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The I/O Port
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
THE I/O PORT
by
Bill Groff
(Copyright 1990 by Bill Groff)
Mick having departed the store earlier in the afternoon with the onset of
a tremendous muscle spasm of the loins, his unrequited yearning being to check
the oil in the new Canadian housekeeper he and Jean had recently hired, Jean
was left to her own wiles among the electronic whiz-bangs which cluttered the
aisles and shelves of their small computer store in a little out-of-the-way
tourist area in Virginia. As she tittered to-and-fro among the keyboards,
monitors, and CPUs; her manicured fingers sometimes toying with the supple
flesh hidden beneath the top button of her silk blouse, her mind pondered the
question of how she was going to entertain herself for the next few hours as
she waited for the time when she could shut the store down for the day. She
had just finished dusting off the keyboard of an AST 286 Premium in the back
of the store when the entry buzzer sounded, alerting her that someone had just
come through the front door.
Coming around the corner of the massive Smut Writer Desk Top Publishing
Software display at the front of the store, Jean's eyes, round beneath their
soft brows, captured the image of the customer who'd just walked through the
door. She felt a vague tingle electrify the nerve endings along her spine as
she surveyed the new customer while casually closing the distance between
them. His ebony, close cropped hair reminded her of a long forgotten boy-
friend who'd gone off to the military many years before. The sight of his
well trimmed beard jolted her momentarily, as her mind drew a quick picture of
the grey-flecked hairs brushing along the insides of her thighs. She scanned
the length of his six foot two, olive hued frame; his stature betraying his
self assurance. The long, slender fingers of his right hand rose to his face,
removing the tinted glasses which hid a pair of warm, chocolate-brown eyes
which captured and returned her glances. Jean stood mesmerized by the
strength in his eyes.
"Good afternoon, sir." She dropped her eyes with something like relief.
"Is there something I could do for you today?"
The tall man's eyes, lewdly amused, slid to Jean's face.
"Actually," he cleared his throat in a special, resonant way, "I was
looking for something in, shall we say, sensual software."
"Ahhh," Jean had to fight to keep her voice steady, "could you be a bit
more specific please?"
Clearing his throat, the tall stranger with the slight Texas accent
explained in broad terms what he was looking for. Although his words were
carefully chosen, his undertone of meaning was unmistakable. Jean felt a
familiar warmth overtaking her as she mentally admitted to herself what
software she'd like to show him.
"Could you excuse me for just one second?" Her intake of breath was
sharp and sudden.
Jean walked over to the front door of the store, her hand reaching for
the "CLOSED" sign facing inward on the window. She silently prayed that the
good looking stranger wasn't watching her as she flipped the plastic icon
which announced to the outside world that the store was no longer doing
business that day. Nonchalantly brushing her blouse with her hand, she
managed to undo the top button of the silky material before turning back to
the man who wanted the sensual software.
With a cheerful little wiggle of her shoulders, she bade the stranger to
follow her to the adult software area in the back of the store. For the next
forty-five minutes, she sat beside him in the pseudo bedroom display area as
he worked his way through the demo versions of Menage a'trois, Group Grope,
InterSex, Xavier Hollander's Night On The Town, and Oral Delite. Oral Delite
had always been one of her favorites, and the way she was starting to feel,
she silently wished that the olive complected stranger would divert his
attention from the image on the monitor to the glistening sight she wanted to
make available to him. For Jean, the gesture would be as natural as breath-
ing.
"I'm afraid," Jean's voice was a trifle petulant, "that's all I have in
what you're looking for."
"I'm not so sure!" His voice was deep, filled with insolent amusement as
he visually stripped her naked with the soft fingers of his brown-eyed stare.
"No." Her speech thickened slightly. "You're right. That's not all I
have that I can show you."
Jean stood up beside him, her hands reaching for the silk blouse covering
her torso, their trek halted at mid-point by the slender fingers of the
stranger's gentle, yet firm grip.
"Why don't I help you with that?" His voice was as gentle as moonbeams
on magnolia blossoms.
Jean silently surrendered herself to him as he rose from the plush
customer's chair in front of the computer, his right arm going around her
waist, his face closing on hers, his lips meshing with the ruby-tinted
softness of her own as the slender fingers of his left hand casually worked
their way up the buttons of her loose fitting blouse. The coolness of the
conditioned air taunted her nipples, entrapped behind the sheer fabric of her
thin bra, as the final clasp on the front of her blouse was unfastened.
