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@BEGIN_FILE_ID.DIZ
"Electronic Erotica", volume 1, number 4.
CONTENTS:
    A Letter from the Editor
    Reflexology
    Spread-Eagle    (mild bondage)@END_FILE_ID.DIZ


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            A LETTER FROM THE EDITOR

Ugh... TAXES!  Well, better late than never I guess.  I almost feel
like this issue isn't really needed given the recent resurgence of
talk about SEX in alt.SEX (difficult to believe, but fortunately it
is true).  This issue is somewhat smaller than previous issues since
I've heard that the 32K+ issues might not be making it through some
of the gateways (too fat to fit through the door, so to speak).  Also,
I posted an intro to alt.sex recently.  Some of the information,
particularly the information about the maintainer of the back-issues
archive, wasn't quite correct.  The new intro is as follows:

    Commonly Asked Questions about "Electronic Erotica"

1.  What is "Electronic Erotica" (aka eEros)?
    EEros is a periodical of reader-submitted erotic fiction.
    There's nothing wrong with true stories, but I will assume
    that everything I publish is fiction.

2.  How can I get it?
    EEros is published once a month (currently near the middle
    of the month) in the 'alt.sex' newsgroup on usenet.

3.  Is there a mailing list?
    Yes, but the resources are VERY limited for supporting it.
    The issues will always be posted in 'alt.sex', so if you
    can read the newsgroup, DO NOT ASK TO BE ADDED TO THE
    MAILING LIST.

4.  How do I get back issues?
    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 <[e-mail]> or <[e-mail]>.
    If you don't have ftp access, I'm sorry.  Maybe someone
    will set up a way to request back issues via email.


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            REFLEXOLOGY

     I had finished the last of my Friday reflexology classes, and
had   my  certificate  in  hand.    The  crudely-executed   Gothic
calligraphy  in which my name was etched was smudged peacock  blue
on  the  right side,  but it bothered me little,  as  this  wasn't
something  I  was going to have on the wall of  my  law  practice.
Things were going smoothly in general, and my girlfriend and I had
plans for that evening.

     The phone had rung at home Wednesday night, as I was slipping
in and out of light napping to the melodies of an old Tull  record
I found in the basement.   I groaned in unison with my joints as I
stumbled  up  from the easy chair to the  telephone.   "Hello,"  I
murmured.
     "Hi," came the sultry voice from the other end.  Kari may not
be  a  swimsuit model--a bit too thin--but she has  a  voice  that
could launch a thousand ships.  Or whatever sort of playthings the
top brass are using nowadays.  "I'd like to see you."
     "I'm free Friday after about five.  S'that okay with you?"  I
fumbled  for  the iced tea in the refrigerator as I  balanced  the
cordless phone against my shoulder with the side of my  head.   It
hissed  as  I  closed  the refrigerator door  and  turned  to  the
counter.
     "Sounds good.  Pick me up about seven?"
     "Sure thing,  babe.  Oh, and I got my reflexology certificate
for massage today.   I think I'll have it framed.   It's got  that
fresh-from-the-computer-printer look."
     "Sounds  great.   You want to try out your new  skills?"  she
said breathily.   Wow.   You ever have one of those  conversations
when  you'd  just  get an erection from talking  sweet  with  your
lover?  Well, it didn't matter WHAT we talked about, her voice did
that to my poor hormones ALL THE TIME.
     "I'll  surprise  you.   Love you."  I  paused,  remembered  I
forgot the ice.   Could have melted it in my hands anyway at  this
point.
     "I love you too.  See you Friday night."
     "Be there with bells on."  I turned toward the fridge and the
phone spat angrily at my ear.
     "That makes for an interesting mental picture," she said;  we
lauged and hung up.  We almost always end short conversations with
those lines; it's just something that clicks.
     I put the ice cubes in the half-full glass of tea and  filled
the rest of it up.   I took a sip,  traced over the "Ball" etching
on  the side with my middle finger,  and mulled over my plans  for
Friday.

