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Article 14021 of alt.sex.bondage:
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From: [e-mail] (G. Hurtault)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.bondage
Subject: STORY Repost: Karen Eliot's Excellent Adventures
Message-ID: <[e-mail]>
Date: 10 Sep 91 17:51:49 GMT
Distribution: alt
Organization: University of Toronto Computing Services
Lines: 357


  The person who wrote this is listed at the end of the story!!!!!!

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              Karen Eliot's Excellent Adventures #1

                      By Jim and Meg Norris



     This document may be reproduced without permission,  provided
     it is not modified in any fashion whatsoever, and provided it
     is not delivered for any price or charge.



     The shiny red Integra glided through the late morning weekday
traffic on the Balboa Peninsula. The cool sea air blowing through
the sunroof and windows left Karen Eliot's flaming red hair
trailing in the sportster's slipstream. A rock'n'roll CD blasted
from her stereo. Tapping the tunes with her fingers on the
steering wheel she smoothly approached her beach house. The music
and engine died at the same instant. Karen reveled in the salty
sea air and the calls of the gulls as she strolled across the
carport. She never regretted her decision to live at the beach.
     Karen pulled her black halter top over her head and dropped
it next to the mail on the counter. The light nipples on her pert
breasts began to harden. She reviewed the letters that she'd just
collected from her mail drop as she stepped out of her shorts and
panties. She sniffed the g-string before dropping it the nearby
pile of clothes. She was wet. Settling on the bar stool she
reached for the stash. Karen rolled herself a slender doobie as
she listened to the messages on her phone machine. Lighting the
fragrant Thai weed, she opened the long awaited answer to a zine
ad. She examined the brochure which broadly sketched what she
expected. Yes, NQA did indeed mean No Questions Asked. "High
sexual adventure" was just as suggested in the advertisement. She,
as a player, wouldn't have any clues in advance to identify her
partner. The expert-system tailored encounter was absolutely
guaranteed to satisfy her desires. She had in fact wagered a large
chunk of cash based on two personal references. The arbitration
arrangements were excellent. Details would arrive by mail soon.
Karen absently licked two finger tips and rolled them lightly over
her moist clit. She lightly pinched her nipple with her long
finger nails. At this point Emma, her feline confidante and a
sister believer in the rightness of pussy worship entered and took
front row center seat for the unfolding show. Karen kept her
movements slow and her touch light. Sometimes a finger or two
would stray and disappear for a time beyond her downy trimmed
patch only to come back with more nectar to lovingly caress her
swollen clit. An electric feeling ran through her body, connecting
her erogenous flesh. Her hips bucked and rolled as she got herself
off. Slowly her low moaning and gyrations ceased. Opening her eyes
Karen found Emma still in rapt astonishment. With a soft laugh,
Karen said, "Think what you will, Emma, but it sure beats a
sandpaper tongue on the ass, which you seem to favor."
     As she adjusted the water in the shower she knew she'd be
watching the mail.