Backing away from her slightly, his tongue daubing at the faint taste of her
lipstick, he brought both hands up to her shoulders.
The stranger's hands were skilled, his technique practiced, as he gently
slid the thin fabric from her shoulders, little shivers of anticipation
tantalizing her as the cool fabric was separated from her body and folded
across the back of the chair. Jean looked up into his face and noticed that,
in his lips, there was both sensuousness and refinement. She yearned for the
feel of his warm, velvety mouth all over her body.
"Is that bed along the far wall functional, or just another display
piece?"
"If it wasn't functional before now," Jean spoke huskily, "it damn soon
will be!"
His hands closed on the tender flesh of her sides as he gently guided her
across the room to the king-sized waterbed set along the far wall, the shimmer
of the satin comforter reflecting the warmth of the cafe lights hanging from
the ceiling. Mick had designed the little room as an inducement to get
customers looking for sensual software in the right mood for the purchase.
Now, Jean knew, the inducement had worked very well.
Coming up along side the bed, the stranger gently turned Jean until she
was facing him, her eyes marvelling at the radiance of the pearl buttons on
the front of his short-sleeved shirt. Turning her face up to him, her eyes
half closed as once again his soft, warm lips meshed with hers; his tongue
sliding into her mouth and toying with the flesh of her upper palate. Jean
licked at the underside of the oral snake slithering inside her mouth as the
stranger's hands painted eerie patterns along her naked sides.
With almost imperceptible precision, the stranger's dark, slender-
fingered hands moved to the front of Jean's torso, his fingers gently kneading
the firm flesh of her breasts through the thin fabric of her bra, his palms
strong, yet gentle, at the underside of her supple monuments to womanhood.
She felt an overpowering rush of warm blood flood her nipples as he gently
kneaded her tiny nodules to erection. He moved his thumbs to the little pink
bow covering the clasp on the front of her strapless bra, the gentle inward
pushing of his thumbs causing the clasp to unlatch.
Jean's thin brassiere opened to the cool air, the creamy white flesh of
her pert breasts two white mountains topped by the dark pink caps of her
nipples, the bra dropping to the floor behind her. Once more the stranger's
warm lips and silky tongue disengaged themselves from her mouth.
Jean was mesmerized by the rich depth of the two, brown pools staring
down into her face; their unspoken message filling her with tremendous
anticipation. She was, suddenly, like a four-year-old waiting for Christmas.
Her tall, soon-to-be lover had a wonderfully warm, cozy way of cradling
her with his arm as his face once again joined with hers; his mouth nibbling
at the smooth flesh of her cheek as his tongue blazed a slow trail to the
little pink lobe of her ear. Jean experienced a girlish tingly feeling as his
lips surrounded the little knob on her ear, his tongue manipulating it back
and forth between his moist lips. And then his lips were along her neck, his
gentle licking and sucking making her body feel as though ten thousand pygmies
were covering her with sharp, little darts. She moved her hands so that she could hold him by the hps, her grip vice-like as his mouth moved to the plain
of her upper torso.
The sensations registering in Jean's mind became unbearably exciting as
the stranger's mouth moved across the upper slope of her left breast, his
tongue licking a path for the two lips trailing close behind it. Jean
experienced a shattering satisfaction as the turgid bud of her left nipple was
gently suctioned into the stranger's mouth, his hand cupping her mammarian
flesh so that more than just her nipple was ingested between his lips. Her
head fell back atop her shoulders, her torso arching upward, the firmness of
her petite breast diving in after the nipple which had disappeared into the
stranger's questing mouth.
Releasing her left breast from his oral grip with the same gentleness
that he'd captured it, the stranger righted himself before her, his face
shining with pride, his expression ecstatically happy. His hands moved to her
hips with reassuring grace, his thumbs burying themselves in the little
pockets they created between the cotton fabric of her skirt and the warm flesh
of her hips. Again his lips briefly met hers before they began nibbling a
path across her chin, down the softness of her throat, over the firmness of
her breasts, and onto the plateau of her stomach; her navel providing another
cavern for his tongue to explore. Jean sighed with obvious pleasure as he
darted his slippery spelunker into the little cave in the middle of her
stomach; oblivious to the fact that he'd lowered himself to his knees in front
of her.
