Author; Ace, Storyace

title;  Barefoot in the 80's part 7; burning, blackness, and sexy Sade

Codes; M/F/int, 7,940 words

part 7 of 8

Summery; As the fire rages in the valley and my heart, I have a short but intense encounter with hot black sexy Sade

S end any and all comments to; storyace@hotmail.com

back to; Barefoot in the 80's part 6; Malu returns to me

Part 7; Burning and blackness

Deena ran out of the house with a thin colorful tonga wrapped around her slim body.

"Holy shit!" she wailed, looking towards the huge wall of fire that was heading towards us. The entire sky was black with smoke. "What do we do Adam?"

The uncertainty and confusion fell from my mind; I was suddenly crystal clear, my brain shifting into gear. This was real danger, Trevor was a useless fake, the girls were both toasted. As the only person not intoxicated, it was up to me to take charge.

"Where's Malu?" I demanded.

"I don't know." Deena said.

"Get the dog and get in the range rover." I said, "I'll find her."

Malu was around the side of the villa, staring at the approaching flames. She had a thin blanket wrapped around herself that she was fiddling with.

She saw me, her face twisted in a mixture of fear, guilt, and confusion. She convulsed in tears and fell to her knees.

"Adam!" she sobbed, "I've ruined everything, I'm so sorry, I was so stoned and I don't know why, but Adam I let Trevor...."

"You can tell me everything later." I told her, I grabbed her wrist and hauled her to the car, opened the door and strapped her in.

"Oh Adam, you're SO beautiful." Malu declared with wide tear filled eyes. "I love you so much!"

"Go out the front gate, turn left and cut through the corn field." I told Deena, "When you get to the track on the other side, go right, then take the next left. You can get down to the coast before the fire cuts you off."

"What about you?" Deena asked.

"I have to get up to Dues Germanes." I said. "Do exactly as I told you. Do you understand?"

I looked her in the eyes; she nodded her agreement and started the motor.

I watched until the range rover got to the distant road; I thought it was stuck, but Deena had only stopped to let a few terrified people into the car. Then they were gone.

An arm of the fire was already across the road above the villa. The only way up to the village was the old walking trail; I ran for the Bultaco.

Only the big dirt bike could get through in time. The flames shot high into the otherwise blue Mediterranean sky, soon this would all be gone. The big helicopter had dropped the water and was circling back to take what remained in the swimming pool.

Then I remembered Trevor's hiding place in the hollow tree outside his bedroom. I ran and pulled the cover off. There was a sports bag full of cash, which I slung across my shoulder.

I was well ahead of the fire after a few minutes. The big bike climbed the trail easily and quickly, rattling up the old stone stairway that was set into the hillside a century earlier. I stopped at one of the old ruins and dropped the bag down the well there. Then I went past the old village and up to the Gonzales farm.

"The road is already cut off below Dues Germanes." I told him, "The only way out is the old road over the ridge to Sao Miguel."

"That track is all overgrown, it's not passable." He said.

"I was through there six months ago; there are saplings and bush, but the Bedford will get through."

He looked at the massive old truck with its railroad rail front bumper, then at his animals.

"There are a lot of tourists trapped in Dues Germanes." I reminded him.

"Fucking tourists!" he fumed, "To save them I have to let my animals burn!"

"Get Luisa and the kids into the truck, I'll go on to Dues Germanes and get everyone waiting at the end of the road." I said. "The only other possibility is if they send a helicopter."

"The Authorities don't even know we have foreigners up here, and the Spanish won't send a helicopter for Catalan people." Gonzales said bitterly.  "I can take everyone out with the truck. But my sister Manuela is at the top of the valley with the sheep."

"I'll get her with the bike." I told him.

At the village no one even knew about the fire yet, even though the smoke was already blowing over. I sounded the alarm and soon everyone was telling everyone to get to the square.

