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o o
o The Bookshelf Directories offer a very wide variety of stories. o
o They have been submitted by people from all over the world. Also o
o from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups). There is no particular order o
o other than offering them to you in alphabetical directories. o
o o
o All works are copyrighted to the author and may not be used for o
o profit without obtaining the author's permission in advance. o
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o Lest we forget!!! This story was produced as adult entertainment o
o and should not be read by minors. o
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o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
Black Sunday (MF, v, fant)
by Wes Ellison (c) 1995
***
The mesquite bush offered some cover but I would have preferred
a brick wall. From this vantage point, I could see the three
men and only the back of the woman. One had a large caliber
handgun and was waving it in the woman's face and yelling at
her. I removed my .44 magnum and pulled the hammer back, which
made a resounding click.
I set the sights on the jerk with the handgun and waited until
I had a clear shot. Finally, the jerk back handed the woman and
sent her sprawling to the ground. His head was right where I
wanted it. I slowly squeezed the trigger down and fired. The
.44 damn near set me on my butt from the recoil, but through
the sight, I could see that I had hit him. He flew back, his
head disappearing in a red and gray mist.
The woman began to scream and the other two men went for their
guns. I took aim on the fat sucker and fired. The round caught
him squarely in the chest and he fell with most of his innards
coming out of his back. I caught sight of the third man running
down and around a burned out house. The silence was deafening,
as I scanned the area for the third man.
He was nowhere in sight, so I yelled to the woman to see if she
was ok. She poked her head around the corner of a burned
storage shed and peered in my direction. I suddenly recognized
her as Sherry. As I stood up, I saw her eyes go wide and she
smiled and called my name. I began to walk down the hill
towards her, with that beautiful face smiling back at me. I
suddenly felt a white-hot burning feeling in my left shoulder
and felt myself being thrown forward, just as I heard the shot
from behind me.
As the ground rushed up to meet me, I realized it must be the
third asshole. He must have swung around behind me. I hit the
ground with a resounding thud and felt a dark fog beginning to
creep up on me. The .44 went flying out in front of me out of
reach. I fought the fog and began to crawl for the large
revolver. As I reached it, a shot rang out and the round hit
about two inches from my right ear, the sand stinging my face
from where it hit.
The fog was now a storm cloud invading my mind. I reached the
pistol and wrapped my right hand around the smooth handle, and
started to lift it. It felt as though it weighed a ton.
As I picked it up, I could see Sherry in a semi-crouch position
with a large handgun pointed in my direction. As she fired, the
storm cloud enveloped me completely and I fell into the velvety
blackness, and the nightmare of Black Sunday began again.
~~
The week started out normal enough. Monday came in the form of
a beautiful day, with the Arizona heat starting early. I went
to the office and began to pick through my service calls. The
Tucson Medical Center had logged another call on their NMR Cat
Scanner. I had been fighting the damn thing for a month.
Something in the data-logging computer kept acting up. I dialed
the number on my memo pad and Dr. Donaldson answered.
He told me that the computer was at it again, so I gave him a
45-minute ETA. I told the dispatcher to put me on the call and
grabbed the parts kit and headed out.
Traffic was brisk on Speedway, and the radio kept going back to
the Middle East crisis, as the Butcher of Baghdad was at it
again. I switched off the radio and plugged a Moody blues tape
in. I finally reached TMC and swung into the service parking
lot. As I was walking down the hallway with my tool kit and
parts kit, Dr. Donaldson stepped out of a side door. He was an
unassuming little bald guy wearing a starched white lab coat,
but he was friendlier than some of my other customers.
We walked to the NMR lab and talked about the problem. As I
began running my diagnostics, he said that the machine was mine
for as long as I needed it, but he would return later and check
on my progress. About 20 minutes had gone by when I heard the
door behind me open. I figured it was Donaldson, so I swung
around to give him an update.
When I saw who it was, my heart skipped a beat. One of the most
beautiful women I have ever seen was standing in the doorway.
She was wearing a white nurse's uniform that covered most of
her shapely legs. As I scanned up her wonderful form, I could
see the firm bulge of her breast straining at the uniform's
top. But her face was one of an angel.
She had the deepest blue eyes I had ever seen and her hair was
a golden blonde color, which was stacked on her head in a bun.