     Five days later Karen was adjusting the shower again, but
this time it was in preparation for her first Adventure meet.
Stepping into the shower and letting the hot water stream down her
contours Karen reviewed the instructions. It didn't take very
long. All the note had mentioned was Cool Dave's Steak House along
with the address, date and time. Karen soaped her breasts and
envisioned Cool Dave as perhaps an irresponsible surfer type whose
wealthy parents had set him up in the food business when law,
banking and corporate sharking proved beyond him. As she  finished
soaping her long legs, she turned her attention to her pussy,
giving it a gentle scrubbing in anticipation of wild frolic; a
flight of mind and body to dizzying heights and depths, not the
brief and mediocre in-and-out that too many of her partners had
let pass for a "great lay". Realizing that she had started to
stroke herself, Karen ran the other hand down the cleft of her ass
cheeks and continued until she was definitely aroused. Abruptly
she switched the water to cold to finish her shower. It always
made her skin feel alive and her mind wide awake no matter what
her previous condition had been.
     She had chosen a light peach knit dress that hugged her body.
The fabric conformed to shape of her upturned tits, flat tummy,
and graceful hips. Toweling herself dry Karen then powdered
herself before the mirror, assessing her body. She had a light
dusting of freckles. Her slender feet with high arches ended in
perfectly painted toes. Her legs were firm and taut, sculpted by
years of participation in a variety of sports. Gentle swell of
hips and ass. Smooth tummy. And those tits; even she thought that
she had a nice set. They required no upward coaching and were
crowned by sweetly protruding nipples that were more accurate than
a mood ring. The bright green eyes were the most outstanding
feature of her face. Naturally thick lashes and flawless skin had
saved much hassle with cosmetics over the years. The angular lines
of her face along with her bearing often reflected a serene
confidence. Satisfied, she slipped the dress over her head.
     Pulling up to a standard wood and glass restaurant of the
California style Karen noted a near empty parking lot, it was only
six thirty and Karen was happy to get eating out of the way to
make more time for the project at hand. Guided to her booth Karen
was a bit taken back to see no one there. Ordering white wine she
sat back to wait and scan the faces.
     Caleb, her waiter, suspected the redhead at the reserved
table right away. You just got a feel for them after awhile. He
read about this sort of stuff in magazines. Too bad sugar daddy is
late. Five minutes and I start bugging her to order.
     Karen glanced at the menu and hoped to any deity listening
that the waiter glowering in her direction was not Mister
Superfuck.It was then she felt the first feather like touch begin
to go up the inside of her thigh. She shifted slightly to
accommodate her unseen admirer who exhaled warmly on her downy
thatch. The fingers still playing almost randomly over her legs
were so light and gentle that except for their size she might have
thought there was a woman hidden under the table cloth. Also the
mouth that was becoming bolder had a mustache.
     Show time, Miss Scarlett, sneered Caleb's manly inner voice.
Arranging his face to appear suitably disdainful he strode to her
table. She had enough on the ball to go ahead and order a crab
salad he noted, but he knew the pressure was getting to her. Her
voice was a tad breathy and there was a fine sheen of perspiration
on her upper lip.
     Between a tongue that tantalized her clit and fingers that
had now picked higher ground to give their delightful attention,
Karen had a better idea why she was in the corner booth. She let
herself enjoy and savor the relative privacy. With the waiter gone
she was able to lift her hips enough to have her ass tenderly
cupped and kneaded. She eased one silky thigh on his shoulder and
could feel the roughness of his cheek on her. Remaining silent and
still required determination. Her lover eased away from her pussy
as the intensity of her orgasmic peaks approached overload.
Karen's orgasm faded. She relaxed as expert hands softly toweled
her crotch.  With a final kiss against her swollen mound, her
lover eased into the seat next to her. "I'm Brian", he said.
"Please follow me." He dropped a Franklin on the table as they
walked to the manager's office.
     Caleb had arrived with her crab salad. What a waste. The babe
was gone. He picked up the $100 bill and resolved to keep the
entirety. He returned the salad and destroyed the check.
     Brian assured Karen that Cool Dave was essentially out for
the duration. Or at least until the Brady Bunch special was over.
Dave's office was appointed with furniture which apparently hadn't
seen much use. Brian's intentions were clear as he stripped. Karen
felt herself responding to the enormous organ which he revealed by
shucking his jeans. Brian grinned at Karen as his penis grew with
every beat of his heart. Karen barely believed that the beautiful,
well muscled surfer with the gigantic dong was hers. With a grin
of her own, she pulled the dress over her head and shook her wild
curls. As they met in a warm embrace their tongues intertwined in
a deep kiss. They slowly explored each others hot mouths. With a
touch Karen led Brian to the sofa and had him lie down. She
planted her knees on the cushions next to his head. As she
prepared to concentrate on his manhood, she slid back on the sofa
and again presented her twat and ass to the accomplished muff
diver. Karen grasped Brian's thick slab of man meat with one hand
and cupped his hairy balls with the other. She licked the length
of his shaft until it was glistening with her saliva. She released
his balls and began stroking his pole. Brian gently licked and
nipped at Karen's pussy lips as her tongue ringed the purple head
of his throbbing dick. Karen reluctantly released Brian's rock
hard tool. She agiley positioned herself above him. Brian massaged
Karen's tits as she grasped his member. With one hand she spread
her labia and with the other she stroked the entrance of her
vagina with his dick head. Brian felt Karen's tight, hot cunt
engulfing his veiny girth. Karen established her pace to the time
of Brian's bucking hips. She'd never felt more stuffed than when
their crotches slammed together. Karen couldn't help her moans of
pleasure as they fucked faster and faster. Karen rocketed to
orgasm and slowly subsided on Brian's chest, where they gently
hugged. After a moment Karen arose and motioned Brian up. She took
his place on the sofa and said, "You drive". Karen raised her legs
to Brian's shoulders and Brian guided his cock into her invitingly
raised pussy. He grasped her ankles and thrust in and out with
briskly controlled strokes. Hard in, easy out, long, and short,
controlled by Karen's breathing and movements. Her pleasure
building beyond control, Karen came again and again.  Brian assumed
a position on all fours above Karen. They kissed deeply and with
great affection. He then extracted his rigid member and stood,
admiring, over Karen. She also rose and they warmly embraced.
"One more time, stud", Karen said. While holding his shoulders,
she jumped up and wrapped her supple legs around his waist. Brian
reached under Karen's legs and clutched her buttocks. As he lifted
her up his dick trailed the juices of their love down Karen's tummy.
He lowered her drenched snatch onto his shaft. Brian raised and
lowered Karen with his powerful arms. Karen's head was rolled back
as she moaned with delight. Brian's explosion was building.
They intensified their screwing until they came together.She could
feel his semen pulsing deep into her cunt. Her vaginal sphincter
spasmed on the root of his cock. They exploded in ecstasy together.
After a brief hug, they disentangled. Brian's semen ran from
Karen's snatch and down her thigh as she licked his love muscle clean.
He returned the favor by slurping the fluids from her pussy and thigh.
Brian produced a fluffy towel which they both used to contain the
wayward ejecta.
     Brian pulled out his stash as Karen relaxed. He cut two fine
lines of Peruvian blue flake and separated them on the small
mirror. He handed the mirror and a narrow tube to Karen. With a
delicate sniff she inhaled a line of the fine cocaine. She leaned
back in the growing euphoria. Brian snorted the other line and
secured the stash. They sat on the floor enjoying each other's
presence, warmly embraced in the glow of fucking and the coke. As
one, they arose, dressed, and slipped unnoticed from Cool Dave's
office and restaurant.
     Brian had already gotten a room at a nearby hotel and the
quality and variety of his sexual prowess had truly been
memorable. Karen had made another appointment for as soon as
possible on the strength of it. Now she pulled her car into the
convenience store parking lot because she was still early for her
meet at the hot tubs next door. Oh well, Emma was running low on
chow so she would pick up a few cans to avoid the accusing looks
that Emma meted out when disturbed by dietary restrictions.

