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 Archive name: Madabou1.txt (M/F, Bond)
 Authors name: Frost
 Story Title : Mad About You
 Part 1 of 8

 ------------------------------------------------------
 This work is copyrighted to the author (c) 1998.
 Please do not remove the author information or make
 any changes to this story. You may post freely to non-
 commercial "free" sites, or in the "free" area of
 commercial sites. Thank you for your consideration.
 ------------------------------------------------------

 Jamie bent low over the contract, squinting to catch the fine
 print. She made an impatient noise, then took off her glasses,
 cleaned them carefully, rubbed her eyes, then put them back on
 again. She studied the print, then made a small notation next
 to one of the lines.

 She sat back in the chair and yawned, then rubbed her eyes again
 and glanced at the clock. It was almost eight. Paul was going
 to be mad again. They'd hoped to have a romantic evening to-
 gether, to make up for some of the time they'd missed.

 She made a wry face, then flipped the page and read down the
 fine print again. Late hours were a neccesary part of life,
 this time of year, especially if you wanted to be the most
 junior partner at Baskin Forbes, one of New York's largest
 advertising agencies.

 She wrapped up the work just before nine, then finally shrugged
 on her hip-length suede jacket, slipped into her sneakers, and
 headed downstairs to the parking lot. She didn't yet have the
 BMW she'd hoped for, but last year had managed to trade in the
 eight year old Toyota for a two year old Chrysler, so she was
 getting there.

 She flipped a lock of soft, blonde hair out of her eyes as she
 started the engine, then accelerated smoothly, and turned out
 onto the street. At this time of night the traffic was fairly
 thin, and twenty-five minutes later she was pulling up in front
 of her building...to find no parking spaces, of course.

 She cursed at the Nissan in her space, then drove a block up
 and stole someobody elses. She stepped out of the car and
 shivered a bit in the late January weather. She did up her
 coat tightly and slipped on her gloves as she made her way
 back down the street.

 She walked along briskly, and a minute later Jerry, their
 doorman, was pulling the door open and smiling at her.

 "Hi there, Mrs. Buchman," he smiled.

 "Hi, Jerry," she said.

 "Nuther late night?"

 "Afraid so," she sighed, making her way to the elevators.

 "Well, gotta climb that slippery ladder," Jerry said.

 "Just so there's plenty of gold at the top," she smiled,
 stepping into the elvator as it opened.

 He watched her until the door closed, remembering the sight
 of her in the summer, wearing a tight spandex workout outfit
 when he'd delivered a package to her door. She was slender,
 but athletic, and with her bright blue eyes, and beautiful,
 silky hair was just adorable.

 His feelings were mixed. Half of him wanted to pat her head
 and hug her in a kind of paternal way.

 The other half wanted to fuck her brains out. She had some
 kinda ass, and the thought of her kneeling between his legs,
 and him plunging his pecker into that sweet mouth, was
 enough to get his rocks off every time he beat his meat.

 "Man, would I love to fuck you," he whispered to himself as
 the doors closed.

 Jamie turned and checked her face in the mirrored wall as
 she rode upstairs. She pulled some bangs down over her fore-
 head, hoping to look waif-like, and defuse some of Paul's
 inevitable anger.

 She tried out various sad smiles on herself until the
 elevator stopped, then she sighed and headed down the hall
 to their apartment.

 She did love Paul, she really did, but...after six years of
 marriage...things were...not quite boring, but certainly it
 had been a while since sparks flew.

 She shrugged and pushed her key into the apartment. She
 pushed open the door and peeked inside, then pushed it open
 all the way and flipped on the lights. Paul wasn't here.

 She hissed worriedly, wondering if he'd gone out to get drunk
 or something. She cloed the door, then hung up her coat.

 "Paul?" she called.

 She walked through the living room to the bedroom, then
 checked the bathroom and kitchen. He wasn't here, nor was
 there any sign that he'd been here recently. She checked his
 closet. His brown suit was missing. That was the suit he'd
 worn to work.

 She pondered that for a moment. Surely if he'd come home
 he'd have changed immediately, and even if he'd waited an
 hour or two before getting disgusted and leaving, surely
 he'd not put on the same suit.

 "I should have called," she said.

 But she hadn't. At five she'd hoped she'd finish by six, and
 so get home only a bit late. At six she thought surely it
 would only be till seven. At seven she had thought she'd
 be done by eight. and by eight she was too afraid of getting
 the phone slammed in her ear to call.

 But she'd wondered why he hadn't called her.

 She worried now that something might have happened to him,
 that he'd been hit by a car or mugged or something.

 Then she heard a key in the front door and raced into the
 bedroom. She closed the door and stripped, dumping every-
 thing into her closet, then pulled on a green satin night-
 shirt that set off her blonde hair so well.