She smiled sweetly and introduced herself as Nurse Craig, but
she said I could call her Sherry. I managed to cough my name
out and weakly smile at her. She said that she was moving from
ER to the NMR lab and she would be in charge of the machine and
wanted to watch me repair it.
I offered her the chair next to and watched as she sat that
wonderful body down in it. I began to explain what I was doing,
but had to concentrate on not staring at her breast. Finally, I
finished my tour of repairing an NMR and she started to asking
questions about this, that and the other.
As the system was running a long diagnostic, we began to engage
in idle chat. We were both surprised and delighted to find out
that we had both attended Louisiana State University at about
the same time and knew some of the same people went to some of
the same nightclubs and enjoyed the same music. Her long
fingers were curled up in her lap and I noticed she wasn't
wearing a wedding band, so I screwed up my courage and ask how
her husband liked Tucson.
Much to my relief, she replied that she had never been married.
I figured a woman as beautiful as this had to have a boyfriend,
so I asked her. She had a faint look of sadness cross her face
and said that she had broke up with him two months ago. Bingo!
I just might have a chance. We talked some more until the
printer spit out an error.
I checked the error and found it to be an intermittent on the
serial I/O board. I replaced the board and brought the machine
back up. As I was packing my equipment up, I asked her if she
would mind having dinner with me Wednesday night. She smiled
the angel smile and said that she had other plans Wednesday,
but she liked the offer. I gave her my phone number and told
her she could call when she had a chance. She smiled again and
said she would. I left TMC with her on my mind for the rest of
the day.
Wednesday came and went and the rest of the week was
uneventful. Saturday finally arrived and I was stuck on weekend
call. I wheeled my Harley out of the garage and began to change
the oil and spark plugs. The bike was a 1940 knucklehead
dresser and was indeed a collector's item. She was in mint
condition and I enjoyed keeping her that way. I had to be at
Rincon Park at 3:00 P.M., where I worked for the parks and rec
as a part time Tae Kwon Do instructor. I got my Dobok bag and
slung it on the back of the Harley and headed down 22nd street
to the park.
After a good two-hour workout, I returned home and hit the
fridge, pulled out a ice-cold bottle of Corona and downed it in
four gulps. Cold Mexican beer has a habit of making your head
spin if drank to fast. I then headed to the shower, after which
I came out nude and plopped into the recliner and flipped the
tube on. All three channels had nothing but the on going air
strikes against Iraq and the tension between the Soviets and
the United States.
It was too nice of a day to get depressed watching that. I
flipped the tube off and headed to the den to work with a new
program for my 386. Just as I sat down, the phone rang. I
thought, well old bean, time to go back to work. I answered the
phone and much to my delight, it was Sherry. She said that she
was staying with a girlfriend in Sells and that the
girlfriend's boyfriend came into town and they decided to come
to Tucson for dinner and maybe a little dancing and she wanted
to know if I would like to meet them.
I more than said I would love to, just tell me when and where.
She gave me the details and hung up. I was so thrilled, I
couldn't think straight. I put on a pair of black slacks and a
sports shirt, then pulled on my dress boots and headed out to
the Harley. We were to meet at Sneaky Pete's steak house in
East Tucson at 7:00 P.M. I wheeled the big Harley out to Grant
road and headed east to Tanque Verde road, then to Sneaky
Pete's.
I arrived at about a quarter till, so I went to the bar and
ordered a Corona and sat facing the door waiting for them to
arrive. About fifteen minutes later, she walked in. My heart
skipped a beat when I saw her. She was wearing a low cut black
mini skirt with nude colored pantyhose and black heels. Her
golden blonde hair was flowing around her shoulders and down
the middle of her back. She was absolutely beautiful. She seen
me and smiled the angel smile again that would melt any man's
heart and started walking my way.
As she was walking into the bar, every guy in the place stopped
in mid-sentence and stared at her. I was on top of the world as
she came up and said hi and took my hand and led my back to her
friends. Watching her hips sway started that old rustling
feeling in my crotch. She introduced me to her friends and we
proceeded into the dining room. After a fantastic steak, we
decided to head out to the Bum Steer. When we got to the
parking lot, she followed me to the Harley. Once she had seen
it, she became ecstatic.
She said that she used to ride a Triumph 750 and that she
dearly loved Harleys. Her friend asked if she was ready to go
and she said she would be riding with me. I got the bike
started and she swung her leg over the saddle, giving me a
great view of her firm thighs. God, she was gorgeous.
