---------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Electronic Erotica", volume 1, number 6. Date: 17 Jun 89 03:14:18 GMT CONTENTS: Intro to eEros Lounging The Seance A Pleasant Visitor ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- INTRO TO EEROS EEros is a periodical of reader-submitted erotic fiction. It is published once a month (currently near the middle of the month) in the 'alt.sex' newsgroup on usenet. There is a mailing list, but the resources are VERY limited for supporting it, so if you can read the newsgroup, DO NOT ASK TO BE ADDED TO THE MAILING LIST. I don't have the time or resources to fill requests for previous issues, so don't ask. At least one kind soul on the net has offered to make back issues available for anonymous ftp from unocss.unl.edu (129.93.1.11) in the 'pub/altsex/eros' directory. The maintainer of that archive is Tim Russell or . If you don't have ftp access, I'm sorry. Maybe someone someday will set up a way to request back issues via email. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- LOUNGING It's godawful hot outside. Not too humid, but the kind of heat that bears down if you're not in the shade and almost disappears if you are. The husband and kids are away for the day, she can be more informal. After the morning run she showers and puts the shorts back on with only a bathing suit top. The day to herself, she stretches out on the lounge chair in the backyard with her summer novel. After only a few pages though, she finds that she just can't get HIM out of her mind. She can still feel him against her even though they were only together for 36 hours last weekend. The backyard is enclsoed by hedges and fences. As her mind wanders she need not worry if her hand finds itself slowly stroking her cunt from the outside of her shorts. Her nipples harden as she remebers him rubbing her ass gently as they rode up the elevator together. They kissed after they came through the door to his apartment. She remembers his body and what they did and her fingers slide beneath her shorts and the satin panties beneath, stroking the lips of her vagina softly. He had done that too, sitting next to her on the bed, one hand fingering her while the other carressed her nipples, her chest and her stomach. It had been some time since she had experienced a new man, with new smells and tastes, a different smile and life and a new style of loving. Never in a hurry, he had gently played with her pussy until she was so wet and hot that she literally pushed him onto his back and mounted him, almost coming as he penetrated her. He pinched and rubbed her nipples as she slid up and down on him, grinding herself against and around his hardness. It was also a time for her to be reassured that she certainly could still make a man beg her to finish him off, as he did when she sucked him. She loved the way he squirmed beneath her and groaned, how his stomach and thighs tightened up when she finally gave him the long hard strokes that emptied his sweet balls into her mouth. Each foot is now planted on the deck on each side of the lounge chair. Her eyes are closed and her back is slightly arched as she slowly fingers herself, rubbing her wet clit as her mind goes back to the feel of his cock rubbing against her ass just before he entered her from behind. His cock filling her pussy and his finger slipping in and out of her ass as he whispered into her ear the effect watching her muscular back and wonderful ass was having on him as he fucked her. The hottest memory was his tongue. Men love to be sucked but they're often publicly hypocritical about it, using derisive terms to refer to women who enjoy giving head. Women aren't so stupid, they appreciate men who love to eat pussy and this man, if he were a woman and roles were reversed, would be considered a real slut. He took his time and used his tongue, lips, fingers, nose and face to bring pleasure to her. So slow and wet at first, the sweet bastard kept her going for almost an hour. He tongued her ass while a finger squirmed into her and another tapped her clit gently. Tap...tap....taptaptap. He used long full tongued strokes that started at her ass and covered her pussy lips and ended at her clit. His hands, usually cupping her ass cheeks, periodically reached up to rub her breasts. She loved it. The idea of a man lying between her legs and catering to her needs always turned her on and the memory of this man, new, hard and so accomodating, wanting her to come all over his face after licking and sucking her for an hour. She had finally grapped his head and taken her release grinding herself against his tongue, his face. For the first time in a long time she felt as if she really lost it, didn't care how loud she was or what she screamed in the night, her hands grabbed his head so closely. His tongue in the final moments somehow knew just what she wanted. Someone at sometime had taught this boy but good. Fast wet tongue on her clit making her cum. Thinking about it a week later on the deck in her backyard, the summer sun beat down, making her sweat as her fingers rubbed her pussy, pretending that they were his lips, his tongue, his fingers. She thought he'd probably like to see her this way, soaked with sweat, nipples showing through her top, hand in her pants, moving her hips against it. Yes, if only he were here now...just as she came she thought he was standing next to her, leaning against the lounge chair, nude. Stroking his hard cock as he watches her bring herself off...she reaches up and gently rubs his balls...she can see his muscles tightening and that beautiful look on his face. She comes, loudly, closing her eyes. As she does she is sure she can hear him and feel his warm cum spurting across her chest and stomach..... ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- THE SEANCE After dinner the clamor for a seance renewed, and of course in the end--after the usual mutterings from the Colonel about "poppycock" and "much better to have a good round of whist"--it was decided. Accordingly, we cleared the drawing room and set the large table in the center, covered with a cloth of heavy purple velvet which Lady Elma produced "to propitiate the spirits." Indeed, the ladies had a great flutter about doing it all properly--sitting around the table, holding hands, with our feet placed on the top of our neighbors' (or underneath, as the case might be) so as to detect any trace of attempted mortal meddling. For, as Lady Elma most properly pointed out, "There was no point to doing it at all unless you were prepared to do it seriously!" At last we were settled, fairly widely spaced at the table, our legs and arms stretched out to our neighbors, with the candles doused and the curtains tightly drawn. For a few moments there were titters as people adjusted themselves---"I say, Harry, don't stamp so on my toes!"--but at last silence fell, a heavy, expectant silence undisturbed even by the winds outside. In such an atmosphere, it is difficult to mark the passing of time, so it is nearly impossible for me to say how long we waited thus, and I suppose I had fallen into a sort of reverie (helped along by the wine), when all of a sudden I became aware of a touch against my leg. I held my breath--for in my near-trance I was almost prepared for it to be a ghost--and for a moment nothing happened. Then it came again--a gentle touch, as of a hand beginning a tentative caress upon my thigh. It continued--it was unmistakeable--someone or something was stroking my thigh, and indeed if one could judge from appearances its intentions were far from innocent, for it slowly proceeded towards my crotch and at last began lightly stroking the fabric against my private parts. For the moment I was stunned--still really unsure of the reality of what was happening, so suddenly had it begun, and also increasingly aware of the pleasure stealing over me from the touch. I was, furthermore, becoming aware that I must above all keep still, for my neighbors would of course detect the slightest motion of my limbs, and after the incident of the night before I was determined not to be thought the culprit again. But scarcely had I time to caution myself thus then my self-control was put to the test, for I became aware of a hand unbuttoning my trousers, and then suddenly warm, soft fingers were reaching in, grasping my member, and drawing it, stiffening, forth. The quick touch nearly made me gasp--I caught myself in time, and deliberately set myself to relax my limbs lest they betray me. By now I was far too engrossed in the possibilities which awaited to wonder--or care--what or who could possibly be touching me thus: fingers were holding me gently, and at last the unmistakeable warmth and wetness of a tongue touched the eager, the trembling, the exquisitely sensitive tip of my cock. I shut my eyes against the darkness, trying to imagine what was happening--lips, tongue, flashing teeth, my rod slowly entering the welcome cavity--but suddenly the touch was withdrawn. My cock launched itself helplessly out into the blackness, into the air, feeling itself abruptly deserted--I held my breath once more in an agony of hope, and at last! was rewarded by the delicious sensation once again of a tongue's caress. It continued--it slowly welcomed more and more of my desperately aroused flesh into the soft friction. I yearned to thrust still further inward; the slow suspense was tantalizing torture, the more so because I knew I _must_not_ move, and the degrees by which the lips--those glorious lips!--made their soft and lubricious progress first onward and then withdrawing backward along what felt like a yard of acutely tingling penis, were nearly unbearable. A centimeter forwards, an inch of bliss as my whole body nearly shuddered with the deliberateness of it--then an inch back--an inch of combined pleasure and tension, with always the fear that the touch would disappear as it had come. I could feel the tongue as well, moving against the underside of my rod in slow circles as the lips worked slowly upwards, till at last! I was fully enclosed, so firmly and warmly held that I could almost imagine myself engulfed in the wet haven of a woman's sex. By that time my heart was pounding, and my breathing was in grave danger of becoming audible--I was thus almost grateful for the pause as this ethereal lover ceased to move and held me, pulsing in every limb, but especially in that which was so wonderfully embedded in the ghostly mouth. All was still silent in the room, and I realized that I had no idea at all how much time had passed--perhaps the others would soon become restless and--awful thought!