Amiga ISO Collection/AmigaDemoCD2.iso/ASCII/TEXTE/SEX/ADULTSHARE/L/LYDIA-1.TXT

Text File | 1994-03-26 | 15.5 KB | 275 lines

@BEGIN_FILE_ID.DIZ
       "Lydia"

       Copyright
      by     Peter N. Glaskowsky
      9021 S. Normandale, #1144
      Ft. Worth, Texas  76116
       All rights reserved.
@END_FILE_ID.DIZ



            The first time I saw her, I have to admit I wasn't thinking
       about who she was. I was just admiring her curves. She was wearing
       jogging shorts and a tight T-shirt, and she really filled them
       out. Her fur was smooth and glossy, and seemed to glow in the
       bright afternoon sun. She looked strong. I like strong women.
            Then I noticed what she was doing. Anyone else, looking at
       her, would have thought she was just giving directions to an
       elderly Dalmation couple. They were holding up a map of the
       amusement park between them, and she was leaning over the map,
       giving the old guy a good view of her breasts, while she pointed
       at the map with one hand.
            From where I was standing, however, I could see between her
       and the guy's wife. I watched while she lifted the flap on the
       lady's purse and reached inside.
            I walked over quickly, grabbing her right shoulder with my
       left hand, and spun her around.
            "Lydia," I cried. "How great to see you again!"
            Her eyes lit up, and her muzzle opened in an enormous smile.
       "Jonathan! Where have you been keeping yourself? I haven't heard
       from you in months!"
            I turned to the oldsters. "Pardon me, we're old friends, I
       didn't mean to interrupt."
            They smiled, and made polite sounds, thanking Lydia for her
       help, and then walked off. I turned back to Lydia and gave her a
       big hug, talking quietly into her ear.
            "Don't look now, but there's a cop watching you. Keep
       smiling, maybe he'll go away."
            I could hear her smiling as she responded. "Where's the cop?"
            I spun her around. "See the Alsatian in the guayabera shirt
       and blue slacks?" She nodded. "He's been watching you for ten or
       fifteen minutes."
            "Thanks," she said. "Let's go." She grabbed my arm and we
       walked quickly away. She pulled me into an unused doorway, wrapped
       her arms around my lower back, and kissed me.
            "What was that for?" I asked. "Not that I mind," I added,
       grinning.
            "I just wanted to say 'thanks' again."
            "Well, you're welcome! But I can think of a better way to do
       it."
            She stood back and looked annoyed. "Listen, buster, just
       because you did me a favor doesn't mean I'm ready to go to bed
       with you."
            I laughed. "No, no, I was just going to suggest that you have
       lunch with me." She looked skeptical, so I put on my best innocent
       look, and said, "I'm hungry, okay?"
            She smiled, and relaxed. "Okay. Fair enough. Where?"
            "How about the Hyatt? There's a nice restaurant there with
       private booths."
            "I can't afford the Hyatt!"
            "That's okay. I'm buying," I said. "If, that is, you'll give
       me my wallet back."
            She looked sheepish, which is a silly way for a beautiful
       wolf lady to look. "I was just going to see who you were." Now it
       was my turn to look skeptical. "I was going to put it back.
       Honestly!"
            "Go ahead and look," I said, laughing again.
            She shrugged, and pulled my wallet back out of her purse,
       where she had stashed it while kissing me. She looked through it
       quickly, then handed it back. Nothing in there to see, really,
       just a driver's license, a few credit cards, and some cash. "Well,
       Mister Douglas Nichols, let's go have lunch."
            I held out my arm, and she took it, and we walked off. "Call
       me Doug. You have the advantage of me, by the way," I said.
       "What's your name?"
            "Call me Lydia," she said.
            "Oh, come on, do you want me to take your purse and find out
       for myself?"
            She looked over at me, and pinched my biceps. "You're big,
       but you're not big enough to do that."
            I reached into my left front pocket, and removed a thin
       billfold. I started thumbing through it. She looked down, and
       stopped suddenly, turning me around. "Give that back," she yelled,
       snatching at it.
            "Not 'til I find out your name," I said, holding it out of
       her reach. I continued flipping through the billfold, but there
       was no ID of any kind. Just pictures, a business card from a well-
       known lawyer, and a little cash.
            "Well, you won't find out from that," she said, obviously