I had to concentrate on my driving rather than stare in the
rear view mirrors at her spread legs, which believe me, was
difficult! We arrived at the Bum Steer and paid the two-dollar
cover and went in. The band was playing 60's and 70's rock and
the place was filling up fast.
We started dancing the fast dances and just watching her breast
jiggle from the movements was turning me on to no end. I kept
wishing for a slow song to get the chance to hold the fantastic
body next to me. I finally got my wish. The band started
playing the Moody Blues and Nights in White Satin. I put my
left arm around her waist and my right hand cradled her head.
Her hair was incredibly soft and smelled so fresh and clean.
Her breasts were pressed into my chest and I could feel her
nipples getting hard through the fabric. Try as hard as I may,
I ended up getting an erection. She gently pressed her groin
into mine and kissed my ear. Her warm breath sending shivers
down my spine. All to soon, the song ended and I limped back to
the table with her. We finished our drinks and she said that as
much as she hated to, they had to get back to Sells.
We walked back to the parking lot, hand in hand and her friends
got into the car. She told them she would be there in a moment.
I was leaning against the bike when she came up and put her
arms around my neck. I slid both arms around her and pulled her
closer. She whispered in my ear that she had one of the best
times she had in years and wanted to go with me on a date by
ourselves. Before I could answer, she gently pressed her lips
to mine.
Damn, she tasted good. I now know where the song 'lips sweeter
than wine' came from. I ran my tongue along the bottom of her
lip to her tongue. It was like an electric current surging
through me at the feel of her moist, wet tongue. While we were
French kissing, she run her hand to my hips and along to my
beeper.
She accidentally pressed the test button and it went off. She
jerked her hand away, startled at the sound. When she realized
what it was, she burst out laughing and gave me a quick kiss on
the lips then turned to leave. She said she would call me next
week and we could set up a time. I told her that I could hardly
wait to see her again.
She said good night and walked back to the car, her lovely butt
swaying gently. I mounted the Harley and wheeled out of the
parking lot onto south Stone Ave. I couldn't believe this was
happening to me. I made it home and crawled into bed at half
pass two. I dozed off with the sweet taste of Sherry's lips on
mine.
I heard a dull ringing sound. Now what the hell was that? Then
I heard it again and figured out is was the phone. I glanced at
the digital clock on the nightstand and it showed 3:42. Who the
hell would be calling me at 3:42 in the morning? I answered the
phone with a groan. It was my dispatcher. She told me that the
instrument landing system at the Marana Air Park was down and
they need service now. I mumbled to her to have the logistics
person set out a parts kit and to call the air park back and
give them a 5:00 ETA.
I got dressed and grabbed my tool kit. The air was still warm,
so I decided to ride the Harley. I strapped the tool kit on and
headed to the office to pick up the parts kit. Once I had the
kit, I headed to Interstate 10 and then north towards Phoenix.
At 4:15 in the morning, the Interstate was empty, so I set back
listening to the low rumble of the Harley's engine, feeling the
warm desert air in my face and my sweet memories of the night
before with Sherry. I reached the Marana turn off and headed
west towards the site. Suddenly, there was a white-blue flash
to the south that lit up the whole sky.
My first thought was that an aircraft had crashed because of my
ILS system being down. I pulled the Harley over to the shoulder
and put the kickstand down then looked to the south. I was
instantly gripped in terror. The entire southern horizon was
lit up and out of the center of it was the nightmare of the
decades old boogieman.
A large mushroom cloud was forming from it. Suddenly, a bright
flash to the north occurred, followed a few seconds later by a
flash to the northeast and yet again, to the northwest. I was
totally stunned and frozen in place. Then the firestorm came. I
could see a 500-meter high wall of dust rolling my way from the
north.
I jumped off of the bike and made a dive for a culvert along
side of the road. I buried my head in the crook of my elbow
just as it hit. It sounded like the roar of a thousand jets
coming at me. The pressure forced all of the air out of my
lungs and I couldn't breath.
It stopped just as fast as it came. I laid there sobbing for
what seemed like an hour. Finally I crawled out of the culvert
and stood up on shaky legs. The entire sky was glowing a
hellish color of red. Three mushroom clouds had formed to the
north and one to the south. My god, I thought, they actually
did it! The Harley was still on its kickstand and idling, but
the paint had been sandblasted off of the side facing north. I
straddled the bike and just sat, with it idling.
