Oh no! You've downloaded SPAM from the world of MIKE HUNT!!!
I've been fighting with my publisher (that's also me!) about my insistence that I begin including SPAM in my stories to help defray the ever increasing cost of my medical care. You should see my dick! Last week I thought I'd rubbed it raw and I rushed to the ER. I'm OK, it's just a rash. But now come the bills. Hell, I coulda bought a Lexus.
I finally gave in and compromised with myself to include one piece of SPAM with this story only. It won't happen again. Unless, of course, I insist.
The Almost All True Adventures of MIKE HUNT are now available by e-mail!
**** At last you can get the entire future MIKE HUNT series delivered direct to your box, uh, poor choice of words, simply by replying to the e-mail address below.
Are you tired of silly story postings that go something like: "I first saw her at the vegetable counter. Then she grabbed my cock. Then I fucked her. Then she blew 20 guys in the back."?
Would you prefer stories that describe the delicious feeling of a dick sliding gently into a woman's wet and waiting pussy, about cum shots that hit the bullseye in the back of the throat, about hand-jobs among barely legal teens? If so, order 'The Almost All True Adventures of MIKE HUNT' today!
DO NOT SEND your credit card number. DO NOT SEND a check.
Simply take a $10 bill and slip it in the little slot on the front of your computer, then e-mail me at MiffedOne@aol.com and I will send my newly patented electronic smut merchant down the wires to pick it up. You will get the entire collection of future MIKE HUNT stories by return e-mail.
Include this note: "YES! I'm over 18! I want to get MIKE HUNT!" Uh, don't say it out loud at the mall. And don't be a dick. Order today.
*Offer void in Iowa and other locations where assholes run the government.
*Utah residents please add sales tax.
(And HURRY! There's a story coming out about a girl who meets me in a grocery store and then blows 34 guys behind the meat counter! It's very realistic!).
I am so sorry. I'll fight with that guy to stop this shit. He's a jerkoff anyway. No I'm not! Yes I am! Shut up! OK.
By the way, if you're not legal age, cease reading immediately. You just know there had to be a disclaimer here. There always is.
## DISCLAIMER ## Go away. Everybody. Stop. Please. I'm begging.
OK, then fuck you. You get what you deserve.
Note to the courts: This educational treatise explores certain sexual activities for the purpose of understanding the motivations that cause some people to act in these ways. Perhaps it will lead to therapies or other remedies to modify these upsetting behaviors. It is not intended to be titillating, though unfortunately some people may find it so.
June and I had been married for 7 or 8 years, and frankly, the sexual spark wasn't the same. Of course we tried to do things to rekindle the original flame and often had a good time at it. But on a day in day out basis the thrill just wasn't like our first years together.
We decided to take another honeymoon weekend to Denver; one of the airlines had a cheap fare and I could cash in some hotel coupons. I blew off work early on Friday; we flew into DIA at about 3PM.
We went into our room. It was gorgeous, just perfect for a honeymoon suite. There was a big bouncy bed in the middle of the chamber and a huge bathroom which included a jacuzzi. Four nozzles would squirt the water in every direction. I knew June would like that. The huge tub was surrounded by white striated marble tiles, each at least two feet square. Nice.
We went out and had a lovely dinner, jet-fresh lobster ($27.50 each!) and a Coors, not my usual brand but what the hell, we were in Colorado. Even the water tastes better out there! On top of that, I paid the guy at the piano to play some of June's favorite tunes while we ate. It helped distract me from the sports blaring on a nearby TV. All in all it was a sweet evening. We went back to the room and I called room service to order a six pack. It's just one of those things you do when you're in the mood.
I flipped on the TV, but after a few minutes shut it off. That wasn't why we were here! There was a knock on the door and a bellman called out "Room Service." It was the fastest I'd ever had. I opened the door and he came in and set down the tray. The bottles had already been extracted from their cardboard housing and were sitting in a dish filled with crushed ice. There were two glasses. The bellman took my $3 tip as he left. I twisted the top off two of the bottles and poured out the amber fluid; each one exactly filled one glass. I got a little pissed when I realized there had already been another $3 "Service Charge" added to the bill, but what the hell.
"OK, lover boy, now what?" she said.