     I  got to her house at a few minutes before seven  (I  always
liked  to  chat with her folks for a while as she  finished  doing
whatever  it is she did before going out--it keeps 'em  guessing).
Kari  got downstairs at about a quarter after,  gave  her  parents
quick goodbyes and hugs, and we pulled out of the driveway.
     After  seeing  some  really poor mystery  movie  with  Arnold
Schwarzenegger,  and Pee Wee Herman,  we ended up going back to my
house.  My parents had taken one of their infamous weekend boating
trips with my brother and sister; that put them out of the picture
for the time being.   We stepped in, and after closing and locking
the front door behind us,  I took Kari's jacket and hung it on the
rack  in  the  corner.   I think this was the  point  at  which  I
realized that Kari was serious about this massage thing, since she
had  no bra on under the clingy tank top she had  on.   She  NEVER
goes without a bra unless she means for something to happen.
     She turned around,  noticed what I had noticed,  and  lowered
her eyelids seductively.   From between slightly parted lips,  she
intoned huskily,  "Now, how about that massage?  I've been waiting
forever  for  you  to finish those classes."  I smiled  a  bit  in
return, and slipping an arm around her waist and cradling her chin
in  the  crook  of my other hand,  planted  angel  kisses  on  her
forehead, her nose, her lower lip.
     I led her to the couch in the living room.   Without saying a
word,  she  pulled off the tank top,  her round nipples  hard  and
jutting from small,  firm breasts.   She shed her boots and pants,
and then spent a long and,  I must say, greatly appreciated moment
removing  her panties.   I knew,  though,  that if I  remained  in
control,  this  would be quite a memorable experience for both  of
us.   She lay down on her back in the soft upholstery of the couch
and  sighed,  "Do my feet-- I LOVE foot massage."  She lifted  her
right leg in invitation.
     Sitting down on the couch by her legs and putting them in  my
lap,  I  began.   Here  is  where all  those  tedious  reflexology
classes,  taken  with  women  going through  mid-life  crises  and
looking for some way to unwind,  paid off.   Starting off slow,  I
traced  the curves of her foot,  as she lay contentedly back  with
her hands over her head, baring herself to my ravenous gaze.  When
I finally got some unmistakable body signals from Kari,  I decided
to turn up the heat a little.  I knew where to hit the crossnerves
that triggered in her breasts and thighs,  and over the course  of
about five minutes,  she began to sigh and moan,  licking her lips
sensuously.
     After about ten more minutes,  I moved to her left  foot.   I
had hardly gotten past the sole of that dainty extremity when  she
sat up,  grasped my neck,  and dragged me down to the  warm,  soft
repose of her bosom.   "Take me," she groaned  ecstatically.   Who
was I to argue?   I moved my hand up her side,  lightly feathering
my touch up her calf and hip,  fluttering to her breast.   I  took
the  nipple in my mouth,  cradled it between my teeth and  tongue,
and  then sucked it with my lips.   She cried out  softly,  and  I
gazed  quickly at her to make sure I hadn't been leaning too  hard
against  the  leg  in my lap.   (We were still at  that  stage  of
experience  where  things  like  that  happened,   and  I  had  no
intention  of  ruining this situation.)  I saw a look  of  nothing
but  unbridled  bliss on her face.   This only served to  send  my