 She ran to the door just as Paul opened it, fluffing her
 hair so it hung down over her shoulders.

 "Oh," he said.

 "Oh," she said.

 "Uhm, look, honey, I'm really sorry."

 "You are?"

 "Yeah, I tried to call, but the pay phone wan't working."

 "And there's only one payphone in the city?

 "Ahhh, I was stuck in traffic. See, I had to go all the way
 out to Queens to check on a set i wanna use for the phone
 company thing, and it just took longer than I thought. I
 lost track of time."

 "Hmmph," she said, turning up her nose. "Some romantic
 evening."

 "Well, aaahh, can't we make it for tomorrow?"

 "We have to go out with Sara and Dave tomorow."

 "Oh, yeah, uhm, couldn't we cancel?"

 "No, we couldn't cancel! It's their anniversery. We're
 going to the opera."

 "Yuch."

 He came into the bedroom and took off his suit jacket
 then undid his tie. Jamie moved to the bed and sat on
 the edge, crossing her long legs.

 "Did you eat something?"

 "Yeah, I had a couple of burgers sent in," he said,
 kicking off his shoes. He massaged his feet and sighed
 tiredly.

 "Ohh, la, lah," she said as he bent over.

 "Don't be such a dirty girl," he said.

 "I can't help it. That's just the way I am."

 "I married a cheap bimbo."

 "And a forgiving one, lucky for you."

 "Yes, very forgiving." He stripped to his shorts, then
 came over and slid his hands around her head, leaning
 in to kiss her on the forehead, then on the lips. Her
 arms went around him and their tongues touched briefly
 as her hands slid down onto his ass.

 He sighed and pushed her head away, smling wryly. "Honey,
 I am sooooo tired."

 "So?"

 "I mean, can we...like, wait until tomorow?"

 "You mean you're too hired to make love?"

 "Well...kind of, yeah."

 "I can remember a time you'd crawl through broken glass
 to get to me."

 "Yeah, well." He smiled,kissed her on the forehead again,
 then stepped back. "That was before I knew you."

 "Oh you..!" she swung at him but he ducked back with a
 grin.

 Jamie was so tired herself that she couldn't find it in
 her heart to blame him. All she wanted to do was veg out
 in front of the TV and relax.

 "Do you know the last time we made love?" she sighed.

 "A couple of days ago."

 "No. We fucked a couple of days ago. I'm talking about
 making love. You know, when it lasts longer than twenty
 minutes."

 "Jesus, Jamie, can't we argue about this tomorrow," he
 groaned, pulling on his lying-around-the-house sweats.

 "What? In front of Sara and Dave? Anyway, I'm not com-
 plaining. I mean, I'm not blaming you. It's just that...
 we've both been so busy..."

 "I know."

 "I just wonder if we've become bored with each other or
 something. There was a time we couldn't keep our hands
 off each other. Now we can sleep in the same bed for days
 and not touch each other."

 "I am not bored with you," he growled, sliding his arms
 around her.

 "Well, maybe bored isn't the right term," she sighed.
 "Maybe...maybe we just don't...excite each other like we
 used to."

 "We're just tired."

 "Maybe," she sighed.

 He kissed her and went out into the living room. She
 followed slowly. "Thanksgiving," she said.

 "What?"

 He dropped onto the sofa and reached for the remote as
 she slid down beside him.

 "Thanksgiving night. That's the last time we made love."

 "We made love plenty of times since then."

 "Yeah, once a week," she snorted. "Anyway, I'm not talk-
 ing about a morning quicky, or a fifteen or twenty minute
 session before we go to bed, I'm talking about making
 love."

 "Honey," he groaned. "Neither of us has the time any more
 to spend two or three hours groping and necking on the
 fuckin' couch."

 "If Cindy Crawford walked in that door naked right now
 you'd find the time and energy."

 "Well...yeah, I guess."

 "So you're not that attracted to me any more!"

 "I am too! It's just that...men are whores, I guess. We
 like to sleep around with gorgeous fashion models when-
 ever they throw themselves at us. Anyway, wouldn't you
 jump Tom Cruise if he walked through the room naked?"

 "No."

 "Liar."

 "Well, maybe I would. He's sure got some kind of body."

 "And I don't?"

 "Not like him."

 "Thanks."

 "Do you think familarity breeds contempt?"

 "I could never have contempt for you? You're too gor-
 geous," he grinned, sliding his hand along her leg.

 "Yeah, but what about me having contept for you?"

 "Oh, very funny. You're a funny lady."