I saw that Joanne's house was closed up; which normally indicated that there was no one home, but I thought I should be sure. For all I knew, she might be asleep or ill in bed.

I gave the door a solid shove to break the inner latch, and went into the bedroom I'd shared with her a couple of times.

Joanne wasn't home, but there was a couple using her bed; Transit van John and Sade. I was surprised to see either of them up in Dues Germanes.

John now had a steady Swedish girlfriend, so they were up here using my friend's house as a shag pad.  A dusty mirror lay on the table with a blade.

Sade looked surprised as I walked in, and lifted her face away from John's groin. A lot of cock slid out, I couldn't figure out where it had been at first; I'd never heard of throating.

John turned his head, following his lover's gaze.

"Adam! What the fuck! Get out!"

"There's a huge fire sweeping up the valley. You have about 20 minutes to get to the square, Gonzales is taking everyone out on his truck." I told them.

John wrapped a cloth around his waist. "Gonzales? The tractor fucker?" he asked, leaving without waiting for the answer.

Which left Sade.

"So, the goody goody pool boy." She drawled in her artificially sexy posh British accent, leaning back on the bed.

She was a thin black woman; very black, coal black. Some people said the beetle's song "Sexy Sade" was about her. She had high cheekbones, a flat belly, long shapely smooth legs, and flat little tits that somehow looked ok on her.

She was one of the coke bitches who always hung around Trevor's place, often naked at the pool. She was one of the only black people on our little scene, therefore quite exotic. She always flirted with me [among other people] provocatively, and I generally pretended not to notice. She was the epitome of the person I abhorred, spending days and nights doing nothing but drink, drugs, and sex. I have to admit I found her black skin and downturned mouth attractive in a disturbing sort of way.

She was sexy; it was all affected sexiness, the way she moved and spoke, her meticulous styling and non-stop flirting. She was 35 or 40 years old I figured. I really didn't like her at all.

"Come on, you have to get out of here." I insisted.

"DARling, I'm not going ANYwhere until I've been SEEN to." She lolled, "Especially not because the pool boy is all in a panic. Evacuation? The only thing I'm interested in evacuating is your BALLS, darling."

She was looking down her skinny black frame at me, her long legs spread wide, a black curly bush framing a pink wet open vagina that was just like the many white lady's snatches I'd had the pleasure of knowing. She was very smooth, very black, and I had an urge to just climb on top and fuck her. It had been a long, frustrating day.

"Come on, pool boy." She taunted me, "Give me a good hard quick one, and then I'll do whatever you say."

I'd had plenty of casual sex, but not with women I disliked. There was a fire coming, my girl had betrayed me, I hadn't showered.

Sex in the face of catastrophe; it seems so unlikely, but apparently it happens a lot. Amidst my conflicting impulses, my panic and pain, I dropped my shorts and whipped off my tee-shirt.

"Oh YES!" the hedonistic woman said gleefully, "The good boy meets the BAD girl! What the hell, darling, no pubes! Haha, you look like a baby!"

I climbed between her open thighs and she reached her dark hand down to grab my penis.

"Oh, what a lovely one!" she cooed, "So healthy! No hair, now that's really different. I've never met a boy without pubic hair."

I wondered if she checked everyone she met....

Her grip on my cock was a shock; I was hard in her hand, bulging with need. I knew it was wrong to fuck her, wrong on many levels, but I was going to do it anyway.

She put me there, and I quickly slid my white thing into the cool wet darkness, before I had the chance to think better of it.

The physical sensation was essentially the same as every other woman I'd ever done it with; but this coupling was raw and nasty. Not to mention literally dirty.

She grunted in pleasure and gripped my shoulders with long thin fingers as my cock hit home. I wondered how many men had been in there, and if that made any difference to her reaction.

It felt good; her wet welcoming vagina wrapped around my penis, her smooth dark skin against my body, her hands on my back eased my distress. The pleasure of sex counterbalancing all that was wrong with this terrible day.

