or something – i mean, wouldnt most straight guys get turned on by this, a hot woman taking on him and his two pals at once? But all the sudden he’s mr. sensitive, and hes still not as hard as the other two, and so I’m thinking maybe hes really a secret homo or maybe just kind of a wuss, and I start thinking maybe I need to kick him out and just do the other two. But that’s a disappointing thought because I was really getting into the idea of taking on all 3 of them, so i figure I better give ken a little extra attention so he’ll get wth the program. So i motion him over to me (the forward is still fucking me at this point) and I take him in my mouth again and while I’m sucking him Im telling him how he’s my guy, hes the one, and these other two are just the bench-warmers (total bullshit – at this point I’m actually thinking I need to start seeing the forward after all this is over, that kid knows how to FUCK!) and that seemed to work, Ken starts getting nice and hard again.
Meantime the point-guard has finally got the condom figured out and he steps over and I take his cock in my hand. And the forward is still fuckking me for all hes worth, and then I totally get off on saying to him, ``okay, sweety, yor friends want a turn now, you can have seconds later.’’ Just saying it made me cum.
Well at this point even ken starts really getting into it. He’s second, and he fucks the hell out me while I’m stroking the other two, one in each hand, and theyre both playing with my tits. It was a hot fukking scene, I’l tell you. Then after a few minutes, the point-guard gets his turn, and while he’s on me, ken and the forward get the idea to hold my legs open, one of them holding each leg, kind of pinning me down like that for the point-guard (not hardcore or anything, I mean I could have pulled away from them if I’d wanted) and that sets me off a second time. Then the forward says he wants me from behind, which I thought was kind of ironic, since he’s a forward :)~ so I lay on my stomach and prop my ass up in the air off the edge of the bed and the forward stands next to the bed and fucks me like that, with the other two standing right next to him waiting, and then they’re taking turns again, one after the other ramming me hard from behind for a few minutes at a time, with me stroking my clit underneath me the whole time. At one point I lost track of which one was in me, that’s how much they were all getting it. Jesus, alv, I came like three times just from that part.
This goes on for a couple hours (boys!) and i actually start getting sore after awhile and I tell them we have to wrap it up, they can each have me one mor time in any position they want. The forward says he wants me to straddle him, so I do, I sink right down on him and get him in nice and deep & squirm around there while hes sucking with my tits, and he has a good cum. And then the point-guard rolls me onto my back and takes me like that, and he holds out for a pretty good long time this time before he finally cums. Then I say to ken, `yor turn sweety, how do you want me?’’ and he smiles this big goofy smile, and says, ``I just want to cuddle with you for the rest of the nite, thats all i really want.’’ What a fag.
c:/mydocs/writing/miscwriting/chatstories/janey
To: ALVN
From: JaneyX
You wanted stories. Does that mean just real stories? Do fantasies count?
I’ve had a fantasy lately about Mikey. A hot one. (Don’t show this story to him yet, though; I want him to read it in your book, so it’s a surprise)
He mentioned he has a birthday coming up, and that he knows his wife is having trouble deciding what to get him. So I go to his town, and I look up his wife at her job, and I lay it all out for her: ``I’m Janey; I’ve never met your husband in person, but we’ve talked on-line. I know you’re trying to figure out what to get him for his birthday. I have a suggestion: Get him a threesome. With us; you and I. I happen to know for a fact that‘s something he‘s fantasized about.’’
She’s a little shaken about the thing at first, but then she gets intrigued. Together, we plot it out: She’ll get him into bed that night, start seducing him, and she’ll leave the back door unlocked so I can come in while they’re doing it.
I slip into the house and strip stark naked. I quietly step into their bedroom (his wife has earlier drawn me a map of the layout of the house, so that I know where to go). I hear them going at it, Mikey and his wife. They’re positioned just as we had planned: Mikey on his back, his wife straddling him, taking him in from above. His eyes are closed, and that’s part of the plan, too – we had decided she would tell him to close his eyes before I arrived.
``Now keep them closed for a minute,’’ she whispers to him, ``just lie them and keep them closed,’’ and she gets up off of him, and I get on, right were she had been. I settled down on him, taking his cock deep inside me, and I lean over him. And then his wife says to him, ``Okay, open your eyes, honey. Happy birthday!’’
Mikey opens his eyes, and is stunned to find that the woman straddling him now isn’t his wife. Of course, we’ve never seen each other, so he has no idea who I am – he’s just seeing this busty hot curvy woman, her golden locks and big beautiful tits hanging in his face, her womanly hips grinding down on his cock, with his naked wife standing next to the bed, watching and smiling. So Mikey’s like, ``What the . . . ?‘’ until I finally let him in on it: ``It’s me, Mikey. It’s Janey. Happy birthday.’’
From there, we go nuts, Mikey’s wife and I, bringing this lucky birthday-boy the most pleasure he’s ever had in his life. We start by giving him a little lesbian show – kissing each other, sucking each other’s tits, fucking each other with the wife’s dildo, that kind of the stuff – while he watches and strokes his cock. Then we sandwich him between us, his wife pressing next him from behind while I hold my statuesque body against him from the front. Then I lie on my back and she lies on top of me on her stomach and we both spread, and he stands behind us, both our pussies laid out for him, and he goes back and forth, fucking the holy hell out of both of us. Getting all the woman he’s ever had.