penis  to an almost unbearable hardness;  but I was determined  to
wait it out.
     I  moved  to the other nipple,  and her hands moved  down  my
back.  "Take off your clothes, darling," she cooed, and I complied
readily.  Moving back to her side, I kissed her firmly.  She began
to pant as I circled her ear with my lips, moving down her neck to
the crook of her collarbone,  where I ran my tongue across to  her
shoulder.  My hand moved, seemingly of its own accord, between her
legs  and over her curly pubic hair,  cupping her  swelling  mons,
massaging  her tenderness.   I traced a little trail with my  lips
down  to her erect nipple,  and she stifled another cry  with  her
hand  as I circled down to her navel.   She tried to move my  head
between  her legs to her eager sex,  but I gently took  her  hand,
kissed  the palm,  and began running my tongue down the inside  of
her  thigh toward her calf.   I finished my circuit of her leg  by
planting  kisses on her toes and sole,  and she gasped as I  moved
quickly up her thigh again, this time going for the one.
     I licked my lips.   She made no effort this time to cover her
scream  of pleasure with her hand as I kissed her moist  clitoris,
bringing it up into my mouth with deliberate slowness.   I sent my
tongue probing deep within her,  ever so slowly, trying to balance
my  member's  urgence against my desire to tease.   I  pushed  and
prodded,  probed  and  punished for what seemed  to  be  eternity,
breathing her need,  enveloped in her lust,  as her breath hitched
and loped like a crazed runner.   She begged me to enter her,  and
finally I acquiesced to our heated passion.
     I moved up against her,  and kissed her pert breasts,  and  I
noticed that I was starting to pant heavily.   She ran her  finger
over my lips and down my torso to my throbbing penis,  sighed as I
placed it against  her heated thighs.  I entered  her  again  with
carefully timed leisure,  and though she moved her hips up and  in
to meet me, I held back to stretch the entry time.  She cupped one
hand on my buttock and held the other to her head, crying out, "Oh
please,  I want you inside me."  Finally,  I had hilted  her,  and
drew back slightly faster.   I cycled this way,  slowly,  in,  out
with  almost torturingly slow motion,  until I could stand  it  no
longer.   I plunged into her greedy vagina with reckless and long-
denied  fire,  and she kneaded my buttocks,  looking into my  eyes
with smoldering wet embers; drew me down to drown in her lips.
     I  don't know exactly how long we moved against  each  other;
ultimately I slowed again,  and speeded up, trying to draw out the
impending climax (I believe at one point I had to resort to  going
through my grade-school multiplication tables in my head to  avoid
that  onrushing freight train of sensation).   She ran her  tongue
over  my earlobes,  begging me to fill her again and  again,  and,
unable  to  bear the grasp of her heated  passion  any  longer,  I
spilled deliciously over the brink of orgasm, inhaling the musk of
our union,  finding solace in our bodily connection.   We let that
secret part of ourselves fly free;  we intertwined in that moment,
and  it  seems  that the room could have been lit  solely  by  our
frenzied  emotion.   We collapsed together,  and I took her in  my
arms, whispering to her, "I love you so much."
     She echoed,  nibbling my ear, "I love you," and we simply lay
there for a while, silently contemplating each other's forms.  And
then we slept.