Finally, I pulled the kickstand up and put her in gear and did
a 'U' turn back to the east. I reached I-10 and headed south
towards the angry glow from Tucson. As I was traveling towards
Tucson, I began to notice shadows of blown out buildings along
the highway. As I reached Ina road, there was a large fuel
tanker crossways in the road.
It had exploded and burned every thing within a 100 meter's of
it. The smell of burnt rubber, gasoline and burnt flesh hit me
like a hammer. I turned off on Ina road and headed east towards
the Catalina mountains. As I crested a hill, I looked south,
and my heart stopped! What once was a beautiful city was now
only a smoldering skeleton. Fires were raging throughout the
entire valley and the smell of death was overpowering. I began
to weep at the loss, as Black Sunday had arrived.
A sound in front of me jarred me awake. I slowly opened one eye
and begin to focus on a human form about 4 meters in front of
me. I opened the other eye and realized the form was for sure
female, by the curves in the jeans. As I started to sit up, a
stabbing pain came from my left shoulder. I let out a little
groan and the form spun around.
I looked up into her face and saw that it was Sherry. She was
wearing a T-shirt and a pair of tight jeans with a large
holstered gun strapped to her side, the muzzle gently slapping
the small crease between her legs. She smiled and said
something like welcome back to the living. I just groaned and
asked her what happened. She said that she was scrounging for
some supplies in that neighborhood when three men suddenly
surrounded her.
One of them told her to strip and she told him to go to hell,
so he slapped her and knocked her down. She said that she had
just looked up when his head exploded. After he fell, she
grabbed the .357 out of his dead hand and hid behind a burned
out shed. The fat man to her left was getting his gun out when
his back exploded. She then knew she was dead.
She said that when I called out, the voice sounded familiar, so
she very carefully looked in the direction of the voice. She
said that her heart jumped for joy when she saw who it was. As
I was walking to her, she said her eyes were focused on me when
the shot came.
The third bastard, as she put it, had circled around. She took
the .357 and aimed it at his face and fired. She said she hit
him in the throat and nearly severed his head off. Then she
said that she ran up to me and saw the shoulder wound. At first
she thought I was dead and she began to cry, but she checked
the ceratoid pulse and it was still strong.
She began to drag me up the hill, stopping to pick the .30-30
up from the dead creep. At the top of the hill, she saw my
Harley in the distance, so she laid me down and ran to the
bike. The keys were still in it, so she started it and rode
over to where I was.
She then said that putting me on the bike was a chore and a
half! Once she had me straddled the seat, she took a couple of
bungee cords from the back of the seat and wrapped them around
me, then hooked then to the backrest to keep me in place. She
then brought me here, which was a small shack at the base of A-
mountain. She said that I was out for close to three days, but
that was from the medication she shot me up with. The .30-30
round had missed anything important and made a clean exit.
I told her it still hurt like hell, and she just laughed. My
mouth felt like a herd of Walrus's had shit in it and I asked
her if she had something to brush my teeth with. She reached
over me, her breast dangling in front of me with a view that
showed she wasn't wearing a bra, and retrieved a toothbrush and
some toothpaste. I slowly got up and staggered to a basin by
the door and begin brushing my teeth. I noticed that all I had
on was my red bikini briefs and my manhood was semi-rigid,
pressing against the fabric. Sherry also noticed, but just
smiled. After I cleaned the Walrus shit out of my mouth and
ducked outside for a good piss, I came in and sat on the edge
of the cot.
Sherry sat down next to me and we started to talk. We talked
for what seemed like hours. Black Sunday happened nearly six
months ago and I was surprised to find out that such a
beautiful creature, as Sherry would have to fight for her life.
She had come back to Tucson several weeks after the nuclear
Armageddon began. Her friends were with her, but a sniper
killed her girlfriend's boy friend and a week later, her
girlfriend came down with pneumonia and died. So she was alone
all of this time trying to survive.
I told her it would be best for us to leave the city and head
west, maybe for the Yuma desert, to which she agreed, as the
city had to many weirdoes in it. She finally got up and got the
washbasin and a washrag and returned to change the dressing
over my wound. After she finished, she sat the basin down and
we just stared into each other's eyes. I reached up and gently
took her chin in my hand and kissed her lips. She responded by
putting her arms around me.