Jean felt a gentle tugging at her hips as the stranger's thumbs pulled
at the Spandex waistband of her cotton skirt, his hands gently lowering the
material, his thumbs capturing the elastic in her panty hose and silk under-
pants so that her lower abdomen would be totally denuded in one movement of
his hands. Jean stared down at the back of his head in silent joy as his
mouth and tongue followed the clothing being removed from the lower part of
her body, her mind uttering a silent prayer of gratitude as his mouth moved
down across her lower abdomen.
Her lover's lips gently tugged at the firm flesh of Jean's lower belly,
his tongue dancing along the fleshy expanse of silky flesh which had been
hidden by her skirt and underclothes. Her eyes positively sparkled in the
glow of the cafe lights hanging from the ceiling.
The sensual stranger's slavering tongue brushed through her waspy
underbrush, at the same instant the material previously covering her lower
body was puddled at her feet. Jean felt as though some unbearable burden had
been removed from deep inside her when his mouth payed homage to the sensi-
tized centurion standing guard at the upper folds of the gateway to her inner
castle. There was a look of unbridled exhilaration on her face as her hands
clasped the back of his head, her pelvis arching slightly forward, her nubile
love button pressing itself into the soft flesh of his lips.
Jean's body was alive with uncrushable enthusiasm, her womanhood filled
with an electric, contagious excitement. There was a great awakening of her
senses as the first of her lubricants dribbled into the forest protecting the
entrance to her inner palace. Although she reveled in the raving incoherence
of joy she was experiencing, she felt enormously relieved when her new lover withdrew his mouth fromthe coverlet between her thighs; his tongue engaging
in one last dialogue with the guardian to her hidden delights.
Wrapping his right arm around the supple flesh behind her knees, his
mouth and tongue once again exploring the little cul-de-sac in the middle of
her belly, his left hand toying with the rigid, dark pink nipple of her right
breast; Jean's temperate lover gently lowered her to a semi-reclined position
atop the silky smooth comforter on the water bed. A somber pleasure
brightened Jean's eyes when the stranger stood before her, his hands moving
toward the pearly snap-buttons on the front of his shirt.
Jean smiled with anticipatory delight as she watched the stranger's
slender fingers separating the little steel studs which held the front of his
shirt together. Her feint smile showed her inner satisfaction as the stranger
removed his shirt, her eyes drinking in the soft fur covering his upper torso
like an early morning, foggy mist; his dark chocolate areola providing a
clearing in the misty forest for the small nubs of his hard nipples. Jean
mentally pasted her mouth to his little chocolate disk, her tongue teasing his
tiny nipple. Knowing he was probably reading her thoughts, Jean looked up and
saw the flicker of pleasure in the stranger's dark eyes.
The semi-naked paramour clicked on a teasing grin as he walked back
across the carpet to the plush chair in front of the computer table, his shirt
neatly folded atop Jean's silk blouse. His provocative movements held Jean's
straight-forward gaze in their titillating trap as he carefully bent down and
removed the materials covering his feet, the rounded nubs of his spine poking
up through his back causing Jean to lick her lips appreciatively. Jean's face
was suddenly lit with joy as the stranger's hands moved to the cloth covered
clasps holding the elastic waistband of his trousers snugly at his hips.
Jean let out a sibilant burst of breath as the stranger's trousers
parted across his abdomen, a feint trail of whisper soft hair running into the
waistband of his undershorts causing her mind to whine desperately as she
yearned for the sight of the manly appendage still hidden behind the fabric of
his pants. A queer, furry sound emanated from her throat as the man standing
across the room removed his trousers and underwear, his precursor a short
cylindrical stub peeking out at her through a dark forest of curly black hair.
The air purifier sighed into the room as Jean watched the stranger come
toward her. She shifted herself backward on the waterbed comforter, her
buttocks thrilling to the feel of the smooth fabric sliding underneath her,
her womanly distillery brewing it's passion liquor deep inside her. Then, his
knees were on the railing of the waterbed, his hands resting atop her
shoulders and massaging the sinewy muscles of her neck, his mouth joined with
hers, their tongues playing back and forth with one another. Jean surrendered
herself to the gentle pushing of his hands, her back coming in contact with
the comforter as she fully reclined herself, the weight of his body gently
distributed along the length of hers, his cylindrical stub nestling into the
waspy coverlet of her womanhood.
Jean wrapped her arms around him in a loving embrace, one hand dancing
along the smooth flesh covering his spinal column while the other explored the
black thicket on the back of his head. The sensations he created with his
mouth and tongue caused her to move lovingly beneath him, her pelvis slowly melding with his, her acions rhymic as she used her hips to entice him to
erection. His movements were in tempo with hers, the firmness of his pelvic
bone grinding into her mini-penis, one hand casually rubbing the soft flesh of
her cheek while the other cupped her firm breast and toyed with her hardened
nipple. Jean's mind drank in the tingling sensations of her mounting pleasure
as his mouth, hands, and maneuvers urged her up the face of the mountain where
her ultimate orgasm would be attained.