"Give it to me, white boy!" she hissed, "Hit me with it!"

I noticed her fancy accent was missing. She suddenly sounded distinctly Caribbean.

I went at her full power; she was wet and ready. She stared at me intently, her eyes as dark as her soul, the whites slightly cloudy but still in sharp contrast to her black complexion. She grinned with white even teeth, a row of gold crowns revealing that she did manage to pay her dental bills somehow.

She heaved below me, long thin limbs wrapping around me like a demon sucubant, intent on pulling the life force from my younger, less polluted body.

Outside, I could hear shouting, perhaps crackling of fire, the ringing of the chapel bell. I ignored it all, and just fucked the hell out of her. All the aggression, anger, and energy that was burning me up was now being harnessed to pound this attractive and repulsive excuse of a woman.

Maybe I would die, maybe we would all die. Maybe this few minutes of sex would cost me my life, or maybe it would make no difference. Either way, I was doing this nasty bitch until my balls contracted.

Sade was coming within a minute; whatever she was, she did enjoy herself being it. She twisted and grunted, gasped and writhed. Her skinny body struggled against me helplessly, but she was no match for my strength, my rage, and my big hard cock.

I wanted to come too, there was no time for fooling around. But I couldn't, I was too horrified with myself, for being where I was and doing who I was doing.

"Oh yes, yes!" she chanted as I went at her harder, "You stink of sweat, clean good boy sweat!" she cried, her mouth reeking of cigarettes and other things.

She lifted her legs, clamped my face between her feet, and laughed. "Sade has skills, darling." She whispered loudly, "Sade knows tricks, Sade is the queen of sex!"

I banged her aggressively, angrily, as if she were responsible for my misfortunes. I mashed her skinny body against the thin mattress, pounding her with my stiff cock, literally bouncing her against the headboard, so I had to pull her back to avoid injuring her.

She screamed and came, and came again, enjoying every iota of my fury.

I needed to come so we could go; I grabbed her face and kissed her, because that usually does the trick for me. Our tongues fought the noble fight, my cock reamed her tight dark snatch, she tightened with another orgasm and I looked into her dark face.

Sade was a very beautiful woman; her shallow cheeks, doe eyes, arched eyebrows, and her smooth dark chocolate complexion. She was of another world, the fancy arrogant money and cocaine crowd, most of whom were faking it and actually had little of either. She was twice my age and of another race too, yet here in this bed at this moment, we were joined, bound together in that most primal, raw, powerful union, her wet vagina squeezing my hard cock as I dominated her, taking momentary possession of the thin black creature, helpless against my young male muscle.

And I felt my balls contract at last.

"Oh what a sweetie you are!" she beamed, still forgetting her accent, "Come wid a kiss, I like dat."

It poured out of me, extinguishing the fire between Sade and I. Shot deep into her drugged out body to our mutual satisfaction, our mutual urgent need.

I like to lie there for a while afterwards and wallow in it all, but clearly there was no time. As I pulled it out of her, she sat up and grabbed it while I was still on my knees. She slid my still-hard cock right down her scrawny black neck. She wrapped one hand around my ass and clamped the other around my balls, her lips right up against my shaved pelvis.

She was speaking truth when she said she had some tricks.... The sensation of my cock in her throat was so wild, I was basically coming again, or I continued coming. I was like a virgin again in the hands of this weird woman.  She looked up at me with wide eyes, her throat contracting around my cock as she squeezed my balls cruelly. 

"You bastard!" John said from behind me. He came in, retrieved his little bag, and ran off again.

My cock was still in the black woman's throat and her finger was pushing at my bung hole. It went into me, my belly turned to jelly, and for several lovely seconds my mind knew no thought. I looked into her dark laughing eyes, and we both knew she'd bettered me. Her handsome dark face owned me, her finger in my ass humiliated me, her throat around my cock worshiped me.

