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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  	The 'Bookshelf collection' offers a very wide variety of  o
o  stories. They have been submitted by people from all over the  o
o  world.  Also from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups).   There is no  o
o  particular  order  other than offering them to you in  alpha-  o
o  betical directories.                                           o
o  	I don't believe in categorizing things. "I don't want to  o
o  be typed therefore I don't type things myself."  I think it's  o
o  a lot more fun to browse around and find  'little'  surprises  o
o  that you might not have even thought of looking for.           o
o   	Lest we forget!!!   This story was produced as adult en-  o
o tertainment and should not be read by minors.                   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

My Friends the Allens -- Black Cat
by Mark Aster

= = =
Note: this story takes place in a fantasy world where
vaccines against AIDS and pregnancy are safe and common,
and casual sex with strangers is not suicidally stupid.
The real world, sadly, is not like this: so don't try
this at home, folks.  Also, it goes without saying that
the narrator was not being really clever to put an
unknown drug into his system just because a 19-year-old
girl batted her eyelashes at him.  As you'll see.
= = =

Friday, September 13, 8:45pm

Black Cat.  Just a little something extra on your sugar cube.

I don't normally do drugs, outside of sugar and caffeine and
alcohol and cannabis and chocolate and sex.  I was reluctant
to try the sugar cubes Marilyn had brought over to the Allen's
suite, but Julie was working hard to convince me.

"Marilyn does only the best stuff, really!"  Nineteen-year-old
Julie was wearing a tight t-shirt and cutoff jeans.  It was a hot
late summer evening, and we had the windows open.  Marilyn sat
by the window, a pale chubby woman with dangerous-looking dark
eyes, who I'd first met just an hour before.  She smiled, and
tossed a cube from hand to hand.

"No side effects at all, you're saying?" I asked.

"Well," said Julie, "sometimes you have funny dreams the night
after, and sometimes a little hangover the next day, but it's
worth the trip, really!  It'll be fun.  No flashbacks, no instant
death, none of that."  And she wriggled her lithe young body
persuasively.  "Makes some people really horny, too," she grinned.

Julie and I each took a cube from Marilyn, who was going to stay
straight to maintain the set.  "Just slip it under your tongue,"
she said.  I did; the sugar cube tasted like sugar, with a little
bitter tang under it.  "Why's it called Black Cat?" I asked.
Marilyn just shrugged.  Her breasts bobbed under her thin cotton
tent dress.  "Now just sit quietly and look around; you should
start to feel it in about ten minutes."

I sat on the couch, and slipped my arm around Julie, who cuddled
up next to me.  I thought about how the men of some island
tribes show no effects from alcohol until they pass out cold,
while your typical college freshman loses all self-control after
one vodka.  So much depends on what you're expecting.  "Does it
make YOU horny?" I asked Julie.  She grinned up at me.  "Doesn't
everything?" she said, and put her arms around my neck.  I kissed
her soft pink lips, and she opened her mouth.

"Very good," Marilyn commented from her chair, "excitement brings
the high on faster, and makes the trip deeper."

As Julie's tongue slid over my teeth, and her hands began to roam
over my body, I forgot to wonder if I was feeling the drug yet.
I helped her pull her t-shirt off over her head, and took her
lovely small breasts in my hands.  Licking and kissing her erect
nipples, it did occur to me that a stranger sitting there watching
would normally have mattered to me, but the thought was quickly
swept away.  As I rolled one nipple between my fingers, and sucked
the other between my lips, Julie closed her eyes and sighed.  One
of her hands slid up my thigh, and she stroked my growing erection
through my pants.  My memory of the night starts to get spotty
right about there.

Naked, I'm sitting on the couch with my legs spread.  Julie is
crouching on the floor in front of me, making love to my cock.
She holds it in both hands and strokes up and down; she runs
her tongue over it in big licks, like a kid with a lollipop.
She rubs it over her face and her tits, leaving a trail of
pre-cum cock-tears behind it.  Her breathing is fast and hot.
I look down at her from far above, wondering why her skin is
so cold.  Her hands and body are like ice.  When she opens her
mouth and slides me into her, it is like masturbating with a cold
mitten.  Except that it makes my cock throb and swell, and sends
arctic streams of pleasure up my spine.  I stare at the ceiling
as Julie pants and groans, painting herself with my penis.