His mouth left a feint smudge on her cheek as he slid himself down
across her nakedness, his lips and tongue nibbling and sucking at the flesh of
her throat, his hands massaging her hips as they trekked toward the firmness
of her buttocks, his tongue dancing along the veranda of her flattened chest.
Jean's fumbling fingers pulled at the back of his head as he stopped to feast
on the dark pink rigidness of her nipples, his tongue trailing back and forth
across the smoothness of her cleavage, his lips trapping her protruding darts
and sucking at their stiff sweetness. Jean's pelvis arched into the hardness
of his sternum as his mouth worked her breasts, his hands kneading the
firmness of her behind.
Jean's hands fell to her sides as he trailed his mouth down across the
flat plateau of her stomach, his tongue darting and tasting at the silky
flesh, his lips sucking at the little dead end hole in the center of her
belly. She cupped her petite breasts with both hands as his face slid into
the warmth of hair and flesh which lay open and inviting to his ministrations.
Her nipples pulsed wildly between her fingers as his tongue once again spoke
its loving dialogue with the guardian to her womanly treasures.
He played his mouth around the smooth flesh of her pelvis, his tongue
darting into the folds of warm flesh where her legs met her crotch, his lips
sucking invitingly at the denuded skin surrounding the manicured covering of
her bubbling vestibule. There was a furious pounding in the back of Jean's
head as his mouth entered her curly forest, his tongue parting the follicles
as it slid into her moistness.
His tongue prowled about inside her like a burglar, his lips trapping
the soft folds of her vaginal lips as he consorted with her inner wetness.
Jean's pelvis churned against his mouth as she moved to impale herself on the
slippery object swimming in her passion pool, the little aquarian occasionally
surfacing to play with her erect lifeguard before diving back into the syrupy
goodness of her basin.
Jean tried to pry her breasts from her body, her fingers pinching and
yanking at her hard nipples, as his hands moved beneath her buttocks and
lifted her up to his questing mouth. Her legs sprawled wide on the bed as he
brought her chalice to his mouth, his lips covering the length of her opening,
his teeth a gentle pressure against her body, his tongue snaking around inside
her like a serpent swimming in a silent sea. Jean's erotic expectations
wrecked havoc with her emotions as the first of her sweet lava flowed onto the
surface of the object ladling her brew.
She thrust her pelvis tight against his mouth, burying his tongue deep
inside her. Her hips thrust violently as she rubbed herself up and down
across his mouth, her love stud mashing itself against his teeth, the relent-
less motions of his tactile contact causing her to explode in spasmodic relief as her orgasms spewedher potions into his mouth.
He released his grip on her buttocks, allowing her backside to once more
rest atop the cool satin of the comforter, as he slowly lapped at the milky
whiteness trickling into the drenched forest of her coverlet. She loosened
her strangle hold on her breasts, her fingers playing at the hardened nipples,
as his mouth worked to dine on the remnants of the feast she'd served for him.
His orality helped create the exquisite melodies which played in Jean's mind.
Jean cradled the back of her head in the palms of her hands as he moved
his face from the dining hall between her legs, his lips trailing over her
lower abdomen, his tongue darting around her navel, his mouth once more gently
suckling at the hardened tips of the nipples she'd tried to rend from her
chest. He was on his knees now, and she saw that the little cylindrical stud
which had peeked out at her from his black forest was now fully hard and
erect, a massive stanchion of considerable length and breadth. Once more her
oven warmed with anticipation as she watched him move the stiffened flesh
toward her opening.
Moving so that his face was above hers, he bent and kissed her gently,
passionately. She tasted herself on his lips as her tongue slid into the warm
moistness of his mouth, the flavor of her passions rekindling the embers
smoldering inside her. She jerked in a sudden, spasmodic passion as the
pliable head of his hard staff poked into the soft folds of her portal.
Jean's kisses became eager, hungry, as he lowered himself onto her; his
vein studded prod sliding into her depths. She felt every ridge on the side
of his manhood as he buried himself inside her warmth, her mouth sucking at
his as he squeezed the firmness of her breast in his gentle grasp, his
pulsating center of power questing for her ultimate depth.