"I have an idea," I replied. How about we play 'slaves'," I answered.
She cocked her head up to look at me. "What's that?" she asked.
"We'll keep it simple. I'll do anything you want for an hour, and then you do anything I want for an hour."
"Anything?" she questioned.
"Anything." I answered.
She thought for a moment. I could see the wheels turning. "Fine," she said. "I want you to eat me for a half-hour. I'll tell you the rest later."
"Well, gosh, if I have to." I walked over to her and started fumbling with her skirt. It took only a moment to unbutton the side button and lower the zipper. The skirt fell to the floor, and she stepped out of it. I knelt in front of her and put my hands on the sides of her panties. I pulled them down, kissing her hip as the cloth revealed her skin. Down they flew, past her knees to her ankles. She stepped out of them. I could smell June's pussy. I could have identified it a mile away.
She stumbled back and sat down on the bed. By chance she had backed up into one of the corners of the mattress, and as she lay down, her legs naturally spread apart, one on each side of the corner.
I knew what I had to do and I knelt to the task. My head moved up between her thighs, and I drank in the aroma of her cunt. When she wanted it, her smell was overpowering. She wanted it.
My mouth found her clitoris, and I began to nibble at it. I extended my tongue and licked it. The small fleshy tip popped up as her blood began to flow to her crotch. Her cunt lips became puffy against my chin, and I returned my attention to her clit. I licked her. I began to write the letters of the alphabet with my tongue against the tiny skin flap that gave her such pleasure. My tongue bounced every direction as I traced "ABCD, EFG." I thought of each letter as I performed it. "HIJK, LMNOP." I came up for air. "QRS and TUV. W and XYZ." Whew! "Now I've done my ABC's... think I'll do 'em all over again!" It doesn't rhyme. I know.
I repeated the alphabet and added numerals and punctuation symbols. She really liked the question mark! I moved down and stuck my tongue into her opening. June sighed aloud. She always makes a lot of noise; I love that. I wiggled as deeply into her as I could. My face was getting wet with her juices, my tongue was getting tired.
"Mind if I have a swig?" I asked.
"No, fine. Just make it quick. And hand me mine." I did.
We both gulped down a few swallows, and I returned to my kneeling position. A quick glance at the alarm clock told me less than 10 minutes had elapsed. I had a long way to go.
I returned my mouth to her pussy, sucking softly on her fleshy cunt lips. I stroked her mons veris and combed her pubic hair with my fingers as I did so. I lapped at her slit, wiggling my tongue first up and down, then side to side. And I stuck it down deeply into her snatch as she lay on her back.
After nearly a quarter hour I could tell she was holding off rather than letting herself explode. It usually doesn't take more than 10 or 15 minutes for her to cum, but I guessed she was enjoying the ride and wanted to extend it. I couldn't blame her for stalling.
Twenty minutes went by. My jaw was aching, my neck was cricked, my tongue worn out. Now 25 minutes passed and she still lay there, "oooh-ing and aaah-ing." Finally I could tell she was finally about to cum. Whew! At last! Her pussy warmed up, I felt the flush of new blood rushing to her cunt, her pelvis began bouncing more violently, and then she exploded. "Owooo," she exclaimed. "Oooo." Then "Ooo." My face was a sloppy mess with her wetness, and as she bucked and heaved I tried to keep my lips fastened on her clit. I wasn't totally successful, but I guess I did a good enough job because her orgasm kept going longer than usual.
At last she was done. She was inhaling deeply, her heavy breathing a reminder of her pleasure just moments before. And as she lay on her back I said "OK, boss. You have a half-hour left. Now what?" I couldn't imagine what she would want now.
"I'll just put it in the bank, and ask for it later," she replied.
"Hey wait," I said. "That's not part of the deal. I mean, that's not how it works."
"Of course it does," she said. "You said I could do anything I want with my hour. Well, I want to break it into two half-hours. And that's that."
I mean, who wanted to start a fight over this? Anyway, I was anxious to get my own session started, so what the hell.
I poured another couple of beers, and we sat on the edge of the bed while she recovered. We sipped at the golden bubbles for several minutes, then I said "OK, my turn."
.... There is more of this story ...