       pleased with herself. Defeated, I handed it back. She put it away,
       looking at me speculatively. "Well, at least I know what you do
       for a living. When did you take it, anyway? I didn't notice a
       thing. You're pretty good."
            "Thanks. Same time you took mine. I knew you were
       distracted."
            "Hmm." She took my arm again, and we resumed walking.
            Lunch was uneventful. Conversation was light-- the weather,
       the rides in the park, things like that. A few times, to emphasize
       a point, she reached across the table to touch my hand. She was
       cheerful and charming, and after I paid the check, she fell silent
       for a moment, and then looked into my eyes, and asked, "Would you
       like to go to bed with me?"
            It seemed like such a natural question. I honestly hadn't
       thought about it more than fifty or sixty times, but I said "yes"
       without even hesitating.
            "Should we get a room?" she asked. "I don't have a place in
       town."
            "I'm staying here in the hotel."
            "Okay," she said, almost shyly. We got up and left the
       restaurant.
            I opened the door to my room, and held it open so she could
       enter first. As the door closed behind me, she turned, and put a
       hand alongside my jaw, and kissed me. "This isn't just a thank-
       you. I think you're nice."
            I put my hands on her hips, and began stroking her fur
       through her shorts. "I like you, too."
            She took a deep breath, then reached up, and pulled her T-
       shirt off. Her breasts were round and firm, nipples standing up in
       the bare pink patches of her aureola. I slid my hands up, rubbing
       first one pair, then the other. She gasped, and leaned forward
       against me, and began to unbutton my shirt. Reaching inside, she
       ran her hands through my chest fur, scratching lightly.
            It felt good, and I returned the favor, gently tracing lines
       down her back, feeling her arch in response. I nuzzled the side of
       her throat, licking the fur there.
            I put an arm across her shoulders, and turned her, leading
       her into the room to where I could see her better in the light
       filtering in through the drapes. I could feel her breathing
       quicken when she saw the bed, and she looked at me, and said,
       "Make love to me, now."
            She dropped a hand to my groin, squeezing my sheath between
       thumb and fingers, through the fabric. I felt myself responding,
       and I reached down to open my pants. As I kicked my shoes off and
       stepped out of my pants, she knelt before me, and started to lick
       my penis as it extended from its sheath. As it became fully erect,
       she stood again, sliding down her shorts, removing them along with
       her shoes. I slipped my shirt off my arms, and embraced her,
       pressing my hips against hers, rubbing my penis through the soft
       fur on her belly.
            We walked together to the bed. I eased her down onto it, and
       she turned, and reclined, pulling me down on top of her. I entered
       her at once. My penis began to swell, and I thrust firmly, locking
       myself deeply within her vagina.
            She cried out, and wrapped her legs around the small of my
       back, pulling me in. I felt her tail lashing back and forth
       between my legs, and I pushed mine down to meet it. She began
       moaning, squeezing my cock. I don't know what she did, but it felt
       absolutely incredible. I couldn't hold back. After only a few deep
       thrusts, I howled as we came together.
            Our climax seemed to last for hours, although it couldn't
       have been more than a minute or two. We continued to move against
       each other slowly until my erection subsided enough for me to
       withdraw. I rolled off her, and we lay side by side, looking at
       each other, panting heavily.
            Eventually I got up the strength to move again. I reached
       over and began to stroke her belly fur, hot and damp from our
       exertions. "Wow!" I said, smiling.
            She smiled back. "Thank you."
            We stayed like that for a while. She was looking at me
       closely, seemingly searching my face for something. "What is it?"
       I asked.
            "I was just wondering why you really helped me."
            "I couldn't just let that cop get you," I said.
            "That wasn't a cop," she replied. "That was Virgil Gibbs of
       Montgomery, Alabama. I lifted his wallet about ten minutes before
       you showed up."
            "Urrr..." I couldn't think of much to say. Bad luck.
            "So how about it?"
            "Uh, well, actually..."
            "Go on, spit it out."
            "Okay. I wanted to offer you a job."