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            SPREAD-EAGLE

     You take my hand and lead me across the large, dimly-lit, unfamiliar
apartment into an even darker room.  I can barely distinguish the outlines
of a brass bed in the corner.  You push a switch and the room fills with
a soft, warm light.  We walk toward the bed.  I take off my over-sized black
T-shirt, and I am naked underneath except for the gold chain around my neck.
     You gently push me onto the bed, tie a silk scarf around my left
wrist, and tie the scarf to the bed-post.  You move over me on the bed and
tie up my right wrist.  You kiss me gently on the lips and stroke my hair for
a while.  Then you move down and tie my ankles to the two posts at the foot
of the bed.  I am filled with a strange mixture of feelings:  expectancy,
helplessness, tension, fear, and surging, overflowing desire.  I turn
my head toward the wall, close my eyes, and lightly bite my lower lip.
                             ***
     I tie your right ankle to a bed post. The silk scarf gently brushes
against your silky flesh. And I can feel uncontrollable desire rising
within me. I then tie your left ankle. I bend down and softly kiss your
foot. Inside the arch at first, then I let my tongue slide between your
toes. Back and forth.  You begin to strain against the scarves. A gasp. I
move upward along your leg, dropping kisses as I go along. It's an
interminable journey that ends up where your wonderful, smooth... But not
yet. I lick your clitoris once, ever so furtively.  And move on.
     Your breasts. Firm, perfect half-spheres. Your nipples. Very, very
hard. I gently kiss one, then the other. I lean on you, pin you down as
you lie naked, defenseless, spread-eagled. I suck on your nipple. You
turn toward me. Then toward the wall. Then back. A giggle. A sigh. A gasp.
I suck, lick, kiss, then ... lightly ... bite just once. You shriek. But
your wet lips and misty eyes tell me you want me, just as much as I want
you. I start licking you. Just one long, long lick. From your nipple ...
to your arm pit ... along your arm ... the palm of your hand (You're in
mine. I love it.) ... I suck your fingers one by one. You tug and strain.
The old brass bed won't let go. You smell of desire.
                       ***
     I am made of desire. It is as if everything else has disappeared.
I want you, I keep wanting more of you. I keep wanting more of everything
you do, but you move on. You leave me up there, on the edge of a scream.
I want to hold on to you, to guide your hands, your mouth, but I am helpless.
I strain against the scarves, and thrust my hips forward. You pin me back down.
I feel your finger between my labia, gently stroking while your mouth slides
up my belly. You kiss my breasts, and give my left nipple another gentle
bite. I want to scream but you won't let me do even that. You cover my mouth
with your lips. My scream becomes a long, helpless moan.
     I slide my tongue into your mouth, our tongues meet for a moment, then
you pull away from my lips. I beg you with my eyes. "Please don't," I whisper,
"please, I want to kiss you." But you won't listen. I close my eyes again.
Your finger is joined by your thumb. You stroke my vulva rhythmically, giving
my clit an occasional gentle squeeze.  I begin to move my hips to your
rhythm... I am ready to explode.  Then, suddenly, you are gone. I open my
eyes and search for you among the shadows.  You are leaning against the
farther wall, your arms crossed, watching me with a not-so-gentle smile
on your lips. I writhe madly. I can't bear the helplessness anymore. I
beg you with all my might to come back to me. But to no avail.
                       ***
     I leave you to your misery and go to the kitchen. I come back with an
ice cube and show it to you. You start writhing with anticipation. You beg me
not to. I hold the ice cube with the tip of my fingers, just above your
smooth, velvety pussy. As it melts slowly, I watch a drop form underneath,
then fall. You gasp. It runs down your lips and disappears among your
luscious folds. What I would give to be a drop of water now. Another one
forms, hesitates a while, then takes a plunge. I move the ice cube around,
taking special notice of your most sensitive spots. Then I lower it and
touch your mons. I play with you a while, then glide it up, into your belly
button and out again. You shriek and squirm. I move the ice around your
nipples. You try to move, but you cannot. I put the ice in my mouth, then
take it out and start eating you. Cold. Wet. I love eating you. I love it.
      I slide up towards you and without warning enter you. Ohhhhh. I bend
down and start licking your nipples, playfully torturing them as I thrust
in and out. First slowly, deeply, as you like it best. Then I speed up. You
start wriggling madly. "Stop!" you gasp, "you are driving me crazy!" I
slow down, but in my own time. I kiss your smooth arm pits, kiss your neck,
suck on your ear lobes, tongue your ears. I pass my fingers through your
hair, grab your head and start smothering you with kisses. As I thrust
deeper, you start moaning. I can see your hands straining against the scarves,