Jean was caught soundly in the throes of Aphrodite as he guided himself
in and out of her, the movements of his hips pulling the soft head of his
powerful missile to the outer limits of her vault, and then slowly coursing
back through her steaming river until he was at the very inner limit of her
throbbing cauldron.
They clung to each other atop the comforter, her lips meshed against
his; his left hand massaging her swollen breasts; her fingers dancing in the
dark hair on his head; his stiffness moving in and out of her with rhymic
precision; her body lost to the magic of the moment as he caressed the side of
her face with his right hand. Her hand went to his hip, questing as he moved
against her, her answer a strident lingering moan of joy. Shivers meandered
across her shoulder as he pushed himself into the retaining wall deep within
her.
Fire spread through him as he brought his stomach against hers, his pole
bucking wildly inside her as he neared the point when he'd paint a beautiful
mural on the walls of her gallery. She clung to him tearfully as he poked and
prodded inside her, his tempo increasing as they worked each other to plateaus
of wild intoxicating passion. Her sensual appetite exceeded even his as she
writhed beneath him, grinding herself into his pelvis, taking him as far into
her as was possible.
The aroused dark pink tips of her breasts shivered as she exploded over
him, her boiling stew combining with the hot spices he spewed into her. She
wanted to give him more of her but couldn't, the eagerness of her body had
consumed him to her very limits. She held him fiercely as he exploded inside
her, his throbbing manhood trapped tightly by the tautness of the muscles
lining the walls of her vagina. They consummated their joining in a strange,
wondrous rhythm of movement.
Jean lay spent beneath him, the fires in her body becoming warm reas-
suring embers. Her mind quickly dispatched a silent message of hope that Mick
had had as enjoyable an experience with the Canadian maid. The dark pink
tipped hills of her breasts rose and fell languidly as she lingered in the
ecstacy of the pleasures she'd just shared with the magnificent stranger who'd
only come in to buy some sensual software.
They lay side-by-side in the slow-cooling aftermath of their love
making, their hands toying and teasing with one another, their mouths lightly,
suggestively, tickling one another. They lay atop the comforter for what
seemed like an eternity, Jean's hair splayed on the satin covering like a fan.
The tall, olive complected stranger helped Jean to redress, pausing only
briefly to pay oral homage to her breasts before redoing the clasp of her
strapless bra. He had held the nape of her neck in the warmth of his lips as
he helped her pull her under clothes over her thighs and hips. He had nibbled
at her ear as she wrapped the cotton skirt around herself. His kisses had
been tender as he slowly rebuttoned the silk blouse across her upper torso.
There was absolutely no hesitancy as she too helped him with his attire.
Jean felt the warmness of his naked flesh as she moved the cotton fabric
of his underpants over his calves and thighs, his semi-flaccid manhood held
gently between her moist lips until she moved her face and let the elastic
waistband snug itself against his hips. She had clasped the tautness of his
spine in her hands, her mouth pressed against the fleshy mound inside his
cotton briefs, as he slowly raised his trousers and secured them to his waist.
She realized her earlier ambition as she covered the dark chocolate disk of
his areola with her mouth, her tongue darting back and forth on the hard tip
of his nipple, until it was time to redo the pearl snaps which held his shirt
together on his torso. There was a lingering nature to her caressing kisses
as she resnapped his shirt for him.
Jean's cheeks flushed with a dizzying uprush of emotion as she walked
arm-in-arm with the stranger. Her thoughts were lit by a thousand blazing
stars as they guided one another to the front door, the little icon still
proclaiming that the store was closed for business. Her roving hand on his
butt and wicked, womanly laugh accompanied them to the exit. His lips were
gentle and tender and careful as he gave her one last kiss before she unlocked
the door.
Jean felt a sudden release of abundant happiness well up inside her as
she watched the tall stranger walk across the sidewalk to his vehicle. He had
been as exciting a lover as she had ever had throughout the years that she and
Mick had been swinging together. His gentle techniques had made her windblown
passions flare wildly. She knew Mick would be thrilled when she told him of
her experience that afternoon. Then, suddenly, she remembered!
"Hey, wait a second." Jean's laugh was embarrassed, yet totally
feminine in its warmth.
"I never caught your name."
Stopping only momentarily as he bent into the car, one of his dark
chocolate eyes closing in a wink, his voice oozing conciliation, the olive-
hued stranger's reply was delivered to her in a familiar tone of teasing.
"I never threw it!"
///THE END///
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