I could feel her nipples starting to get hard through her T-
shirt, so I slid my hand under her top and began to massage her
firm tits. She let out a little moan as my hand touched her now
erect nipple on her left tit. I then lifted the T-shirt up over
her head and for the first time, saw her breast. They weren't
huge, but by all account a mouth full. The skin on them was a
creamy tan color and the nipples were a dark rose color.
I started to nibble on one of the nipples and she began to moan
softly. As I was enticing her nipple, my other hand began to
slide down her belly to the top of her jeans. I slid my hand
under the top of the jeans and down to the top of her panties,
then finally to the top of her soft bush. Her bush was so soft
and full and warm. She gently put her hands on my chest and
pushed me back.
She asked if I felt up to it and I told her I felt like I could
jog to Phoenix and back right then. She let out a small laugh
and stood up. She then began to unbutton her jeans and slid the
zipper down ever so slowly. T
Then she pulled her jeans off and was standing in front of me
with nothing on but a pair of black bikini panties. Her legs
were awesome as they were so firm, yet soft looking. She then
hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and slowly
pulled them off. She had the most beautiful pubic bush I had
ever seen. It was covered in a thick forest of strawberry
blonde hair and was so thick that the outline of her vagina
lips was just visible.
She then came over and began to rub the now bulging spot in my
briefs. She let out a little gasp as she pulled them down,
exposing my now fully erect manhood. She took it in her hand
and began to run the tip of her tongue over the head, while
stroking it slowly up and down.
I didn't know how much more of this I could stand as she was
driving me right out of my mind! I whispered to her to turn
around, which she did, as she straddled my neck with her legs.
I begin to probe her moist femininity with my tongue, running
it up and down the furry little crack and finally finding her
clit.
She let out a soft moan as my tongue made contact with her
'little man in the boat'. I continued to munch her fantastic
little muffin until she started to moving her hips into my
face. She started moving faster and faster, finally pressing
her smooth warm thighs to the side of my head in a wonderful
orgasm.
She then turned around and was facing me on top as she guided
my pleasantly sore manhood into her. She run the head of it
along her slit then back to her love channel and finally into
it. She slowly sunk down until I was completely inside her. She
then placed her hands on my chest and began a slow up and down
movement.
God she was tight and felt so good. I started to massaging her
swinging tits in front of me as she began to pick up speed. I
knew I couldn't last much longer as I matched her rhythm.
As the speed increased, the pressure in my balls was becoming
unbearable, and I kept the movement going at a fast pace. I
finally couldn't take it any more and started to cum. I thought
I was going to cum so much that my body would just shrivel up
and blow away like a dried out leave.
Her vagina began to contract spasmodically and she gripped my
manhood with all her might, milking every last drop of semen
from it.
Afterwards, she collapsed on my chest and I just held her close
to me. Her rapid breathing in my ear felt so good. I started to
gently massage her back and neck. Her breathing finally reduced
to a steady rate, she would softly moan when I rubbed a tender
spot. After a few minutes, she was softly snoring at my ear. I
ever so gently wrapped my arms around her and dozed off myself,
completely relaxed.
I jerked awake and startled Sherry as she jerked up right. She
looked down at me and smiled the prettiest smile I had ever
seen. She then kissed my nose and started to get up. As she
did, my dick made a gentle plopping sound as it came out of her
sweet vagina.
I watched her nude body as she walked towards the washbasin;
she was indeed poetry in motion, so beautiful and so graceful.
She cleaned herself up and threw me the washrag, a little wet
with water and semen and I washed 'Mr. Happy' off and began to
get dressed, slow so as not to wake my shoulder up. We had
decided that it was best to leave Tucson by dark so we loaded
the Harley up with bare equipment.
When we were ready, I strapped the .44 on my waist belt and
slung the .30-30 over the Harley's backrest. Sherry came out
with the .357 strapped on and that damn lucky barrel against
her soft, sweet mound. We mounted the bike and headed south to
the Ajo highway. And as I wheeled the big Harley on to
westbound 86 highway, with the sun dipping below the Santa Rosa
mountain range, and the warm desert wind in my face and the
Harley roaring under me and my wonderfully sweet Sherry
snuggled in close behind me and the soft, faint scent of her
womanhood tickling my nose, I suddenly realized just how
wonderfully precious life was.
I silently gave thanks for being allowed to live.