 She crawled over and straddled him, sitting on his
 thighs as she pushed him back and licked her lips se-
 ductively. Then she reached down and peeled her night-
 shirt up and off in one smooth motion, tossing it on
 the floor behind her.

 He reached for her but she gripped his wrists and
 shoved his hands back.

 "Do you think I'm sexy?" she purred.

 He looked straight into the soft, high flesh of her
 breasts, e yeing the bright pink nipples, and smiled.

 "Yes, you're very exciting," he said.

 She held his hands, rubbing her ass up down on his thighs
 as she tightened her knees against his hips.

 "Do I turn you on?" she growled.

 "Sometimes," he said.

 She brushed her nipples against his face, pulling her
 chest back as he tried to mouth them.

 "Do I now?" she taunted.

 "You're sure starting to," he said.

 "Like what you see?" she teased, brushing her breasts
 against his face. He licked at them and she pulled back.
 She stuck her tongue out at him, then pulled up off his
 lap and stood up. She looked down at him, saw him
 staring into her crotch, and grinned as his hands came
 up and gripped her buttocks.

 His tongue slid along her pussy crack and she laughed,
 then jerked away and jumped back onto the floor. She
 snatched up her nightshirt and pulled it on over her
 head.

 "Just wondered," she said, grinning at him.

 "Get your ass back here," he growled.

 "No way. I know how tired you are. I don't want to
 exhaust you."

 "Get back here."

 "Uh uh."

 He jumped to his feet and she squealed and ran around
 behind the sofa. He chased her, and she circled the
 sofa a couple of times. Then he leapt over the thing
 and caught her, growling as he lifted her up over his
 shoulders.

 He staggered back to the sofa as she writhed in his
 arms, then fell heavily into the plush cushion, grabbing
 her around the middle as she tried to crawl away.

 "Let me go!" she cried, laughing.

 "Not likely," he said, flipping up the bottom of her
 nightshirt to reveal her bare behind.

 She twisted this way and that, and he got an arm around
 her waist and pulled her over his lap, tugging the
 nightshirt higher. His right hand slapped down against
 her ass and she yelped and squirmed harder.

 "Hold still, you brat!"

 "Pervert!" she cried.

 He gripped her pussy and kneaded the flesh as her legs
 jerked and bounced on the sofa. Then she moaned and slowed
 her motions, spreading her legs.

 "Ah ha, got you where it hurts, didn't I?" he grinned,
 rubbing his hand up and down her pussy mound.

 "Hmmmmmmm," she moaned.

 He slipped his hand out from between her soft thighs and
 cracked it down on her ass again. She yelped and cursed
 wildly.

 "You deserve a spanking for being a cocktease," he laughed.

 "That'll be the day!" she cried, writhing and wriggling in
 his arms as she tried to escape.

 She managed to twist around and get across the sofa, then
 flopped off onto the floor. He grabbed her again, falling
 atop her, and they rolled several times before he came out
 on top. She twisted, and tried to crawl away, but he grabbed
 her again.

 He sat back on his heels and hauled her belly up across his
 knees, then pulled her wrists together behind her back and
 pinned them there with one hand. He flipped up the bottom
 of her nightshirt again and spanked her ass several times.

 Both of them had been just enjoying themselves, fooling
 around, having fun, but something caught both of them in
 the guts as his hand slapped across her ass, and both of
 them realized it.

 For Paul, it was a feeling of power that seemed to swell
 his lust to a point he hadn't felt in months.

 For Jamie, it was a strange feeling of helplesness, some-
 thing that appealed to all those adolescent fantasies about
 authority figures and rape.

 Paul slapped his hand down harder, almost experimentally,
 ready to back off and apologise if she got angry. She
 didn't, though she cried out, and a red handprint appeared
 on her ivory flesh. Again he slapped his hand down, then
 again, then again, wondering at his response, feeling his
 rock-hard prick pushing against her belly.

 Jamie felt her eyes tearing at the biting heat in her rear
 end as his hand cracked down again. She cried out in pain,
 her breathing harsh and ragged as she tried to understand
 why her loins were so hot and moist and heavy, why the blows
 were setting her guts churning in spite of the pain.

 She was a strong-willed feminist, a well-educated, indepen-
 dant career woman. How could she let him spank her as though
 she were some little girl? How could she let him live out
 some kind of adolescent fantasy by hurting her?

 And how could it feel so good?

 Finally his hand cracked down especially hard and she cried
 out in pain, her body thrashing away. She rolled several
 times, then leapt to her feet as he jumped up after her. She
 backed away, not speaking, her heart pounding.

 She found herself backed against the side of the bookcase,
 hemmed in by Paul. She pushed her hands out but he gripped
 her wrists and lifted them high above her, pinning them to-
 gether above her head, pressing them back against the
 bookcase.