     Ken glanced about with the practiced economy of a predator.
If something didn't happen soon, he was going to have to move on.
Avoiding ambush and capture had honed his sense for such things.
The lone clerk in the 7-11 had noticed him an hour or so ago. He
really didn't need the pigs on him over some vagrancy bullshit. As
he turned the corner out of sight he again nervously checked his
weapon. The Glock 9mm that he'd taken off a pig after wasting him
still had a nearly full magazine. Well, less that one round for
the cunt he'd greased in Texas last week. It was lucky for him
that the pig ran combat loads; one shot, one kill. Or two. He'd
seen a newspaper that said the bitch was pregnant.
     The electric company crew was pulling out. Shit, the place
was flat empty. The approaching red sports car got his attention.
A very attractive redhead got out of the Integra. It was spooky
the way she'd laid that penetrating glance on him. Her bright
green eyes seemed to see everything and more. This was it. He was
taking this one.
     Karen noticed a man who seemed to be waiting for someone by
the convenience store. Was this the guy? He was kinda cute, if a
little on the hunkish side. She didn't feel any thrill of
recognition like last time, but she could feel the tingly warmth
and wetness between her legs.
     Anyway, the guy didn't establish contact. She walked past him
and into the store.
     She was grabbed upon leaving the store. So it is him, huh?
     He'd immobilized her with a vise-like grip at one elbow and a
crushing arm around her waist. She could hardly breathe. All he
said was, "Come with me!". He quickstepped her around the side of
the store and to the back. Ken opened the passenger door of his
Mark IV and Karen stepped in with growing anticipation.
     Ken carefully drove the short distance to the secret corner
of the park which he'd earlier selected. The behemothic automobile
glided to a stately halt in the empty parking lot. "You first",
Ken said motioning, "In the back".
     Ken immediately began hardening at the sight of Karen's bare
boobs jiggling beneath her cotton shirt. Nips up, too. Karen
presented her lithe hips and slimly contoured ass to Ken as she
wiggled past him on her way to the back seat. The delicate aroma
of pussy aroused him further. This babe's knockers were
magnificent. Ken followed Karen to the aft of his land yacht. He
immediately set to groping her. Karen removed her shirt and Ken
began eagerly mashing her melons and roughly pinching her nips.
Suddenly deciding what he wanted, Ken turned Karen facing away
from him and tugged her slacks and panties over her hips and ass.
As soon as Karen realized that his hardon wasn't rigid enough to
penetrate her, she turned and gracefully began licking and
manipulating his wand. Karen wondered if he might be anxious. In a
few short strokes of her slender fingers, he was ready. Karen
turned back around to present her fuck target. As Ken closed, she
reached between her legs and guided his cock into her cunt. He
immediately began an incessant rabbit-like pumping. This bitch
really had a great attitude. Karen was starting to get into the
rhythm of Ken's hammering. Her orgasmic waves were building to
explosion peaks, but with great moaning Ken pulled out of her just
before coming. In the style of the porn vids with which Ken was
exceedingly familiar, he spurted his load of jism on her ass and
back. Ken had absolutely no doubt that he'd just had by far the
most pleasurable experience of his warped existence. Karen
suggested taking the blanket outside where there was more room to
romp. Entranced, he followed. As they spread the blanket on the
grass, Karen extracted a hooter from her stash. Lighting it, she
offered it to her partner, "Would you like a toke, mac?", she
asked. "What's a tokamak?", Ken dimwittedly responded. "It's a
small doughnut-shaped nuclear reactor in which a plasma is heated
and confined by electric and magnetic fields", Karen said, "But
that's not important now. Would you like a hit of my joint?"
Absolutely unable to deny the ultrafox wonderbitch, he imbibed.
They passed the smoke back and forth. After moments of silence,
Karen spoke softly, "Look. Let's do it again. This time, follow my
lead, okay? You got a name, Tiger?". "Ken", he said. "That's
better. Lean back, please Ken", were the last words possible from
Karen as she took his limp hose into her mouth. As Ken hardened in
her mouth, Karen accommodated his growing cock in her throat. Her
licking and sucking was sufficient to obtain a highly erect
member. Karen threw a leg over Ken. Lying on him, she hugged
herself to him. Karen's hot breasts pressed into Ken's chest.
Karen could feel his engorged dong against her belly as she
clamped his hips with her legs. After a momentary hug she lifted
her chest and shook her tits in an exaggerated fashion, rolling
her head of beautiful flaming locks.
     Ken rose on his elbows and licked gently around Karen's erect
nipples. He'd shift between light sucking on her nipples or
kissing and massaging her breasts. Karen rolled her head as Ken
pleasured her. She raised her hips and grabbed Ken's manly meat.
She toyed with his dick head at the entrance of her cunt. Slowly
Karen lowered herself on Ken's pole. Her controlled strokes paced
their united climb to orgasm. Several times she kept him from
coming by grasping his balls. When Ken's approach to his climax
became undeniable, Karen rode his bucking meat all the harder.
With cries that couldn't be held back, they came together. Ken's
soft dick slid out of Karen's snatch as she rolled off him. Within
minutes, Ken was fast asleep.