Afterward, we all three talk and laugh. We shower together. We go for a long night stroll out on the River Walk, just watching the stars and smiling about our little secret. Mikey’s wife takes his arm and asks if he liked his birthday. ``It’s the best one I’ve ever had,’’ he says.
c:/notes/rverwalk/adam8346
I’d never been to
Of course, I had no way of knowing then that Mikey lived in
should have seen the clue that she perhaps knew more about Mikey than the rest of us did, more than she was supposed to.
``The River Walk.’’ I, of all people, should have recognized that such a cold hard piece of reality didn’t belong there, shining like metallic litter among the soft green weeds of fantasy.
c:/mydocs/writing/miscwriting/chatstories/mikey
To: ALVN
From: Mikey000
(cc.: everyone)
Wow do I have a hot story for all of you. Hot, sizzling, etc. You’ll definitely want to use it in your book,
It goes like this: I’m having dinner with my wife, two nights ago, on my birthday. We’re at a nice restaurant near the River Walk (I live in
Now, my wife doesn’t know about you guys – and think what you will about that, whatever, but this place was my little secret – so when she starts asking me about this person who says she knows me, and tried to get into the weird conversation with her at work, which had something to do with sex but she wasn’t sure what, well, I kind of freaked, and I told her I had no idea what she was talking about. Luckily she works at a doctor’s office, and they get some crazy people going through there, so finally my wife just shrugs it off as some nut. But of course I’m freaking out for the rest of the night because she’d said the woman who called her was named Janey, and I’m thinking ``JaneyX,’’ the only Janey I know, and she’s always talking to me when we’re online. But then I think, no way, how would she find my wife’s office, she doesn’t know my real name, what city I’m in, nothing, so I start to calm down a little.
So later that night we’re in bed, it’s after midnight and there’s all kinds of commotion from next door – lights flashing, police radios, etc. Our neighbors there are this retired couple, they’re old, and my wife is worried now, so we get dressed and go over just as they’re taking the husband out on a stretcher, with the wife walking next to it. He’s all pale and shaking and they’re giving him oxygen, and the wife is crying, and we’re thinking, oh, man, they were robbed, assaulted, whatever.
And then the cops come out of the house, and they’ve got this woman with them, in handcuffs, this middle-age kind of mousy-blonde woman, really skinny. They’ve got a blanket around her, but she’s fighting with them so the blanket keeps slipping off, and underneath it, she’s stark naked. And she’s really flipping out, trying to squirm away from them, babbling about how it was an honest mistake, she just got the wrong house, and if they would just call Michael Gillespie, he’d tell them and straighten everything out.
Well, I’m Michael Gillespie. That’s my real name (like I said, what the hell does it matter now to tell you all?). So my wife hears this naked crazy woman saying my name and telling them she was invited and she just got the wrong house and that they‘re going to ruin my birthday if they arrest her. And my wife hears all of this, and she’s glaring at me and putting it all together now, realizing that this is the woman who called her, and that she does know me (though I still don’t know how she got my real name or address or any of it. Not that it matters anymore).
So what can I say? Nothing. My wife just glares at me as I stand there and watch them put this naked, raving woman, who is obviously JaneyX, into the police car. Then my wife goes back in the house and comes out with a shopping bag with some of my clothes stuffed in it and drops it in front of me, and hands me my car keys, and goes back in the house and slams the door, and that’s that.
Next day, word goes around the neighborhood about what happened, because the cops apparently were laughing about it and some of our neighbors overhead them: this woman had broken into this old couple’s bedroom, and stripped naked, and was in the process of climbing on top of the old man when he and the wife both woke up and freaked. Cops said she kept calling him `Mikey,’ and was sitting on top of him when he woke up. Then she apparently tried to get on the wife too, and that’s when the old guy had the seizure.
Anyway, there’s my story. Pretty hot, huh? I’m writing it from a hotel room, which is where I live at the moment. So if anyone chats with Janey, please tell her hi and fuckin thank her for me.
c:/mynotes/steinbeck23/CnnryRow15
. . . Then the Thing becomes the Word and back to Thing again, but warped and woven into a fantastic pattern . . .
c:/notes/miscnotes/chatstuff/janey0000
Alvn: we’re all agreed?
MinniMous: yes
JaneyX: dont do this you guys
Amy69: sorry janey. you knew the rules
Mikey000: yes. bitch.
JaneyX: dont do this, you guys!
JaneyX: i wont do it again i promis
Gem4U: sorry honey. i’ll miss you. it was gun
Gem4U: i mean fun
MinniMous:
Alvn: yes. all but janey.
JaneyX: don’t do this
JaneyX: i’ll do anything
JaneyX: you want to fuck me? we can right now!
JaneyX: ill do it for real too!
Alvn: I’ll have the new password to the rest of you
Alvn: in a few minutes.
JaneyX: gem i’ll lick yor clit!!
DeXtr: see you in the new room
Gem4U: okay, new room
MinniMous: 10 minutes?
Amy69: right. 10 minutes
JaneyX: DON"T DO THIS YOU GUYS!!
Alvn: see you all there.
JaneyX: FUCK YOU
Alvn: bye, janey.
Full Text / All Chapters < > To Chapter 16
I am seeking a literary agent or publisher
Contact: alvinpart2@yahoo.com