            She stared at me for a moment, and then started laughing.
            "What's so funny?"
            "I... I..." She was having a hard time talking.
            "Go on, spit it out," I said, grinning.
            "I thought you were a cop!"
            Suddenly it wasn't funny anymore. "Huh? But why'd you..."
            She patted my chest. "Oh, I think you're nice. But you
       couldn't very well arrest me after this, could you?"
            I fell back on the bed and sighed heavily. "Oh, hell. And I
       was worried that you might not take the job because I'd slept with
       you."
            I thought about it for a moment, and then the whole thing
       struck me as funny, and I started to laugh. Pretty soon we were
       both rolling around on the bed, tears staining the fur on our
       cheeks. When she came within reach, I grabbed her, and pulled her
       against me. We held each other, still laughing, until the laughter
       faded. She stiffened, and I realized I was hard again.
            I looked into her eyes, only a few inches away, and asked the
       question without speaking. Without speaking, she agreed. I hugged
       her tightly, and then she rolled me on top of me, and wiggled, and
       I felt myself reentering her.
            As good as it had been the first time, it was better the
       second time around. We were both more aware of the act, thinking
       more about each other. It lasted a long, long time. She brought me
       close to the edge over and over, and I'm sure she came several
       times before our final climax. She fell asleep on my chest with my
       penis still firm inside her, and I followed her into sleep a few
       moments later.
            When I awoke, she wasn't in the bed anymore. I went from a
       crushing sense of loss to an almost unbearable feeling of joy when
       I heard that most mundane of sounds, the flushing of the toilet in
       the bathroom.
            She looked at me when she came out. "What's that silly grin
       for?"
            "Oh, nothing."
            "Well, get up, I'm hungry."
            I thought about it for a moment, and decided I was, too. I
       rolled out of bed, feeling my strength slowly returning as the
       motion restored my circulation.
            I noticed my belly fur was quite sticky, and grimaced. "I
       think I need a shower."
            "So do I," she said.
            So we took a shower, and in the course of things we found
       ourselves back on the bed, and it was over an hour before we
       finally made it to the hotel restaurant.
            "So what's this job?" she asked, while we waited for the
       waitress to come over.
            I looked one way, then the other, making a big deal out of
       it. "I think it's safe to talk here," I said, grinning. Then I got
       serious. "Would it bother you if I was a cop?"
            "But you said you weren't!"
            "No, I didn't."
            "Well, are you?" she said, impatiently.
            "Sort of. I work for the FBI, but I'm not really in law
       enforcement. And I was a pickpocket myself a long time ago."
            "What do you do, then?"
            "I'm in a special operations unit. I guess you'd say we're a
       sort of dirty-tricks squad."
            "Oh, like 'Mission: Impossible'," she deadpanned.
            "Well, it is, actually. What can I say? Sometimes that sort
       of thing is necessary."
            She paused, looking thoughtfully at me. "So why are you
       dragging me into this? Aren't you violating security?"
            "Lydia, you've already been checked out. Thoroughly."
            Again, a pause. "Lydia isn't my real name, you know." It was
       a statement, not a question.
            "I know."
            "You can call me Rosa."
            "Thanks," I said, smiling warmly. "But 'Lydia' will be
       better, I think. My name is really Ted, but please do call me
       'Doug'. I do think about security."
            "Okay."
            The waitress finally showed up and took our orders.
            "So, why me?" she asked.
            "Well... this gets a little complex, so bear with me. Do you
       remember about a month ago, when you were in Washington? You
       boosted a thick billfold from an elderly leopard? There was a
       diplomatic passport in there, right?"
            "Yes, I remember that!" she said. "I was a little scared
       because I don't normally mess with diplomats. Too much heat. But
       he wasn't dressed very well, some kind of overcoat, and I didn't
       know he was anyone until afterwards. And he had a lot of money,
       too, over five thousand bucks. That was when I decided to visit
       Florida. His name was Darra Mabra, wasn't it?"
            "Right. He grew up in this country, and he's ambitious. He
       was about to make a connection with one of his agents."
            "Espionage?"
            "No. Drugs. And strictly independent. He's trying to build a
       distribution network for some stuff he gets from back home. His
       government doesn't approve, but they don't want to call him back,
       and they can't let us move on him officially. So they've
       sanctioned some covert action. We can take him down as long as it
       looks like the regular cops just stumble on his operation."
            "So where do I come in?"
            "He remembers you. He was asking around. He thinks you work
       for the Families. He wants to see you again. And not for small
       talk, either."
            "Ugh. I can imagine. Well, you don't want to just give me to
       him, do you?"
            "No, not at all. Here's the deal..."
End of Part 1