--break up our circle before this mystery had had its way with me! Whatever it was, it seemed to have had the same thought, for in a moment I felt it slowly begin again, this time with a stronger rhythm and a firmness of touch which made me wonder whether the experience might not be over all too soon. And now, too, a new sensation was added: that of soft hands once more touching me, this time sliding over my now slick sex while those gentle, gentle lips still sucked and licked at its very tip. I felt a dangerous pleasure beginning to mount as the rhythm went to my head--my whole body was concentrated in this one member, consumed with the mesmerizing sensations of my penis, sliding, sliding effortlessly within that smooth grasp, until in my mind's eye I could nearly see the woman kneeling between my legs, the penis disappearing deep into her mouth and emerging, sliding past her lips and their pressure, her tongue and its exquisite friction, while her hands cradled my balls and added an almost distractingly delicate tickling to the already overwhelming pleasure. Then I imagined her beneath me, lying open before me as I entered her again and again, each time feeling her outer lips grasp me and then her wet, warm sex give way before my thrust, her hips moving around the root of my rod and sending pleasure through my belly and bones as I sought to bury my entire length--nay my entire body--within her. The fantasy was so complete that at last I felt the imperative sperm surge up within me--I was in the grasp of a rhythm too strong to resist, and with an uncontrollable shudder I felt myself spurt forth the pent-up desires and liquids of a month's abstinence. I think I gasped--I must have quivered--but as the force of my orgasm died away and I came to myself I recollected what had indeed been forgotten in the preceding ecstasy--that I was surrounded by people. Had anyone detected my agitation? All was silent in the darkness--I waited in an agony of suspense as the silence drew itself out into what seemed like hours, and then--"I say, have we got to sit here very much longer?" came the cheerful voice of Harry Vane. "Yes--I say--it's deuced dark." "And my foot's gone to sleep!" chimed in Miss Pearson and Freddy Postlethwaite. A snore from my left announced that the Colonel was oblivious. The lights came up--Lady Elma, standing match in hand by the candelabra, asked cheerfully, "Has anyone detected a ghost?" Various voices responded in the negative--I was seized by a sudden fear lest my trousers (as absurd though this is!) be unbuttoned--I contrived to examine them, and found them secure! What had happened? An ingenious ghost--a cautious ghost! Ah--a voluptuous ghost! I looked up and caught Lady Elma's smile as she looked at me, archly, and a sudden suspicion crossed my mind--was that a trace of moisture on her lovely lips? Or merely lamplight . . . ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- A PLEASANT VISITOR I could tell it had been a long day for you as soon as you walked through the door. I'd flown in for the weekend, a relatively rare visit and let myself in with your key. dinner was ready and the food and wine seemed to bring your spirits up a bit. After dinner and dishes talk of the day, easy cuddling and some talk of the future. You suggested a backrub, both to get your kinks out and to help us both relax. In the candlelight I'm reminded how much a simple pleasure it can be to watch someone you love undress in front of you. Some things are so mundane but so important. Naked beneath the sheets and warm comforters you can lounge on your stomach while I slide my hands over your shoulders, spine and sides. There's some tension that I spend some time kneading out, a smile spreads across your face when I squeeze the right knotted muscle. The wine probably helps, providing a a fuzzy veil over everything we do and feel. Originally I'm straddled over you so I can really work on your back but after fifteen or twenty minutes I want to settle down and slide down next to you, lying on my side, leaning against yours. I still have a hand sliding over your back, from the shoulders down to the small, but no anatomical efforts now, just the warm comforting feeling of skin brushing against skin. Every few strokes I include your ass and the backs of your thighs in my palm's tour of your back. You ass and thighs are always nice and strong, from years of running two miles a day and summers of leader teens on hikes in the mountains of New Hampshire. Every time I do this I'm reminded of how we concentrate on the obvious: genitals, breasts. But backs have their own beauty, their own sensuality. So do fingers, hands, arms, knees. I'm not usually so philosophical under the influence of soave. Lying next to you is having its effect on me, especially after three hours on a plane. I'm concentrating on the small of your back and your ass now, with occasional forays back to your shoulders. You smell of your day at work and I taste the saltiness as I lick and kiss a shoulder and then your