     Unable to rouse Ken, Karen yielded to her intuition and began
a quick but detailed search of his personal effects. If this isn't
Mister Superfuck then who is he? Keys and a gun. No papers of any
kind. She was reasonably sure that he wasn't a narc, but fascist
gangsters are dime a dozen. She rolled the handgun in the lunch
bag and slid it under the seat.
     There weren't any tools or even a spare tire in the trunk.
What was all this weird cult religious stuff? Tracts, banners, and
books. She'd never heard of the Campus Crusade for Cthulhu. Since
The Esoteric Order of Dragon, a debased, quasi-pagan thing
imported from the East a century before, the peculiar mythos had
made few inroads on Sol III.
Karen dumped Ken's clothes within the cavernous trunk.
     Ken was snoring in the grass when Karen got back to him. She
covered him with the blanket, giving him a decidedly homeless
look. A complete stranger to the Hawaiian smoke, and in a pathetic
post-coital torpor, Ken was soon snoozin'n'loozin as Karen split
with his car.
     Karen eased Ken's Lincoln back into its original parking
space. Like before, the area was dead. She removed the semi-
automatic pistol from the brown bag under the seat. After checking
the safety she ejected the clip and jacked out the chambered
round. Karen took the gun and ammunition to the gutter. With a
metallic clatter she dropped the lot to the street. Swiftly, she
kicked everything into the storm drain. The car keys followed.
     Karen bought a can of WD-40 and a butane cigarette lighter
from the bored clerk at the grocery. When she got to Ken's car she
carefully sprayed every interior surface with the penetrating
lubricant. After making sure that she had all her things she
locked and closed the door. As she walked away from Ken's car,
Karen tapped the lighter into an exhaust pipe so as to lodge it in
the muffler. The WD-40 can joined the gun and keys in the storm
drain. With a frisky swing of her hips, Karen headed for her car
in the front parking lot of the mini mall.

     Upon returning home Karen was not very surprised to find a
message on her machine asking why she had not made her meet. Ken
had not been an earthshaking lover at all. She didn't much like
having to ditch a gun and wipe a car because of him either, but at
least everyone would walk away mostly unharmed. And she could
still look forward to her next encounter.


  DISCLAIMER: The secretary will disavow any knowledge of my actions in the
              event that I am caught or killed.

            Jim Norris      [e-mail]      [phone]

--
      -----    |                   Greg Hurtault
     /     \   |            [e-mail]
     | reg___  |
     \______/  |  Is that a wiggle or a struggle?" "Macho King" Randy Savage