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- Path: sparky!uunet!ogicse!das-news.harvard.edu!spdcc!joe
- From: joe@spdcc.com (Joseph Francis)
- Newsgroups: soc.motss
- Subject: Re: Tim Chain Porn
- Message-ID: <1993Jan26.144155.11243@spdcc.com>
- Date: 26 Jan 93 14:41:55 GMT
- Article-I.D.: spdcc.1993Jan26.144155.11243
- References: <15604.2b5fa101@ohstpy.mps.ohio-state.edu> <ALLEMANG.93Jan25165316@liasun7.epfl.ch>
- Organization: S.P. Dyer Computer Consulting, Cambridge MA
- Lines: 97
-
- In article <ALLEMANG.93Jan25165316@liasun7.epfl.ch> allemang@lia.di.epfl.ch (Dean Allemang) writes:
- >
- >Is there something about living in French speaking places that makes
- >us do this?
- >
- >In article <15604.2b5fa101@ohstpy.mps.ohio-state.edu> msp@ohstpy.mps.ohio-state.edu (Michael S. Pettersen) writes:
- >
- >
- > "There is no reality beyond that of the senses," said Jose. Gently
- > he moved le Jojo's hand aside, and took hold of the monstrous erection
- > engendered on Jojo by the imaginary Tim. "I must experience it directly
- > for myself." He turned Jojo's stool, and pressed his mouth towards Jojo's.
- >
- >
- >Jojo placed his hand firmly on Jose's chest, and pushed him away - but
- >from the force, it was jojo himself who wheeled away on the casters of
- >his chair. `Non, je n'y arrive pas!' gasped jojo, realizing that he
- >Jojo turned toward Jose, tears streaming down his cheeks. `Be
- >gentle,' whispered Jojo.
- >
- > Jojo felt the rough stubble of Jose's dark shadowed jaw on his lips and
- > the gentle exploratory caresses of Jose's hand in his lap,
- > and the bristles of his own blond moustache tangled with the jet
- > black of Jose's. Burly white arms circled a slim waist,
- > and olive arms circled burly shoulders.
- >
- >
- >Another pair of lovers in Paris - the city took no notice.
-
- Dino took off the VR helmet, and turning to the DC Motss.con crowd,
- said "I'm going to put that on CD-I. My god, the textures alone!"
-
- Nelson MINAR and Jess ANDERSON grinned. They knew about textures. The
- previous evening at the Gayety Burlesque theatre they had been
- speaking, and holding hands quietly, and slipping off to another
- smaller, lesser knwn Gogo boy theatre off McPherson Square indulged in
- a private ritual all their own. Had the other Motssers been there,
- they would have seen a nude Jess, flat on the floor with an equally
- naked Nelson towering above him. Squatting slightly, Nelson twisted
- and tirled his head and lashed out at Jess with his tresses as Jess
- recited "Post-Scriptum": "Leave me, let me wait unspeaking;" WHIP went
- Nelsons tresses, enflaming the tight button-like nipples of Jess's
- well-seasoned chest "I was born at your feet, but you have lost me;"
- SLASH the hair went, Nelson looking all the world like a pre-columbian
- figuringe about to impale himself on Jess's joint "Too well my fires
- have defined their kingdom;" Nelson, now twining his raven cois around
- Jess's balls, while his cock jerked with impatient rage "My treasure
- struck your chopping block and sank." Jess touches Nelson's cock, and
- as Nelson unrolls a rubber on Jess "The desert -- refuge for the mild
- lonely firebrand --" and lets it sink deeply into his bowels, savoring
- the moment. Jess's hips supporting gladly the weight, "Has never named
- me, never turned me out." The scene turns more intense, Nelson
- whimpering gently as Jess strokes his firm body, not unlike his own
- had been "Leave me, let me wait unspeaking;" and Jess holds firm the
- bucking youthful hips, grabbing the fat root, delirious "The clover of
- passion is iron in my hand." Onlookers startled, the stage rotating,
- the whipping of Jess's chest by the hair more frenzied "Like a horse
- aimless in bitter plowing" arching whipcrack muscles in the duo, "In
- the torpor of air my ways are opening", Nelson jumping back quickly to
- grab the gushing serpent with both hands as his own cock untouched
- streams with creamy dew. Slowly the evening winds down. "And little by
- little time will prune my face."
-
- "Face Pruning?" is heard, the crowd turns, and George Madison is at
- the door with the bear-police. "Anyone pull a razor, and they'll get
- it between the eyes," he says, holding an Ouzi. Jess hands him a glass
- of Suze, looking remarkably like poisin piss, and says, "it was a pun,
- George". Cheers.
-
- -----
- "Post-Scriptum" by Rene Char, part of "Le Visage Nuptial"
-
- Ecartez-vous de moi qui patiente sans bouche;
- A vos pieds je suis ne, mais vous m'avez perdu;
- Mes feux ont trop precise leur royaume;
- Mon tresor a coule contre votre billot.
-
- Le desert comme asile au seul tison suave
- Jamais ne m'a nomme, jamais ne m'a rendu.
-
- Ecartez-vous de moi qui patiente sans bouche:
- Le trefle de la passion est de fer dans ma main.
-
- Dans la stupeur de l'air ou s'ouvrent mes allees,
- Le temps emondera peu a peu mon visage,
- Comme un cheval sans fin dans un labour aigri.
-
- English Translation by Louise Varese (pretty awful, if you ask me,
- though another from Gravity (Man Ripening) is exquisite: I have
- pressed the whole weight of my desire/On your morning beauty/That it
- burst and escape/Then came strong drink but no Magi/The throb of your
- triangle/The day-labor of your eyes/And gravel upright on the
- seaweed/An odor of sunstroke/Guards the coming bloom. But even then
- the translation is odd. Oh well.)
-
- --
- US Jojo; damp, slighly soiled, but tasty nonetheless.
-