neck. You smile again, knowing what I'm up to, probably having waited for me start since the backrub began. Stroking your ass I let my hand slip between your cheeks, slightly deeper with every other move or so, tickling you a bit but also beginning to brush against your pubic hairs from behind. You part your legs just slightly and giggle, turning your head toward me and giving me the kind of smile that attracted me to you in the first place. I'm still mostly rubbing your ass but more and more a finger or two are stroking your lips as they slip down, spending more and more time lightly brushing. You sigh and I leave my hand embedded between your legs, a finger lying across the length of your exposed lips, lightly moving side to side, pressing slightly. You squirm a bit and move closer to me, kissing my arm and nibbling a bit, then licking slowly. My hand starts to move up and down more, the tip of my middle finger slipping just inside at the bottom of each stroke. You turn and look me directly in the eyes and move toward me, mouth slightly open. I feel more wetness and slip a full finger inside you. You moan just a bit as our mouths meet and tongues slide against each other. I start to move my finger slowly inside you, moving a bit deeper. You part your legs a bit more, I slip a second finger inside. My middle finger moves toward your clit, you're raising your ass slightly off the bed. I'm rubbing your clit very gently and start kissing your back again as you break off the kiss. Slowly I lick my way down your back, I've always liked your taste, until I reach your ass. Your legs and ass are moving slowly against my hand now and I use the other to part your ass cheeks. My tongue slides down to you asshole and when it touches and I press against it, I can hear you let out a full breath. I whisper for you to flip over. I'm lying between your legs, stroking the insides of your thighs and pulling gently on your pubic hairs with my lips. Long slow strokes of my tongue bottom to top along the lips of your wet cunt, slight pause at the end when I reach your clit. Slow and easy and then drawing your lips briefly between mine, then slipping my tongue inside. Your left hand slides down and rests on top of my head. I slide one finger and then two inside and continue licking, more and more on your clit as you're getting higher, holding my head tighter aginast you as I start to move faster, still full tongued. It's easy to tell when you're getting really high and I look up to see that glazed over countenance through half open eyelids. Your noisiness really has its effect on me, I'm very hard and becoming totally immersed in your soundssmelltaste and the fact that you're starting to shiver, one hand holding my head against you more tightly, the other is rubbing your nipples. A finger slides against your asshole now. My thumb is in your cunt and I slip a finger into your ass. I can sense your close to cumming and I suddenly shake my head from side to side very rapidly You lose it. Legs and feet sliding against the sheets my face is pressing against wet musky womansmell held closely by a desperate hand. Your groans remind me again of how much I'm turned on by the sounds of lovemaking. When I was in college I couldnt help hear roomates and their lovers. I'd bring myself off as they did. I move up over you and we hold each other tight, kisses, whispers, warmth. You still move against me and raise your legs in invitation. And I thought you were worn from work. Six weeks of separation can make people very horny. I slip in very easily. The initial rush almost makes me lose control but I pause and then start screwing. Your hands slide along my back and sides and I nibble and kiss you neck and lips. After five or ten minutes it's like a slow dance. We move against each other. I can feel your muscles holding me, the heat and wetness are just what I need. You're whispering in my ear, "Baby wants to cum, doesnt he?", "Go ahead baby, don't hold back." I move off you a bit and you stroke my chest with your hands. You've decided that I want this to last a bitlonger and move a hand down to your clit, not too sensitive to be rubbed. We're totally out of time. A dance out of time. Good fucking is not just refusing to answer the phone if it rings, it's refusing to even hear it. Now we're both very high. Thighs against thighs, sweating stomachs, staring into each other eyes. The eye contact could be the thing that finsihes us both. It does. You've been working your clit quickly and slip over some brink, vaginal muscles taking me with you. I feel it start in my balls and it shoots right up my back and stomach muscles, rippling through my body. Just like it always does when we make it last. There are times for quick and hard, but this had to be slow and smooth. My head snaps up and I scream. We remain entwined for long after, enjoying the aftershocks and union after a long time apart. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- End of "Electronic Erotica", volume 1, number 6. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- [] Daryl VanHorne, editor, "Electronic Erotica" (eEros) SUBMISSIONS TO: eeros@dbnv.midgard.mn.org OR: {any backbone}!bungia!midgard!dbnv!eeros ALL FLAMES TO: /dev/null