I held her by her black kinky hair, cock pulsing, balls quivering, ass clenching, and wondered if I'd ever see her again, if I'd ever have an orgasm like that again, if I could teach Malu to do this.

I pulled my slackening organ out of her, just as I'd seen John do 10 minutes earlier. I wrapped her in a thin blanket and dragged her out the door. 

Minutes later, I threw a slightly limp Sade onto the back of the farm truck, helped the two old Marias on, and as soon as the heavy vehicle rumbled away, I took the Bultaco up the valley. It was peaceful up there except for the racket from the bike. I had to check each clearing on my way up, and the fire was moving faster and faster, constrained between the steep ridges of the narrow valley.

I saw her, moving up the valley as fast as she could; I rode towards her, the flames close behind me, the roaring impossible heat on my back. I wondered if the time I'd wasted with Sade would now doom us both to a horrible death. I'd never felt regret about having sex before.

"Hold on tight." I told Manuela as she got on, "Stand up when I do, keep your weight in the footpegs and keep your knees bent."

Manuela; my friend's young sister. She was short and slightly heavy. She had thick short jet black hair, and big breasts. We flirted sometimes, I'd even asked her to come out riding with me. But she refused gracefully; she wasn't interested in a foreign hippie boy, I understood and respected that.

She was a good girl, a serious girl. The opposite of the woman I'd been wasting time fucking. Manuela deserved to live.

There was no way she could have outrun the flames on foot; there was no vehicle in the valley that could get up there other than the Bultaco, and no one except me who knew the terrain well enough to dare do it under the circumstances. I'm no hero, I was terrified; I was just doing what I had to do, because at that moment no one else could.

The flames and smoke seemed to fill the entire atmosphere of the planet. We could hear the roar of it, we could feel the enormous heat of it. I took her away from her animals, her home, everything she ever had. But with the rest of her family, she would be alive. If we made it.

I rode only as fast as I had to, one little accident could be the death of us both. We went up through the forest to a disused logging road I knew. We rode on it over the ridge to the next valley and got to a real road; there we ran into a mass of fire trucks and police cars blocking the way.

They ignored Manuela, and I was arrested. They'd been waiting to catch me on that bike for years. Later, when they checked the frame number they found out it was stolen.

Since I was a foreigner, I was sent to Madrid. I was unable to contact anyone. The whole valley was gone, there was no address to write to, no phone to call. The judge just scowled at my excuse. I had no witnesses, the report of my arrest never mentioned Manuela. My state aid lawyer was a joke.

I was charged with receiving stolen goods and illegal immigration, and sentenced to a year in prison.

I'd lost everything I ever loved, I didn't even know for sure whether Gonzales and his load of tourists had gotten out alive. I assumed they had since news reports had said no one was killed.  I knew I'd done what I had to do; Jail and deportation was the price I paid, and I had no regrets. I did my time with pride.

In my crowded jail cell, I closed my eyes and let my mind wander; I steered away from the girls I'd loved and been betrayed by. I thought of Manuela, her big breasts on my back as we rode for our lives. Her hands tight on my chest, her breath in my ear. I imagined what might have been.

My sexual fantasy was mundane; I could see her big dark eyes looking at me all the time, loving me. Holding hands, walking in the cool bright morning sun of our valley.

I imagined marrying her, living with her. Ok, I thought of sex too. Those big breasts, her curvy little body opening up as my cock speared her. I thought of the way she'd look at me, adoringly, lovingly, faithfully as we came together, as I impregnated her.

My dreams weren't of sex, but of love; because at that moment, there wasn't any.

I managed to get a call to my dad in Wisconsin, but he had no Idea where my mother was either. When my sentence was up, I was banned from entering Spain for 5 years and deported to the US.

Part 8; Love and sex X4

This story is fiction. Any similarity to persons living or dead; well, never mind that part.

  S end any and all comments to; storyace@hotmail.com