Just Reading News


I choose the clothing carefully. Cream silk shirt and black lace bra.
Nothing else. After a long day in tailored suit and itchy hose, the
temptation to just walk around naked is strong, but this will work better.

The computer's already on -- I never turned it off this morning. My nosy
roommate won't be home from work for another hour. An hour should enough.

I've been waiting for this all day. Just one of those days when you can't
stop thinking about it -- when you want to lock your married, overweight
boss in his office and tear his expensive clothes off. Thank god I'm not a
horny  male -- my poor boss wouldn't survive that. He'd die of
embarrassment.

I'm damp already. My breasts are sore, heavy. As I sit down at the computer,
I run a quick hand across a nipple, unable to resist that indescribable
twinge. Then I quickly turn on the modem, dial in. Rec.arts.erotica is empty
again, but there's a never- ending stream in alt.sex.stories, and literary
quality isn't terribly important right now.

"He thrust his nine-inch rod into her steamy love tunnel." Not this one.
Some things are just unacceptable.

As I select a string of likely-sounding stories and start spacing through, I
thank whatever benevolent diety invented the net. So much cheaper than
buying real erotica. So much more comfortable than trying to hold open _The
Story of O_, or _The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty_, while the pages are
slipping from sweaty fingers. It only takes one intermittent finger to press
the spacebar.

"He looked, horrified, at the four men holding down his little daughter. The
marks of their whips were clear against her pale body. She cried out,
'Please, daddy! They'll hurt me again....don't let them hurt me. I want you,
daddy...' He slowly lowered himself onto her, promising himself that nobody
would hurt his little girl again..."

I continue to caress my nipples as I read, squeezing and occasionally
pinching, rolling the skin through the silk and lace. I've tried just silk,
but there's a delicious roughness in lace on sensitive skin. The silk slides
across my back and shoulders as I rock slowly. I cross my legs, first one
way, then the other. This chair is too hard, but there's no time to stop
now.

I'm ready so quickly this time. Like the unlikely child in the story,
wanting something. I slide a hand across the silk, rubbing it against my
breast, my stomach. "She undressed in front of the window every evening.
After everyone else had left the office, she slipped into a co-worker's
office, and slowly stripped off her clothes. She leaned against the 67th
floor windows in the Amoco building, looking out over the lake, almost
positive that nobody could see her. She rubbed her naked, taunting body
against the cold glass."

Scattered around the computer are my paraphernalia...more silk shirts,
candles, a bowl of lukewarm water that was full of ice yesterday. I pick up
a shirt from the floor, and run it between my legs, pausing between stories
to use both hands to pull it back and forth against my clit. It's pleasant,
but frustrating. I remind myself once again to buy a vibrator. Then I start
reading again. This one is marked 'nc'.

Three men have broken in and are taking turns pounding into a screaming
woman. It's unclear who's doing what, but it doesn't really matter. My pulse
is racing now, and while I'm not quite moaning, I'm no longer silent. I
cross my legs again, tightening the muscles against the bunched silk.
Rocking once more, fingers tightening on my right nipple through the lace.
The big construction worker flips her over and enters her again, his hard
chest slamming into her back. I squeeze harder, and oh, this will hurt
later, but it doesn't matter.

My leg muscles are clenched so tight that pins and needles are racing up and
down them. Somehow, that only makes it better, the tension building and
building as I rock back and forth with silk rubbing against my clit. The
woman is screaming and I am whimpering now, climbing higher and higher until
I think I cannot do this anymore, I have to relax my muscles, I just
can't....

And then it's suddenly here, and I don't know if I'm screaming too, or
silent, as my orgasm grabs me and all my muscles convulse at once and relax
so slowly and the world just blanks out around me, dissolving into haze.

Eventually, I can see again. I let go of my poor, maltreated nipple, and
uncross my legs for a moment, letting the silk shirt fall to the floor. It's
5:18 by the computer clock, and I have over forty minutes before my roommate
is likely to arrive. I stretch, pause to pet the cat that has somehow
climbed onto the monitor, shift and settle again in the hard chair.

I select a new set of stories, and start reading again...