you are slowly tensing up. But I do not want you to come yet. I stop, smile
at you -- no, no, a very gentle smile this time, loving, adoring, but
playful -- and slowly pull out. You loose control and scream for me to stay.
Too late... I'm out.
                             ***
     I beg you in every language I know to let me come. "No," you
say. "I'm afraid that is not possible right now. But you are allowed to
make another wish and who knows, it might be granted." How can I wish for
anything else when I am so consumed with the need to end this torture!?
But then I realize that there are two needs, not one. I need to come, but
independently, I want you close, I want to feel you inside me. "O.K.," I
say. "Let me eat you, then."
     You look into my eyes, searchingly, for a moment; then you nod. I'm
happy, but I wish I had my hands free to play with myself while I eat
you.  I know it is out of the question, so I don't even ask you to untie
my hands (At least one? No, I don't think so). You kneel over my head
and pass your feet under my outstretched arms.  Then you lower yourself
over my face and slide your cock into my mouth. This is a brand new
sensation for me; I am so used to being in control while I eat you...
Now I can't even move -- I am totally at your mercy. I feel more
helpless and vulnerable than I have ever felt before. You slightly lift
my head with one hand while holding on to the bed-post with the other
and move slowly at first. I feel your hardness inside my mouth...  I
can smell you... it drives me mad! I squirm helplessly for a while,
then my hips fall into rhythm with your slow thrusting. But I need more
-- I need to be touched, to be helped... I moan. I open my eyes for a
moment and look up at you. What I see turns me on even more than I
already was (I had thought that was impossible). I would give anything
to be allowed to come right now. Suddenly, your rhythm changes.  You
begin to move faster, to thrust deeper into my mouth.
                     ***
     I hold your head and slide in and out of your mouth. I peek at
your outstretched body. Very, very naked. Very, very taut. Your wrists
fastened to the bedposts, your hands in helpless fists. Your ankles tied
to the bedposts, stretching the scarves. Your hips imperceptibly arching,
heaving, your bare pussy swollen and beckoning. I catch you looking at
me. This will not do. I reach for another scarf and gently blindfold you.
You want to protest, but with me in your mouth, you can only moan. I
continue to thrust in and out. Your tongue... your tongue... How do you
do that..? I am losing control. Shall I come? Not yet. I slow down. You
want to keep moving, but I don't let you.
     The time is approaching. I slide out of you and move back, all the
way to the edge of the bed. I stare at you. Your mouth half open, wet,
glistening. Your chest heaving up and down. Your hips trying so desperately
to move... and so unsuccessfully. I caress your legs, brush against your
pussy (you are so wet!), cup your breasts (they are so hard!). You moan.
The time is here. I love you. I want you. Now.
                     ***
     I squirm and writhe desperately while I try to figure out what is to
happen to me next You have moved away, I can't see you. I cannot take this
anymore.  I want you inside me. Now. You pull off my blindfold. You are on
top of me once again. Our lips meet. I have an uncontrollable urge to wrap
myself around you...my arms around your neck, my legs around your waist...
But I can't. I writhe and press my pelvis against you, instead. You slide
inside me in one smooth easy thrust. For a moment, I feel myself forced
open...you are so hard and so thick... We continue to kiss passionately as
you thrust inside me. Your rhythm quickens. I feel a wet warmth start up
around my pelvis and slowly envelope my whole body. I feel like a stretched
bow, ready to snap. You raise yourself on your hands, thrusting deeper and
harder.  I can feel the tension building up inside you, your eyes closed,
your head thrown back.
     A scream escapes my mouth with the first convulsion, and is muffled as
you gently press your hand over my mouth. I hang there for a few seconds,
in sheer torment, unable to move as my instincts urge me to, and then the
rest of the orgasm comes, so violently that I can feel tears running down
my eyes. You tense up, let out a long moan as you come. I respond to every
move you make inside me with yet another convulsion. How long does it take?
I really don't know but by the end, I am almost unconscious. You lower your
body over mine, breathless. We stay like that for a while, again, I have no
idea how long.  Then, you get up and untie me. As I curl up in your arms,
in a swoon, I am already more than half way into planning my revenge.

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End of "Electronic Erotica", volume 1, number 4.
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[]
   Daryl VanHorne, editor, "Electronic Erotica" (eEros)
      SUBMISSIONS TO: [e-mail]
                  OR: {any backbone}!bungia!midgard!dbnv!eeros
       ALL FLAMES TO: /dev/null