 They stared at each other, then his right hand slid up and
 down her body, then undid the buttons, starting at the top,
 working downwards, until her nightshirt fell apart and bared
 her soft, slender body. Her breasts rose and fell on her
 heaving chest as she pulled her wrists against his hold.

 His hand moved up and down her again, rough, fast, squeezing
 her breasts, then diving down between her legs. She gasped
 and arched her back as he palmed her pubic mound and squeezed
 almost painfully hard.

 "Oohhhhh," she gasped. "Oohhh God!"

 He forced a finger up inside her, then a second, jamming
 them in to the knuckles as she gasped and wriggled against
 the bookcase. Her legs twisted and her ass ground agaisnt
 the wood as he pumped his fingers inside her. Then he brought
 his thumb donw on her clitty, catching it against his fingers,
 and began to roughly grind and rub against it.

 "Fuck! Oh FUCK!" Oh God!"

 "Yeah, yeah! You like that, huh, baby! Come on, baby! Come
 on my fingers! Show me what a hot assed slut you are!"

 "Ohhh! OOh, Paul! Noo...nooo, Maa...Maaarrk!"

 She felt the heat swelling inside her, felt her breasts
 aching, her nipples burning like glowing red embers. She
 slapped her ass back against the side of the bookcase again
 and again, jerking her head back as the air puffed out
 between her lips.

 "Come, baby! Come on my fingers!"

 "Oooohhhh!"

 Jamie didn't know what was happening to her. She hadn't felt
 this hot in months. Her insides were churning and roiling,
 and her head was roaring like an freight train. She felt a
 sudden blast of high-intensity pleasure rip through her pussy
 and bucked her hips forward violently, then arched her back
 as she trembled and shook.

 An orgasm boiled through her nerves and sinews, and she
 shuddered as the power of it tore her mind to pieces. She
 gurgled in bliss, hardly able to breath as her chest tightened
 and her legs danced and jerked helplessly.

 Paul jerked her away from the bookcase, throwing her against
 the back of the sofa. The momentum carried her upper body
 forward and down over the back of the couch, and she groaned
 as she stared at the cushions. She felt his hands on her
 thighs, ripping them open, then felt his cock against her
 pussy.

 Paul's hands shook as he rubbed his cock up and down against
 her drooling pussy slit. As a liberated woman, it was very
 seldom when Jamie would allow herself to be taken like this,
 to be fucked from behind. She found it degrading.

 Now, however, with the sex-heat fully in contol of her, she
 didn't seem able to protest. He slid into her, then gripped
 her hips and thrust deeply. He heard her groan, a long,
 quavering sound of pleasure, as his cock drove deep into her
 guts.

 He gripped her ass, squeezing and kneading the soft meat,
 then raised both hands and slapped them down. She yelped,
 then groaned again, as his fingers dug into her ass meat and
 he began to fuck her hard and fast. His cock pumped furiously
 as his hips spanked her ass cheeks.

 He used the full length of his hard, thick pecker as he
 rodded it into her belly. He watched his cock sawing back
 and forth between her soft, furred cunt lips, watched the
 dark pink flesh within her, all moist and glistening as his
 cock pounded through it.

 "Fuck!" he gasped. "Oh, man!"

 He buried his tool inside her, then ground his hips against
 her ass and thighs. He ran his hands up and down her ass then
 slapped it again as he began to fuck once more. He felt her
 insides spasming and shaking and squeezing down on his boner,
 and felt his juices ready to blast, ready to blow.

 He gripped her thighs and jerked them wider, spreading her
 open for him. She groaned again, but he didn't care. He drove
 his tool into her furry crack with total abandon, grunting
 with effort, groaning with pleasure as his hips pounded
 against her thighs.

 Her glasses fell off, and she hardly noticed. She gurgled and
 grunted in bliss and dazed confusion as he drilled her exposed
 pussy crack, and spanked her ass with his hips.

 Then he came, his juices frothing out of his prick, flooding
 her insides. His hot, salty white cock-milk poured down into
 her wriggling body as he felt his balls draining and his cock
 slowly begin to soften.

 "Oohhh, baaby," he groaned.

 He reached down and pulled her upright, and her feet stumbled,
 then found purchase on the rug. He pulledher tightly against
 him, even as his softening cock reamined inside her. His hands
 kneaded her breasts as he kissed and licked the sides of her
 throat.

 "Who says you don't excite me?" he sighed.

 "Bastard," she sighed.

 Continued in part 2...

 * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
 It’s okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
 strangers. But it isn’t okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex
 with strangers!!  You only have one body per lifetime,
 so take good care of it.
 * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
 Kristen's collection - Directory 6