I am on my knees, watching Julie juggle pieces of a mirror.
Marilyn's purse has fallen off the table, and purse-things lie all
over the floor.  The mirror has broken off of a compact, and Julie
is tossing the biggest piece from hand to hand.  Be careful, I
think to myself, as the shards cut tiny bloody gashes in her palms.
Her hair has turned jet-black in the sunset light.  Looking down,
I notice that Marilyn is on all fours on the floor in front of
me, her dress pushed up over her naked thighs and ass.  I part
the big soft pillows, and slide my stiff cock into her pussy from
behind.  She purrs and pushes back against me, her tail raised
high in the air.  My cock slides easily in and out of her cunt.
She moans.  Julie throws the mirror into the air again, and
misses it coming down.

Julie's legs are wrapped around my head, her smooth young thighs
against my cheeks.  My nose is pressed into her mons as I run my
tongue over her clit, and two fingers slowly in and out of her
pussy.  She gasps and writhes and squeezes my head between her
legs.  I stick my fingers deeply into her, and close my mouth
over her left thigh.  The firm softness of her flesh crushes me
like a wall; I bite her with all my teeth, and she curses as she
comes, hitting my head with her fists.  I move my mouth back to
her clit, and carefully count her pubic hairs as she laughs and
screams.

In the pattern of the grain on the wooden door, some very small
people have built three cities.  I stand very close to the door,
looking down at the middle city.  The city is sprawling and
complex.  It terrifies and fascinates me.  On the road out of
the city, out into the fields and farms on the way to the red
city on the left, two men are walking, holding umbrellas over
their heads.  They get to a small cluster of houses set among
the fields.  They go into a house, without closing their
umbrellas.  I turn away from the door, filled with dread.
Marilyn is lying on the couch, her cotton dress up over her
head tangling her arms.  Her body is naked.  Julie is eating
her.  Marilyn, I think to myself, is not doing her job.  She is
having orgasms rather than making sure that Julie and I have
good trips.  I will punish her by memorizing her nipples.

Marilyn's breasts are wide and pale, flattened out on her chest
where she lies back on the couch, her moans muffled by the dress
up around her head.  Excited as she is, her nipples are soft
and relaxed.  I lick and suck them, exploring every groove and
pore.  They gradually come erect.  Tomorrow I will make plaster
sculptures of her breasts during breakfast.  As I suck Marilyn's
nipples, I stroke her stomach with my left hand.  I feel the
deeply-buried muscles below her navel start to tense.  As she
comes with our mouths hot and hungry on her body, her moans
become high giddy meows.  Julie takes my hand and squeezes it,
her face still buried in Marilyn's fur.

Julie and I are relaxing on the couch under a blanket.  Marilyn
is picking up salt shakers, putting things back into her purse.
She is leaving.  "Glad you kids had a good time!" she says, "You
might not want to go to sleep for an hour or two yet, but
otherwise you're down safely."  She goes out the door.  Screw
that; Julie and I look at each other, and then scramble into
the bedroom and under the sheets.  We cuddle and kiss until we
fall asleep.

The middle of the night.  Julie lies on top of me, moving her hips
and sliding her wet pussy up and down my cock.  Her lips are by my
ear.  "God, I'm going to come, oh God, oh God." she whispers.  I
thrust into her more deeply.  I try not to come myself, because
my semen might hurt her.  My cock is hard and painful.  The door
opens, and something large and black pads in on quiet paws.  I
raise up my head.  "Marilyn?" I say.  "She's gone," gasps Julie,
"lie down and fuck me; oh cat you're so big oh so fucking DEEP."
She draws me further and further into her, and as she comes the
sweet pulsing of her cunt brings me off against my will.  My
cum shoots into her; something jumps up on the bed, and silky
fur covers my mouth and nose.  The cat smothers me as I come,
and I sink back into sleep.

I am in a small room.  The ceiling of the room is a tent of green
canvas.  It moves noisily in the wind.  There is a wooden bench
on one side of the room.  The room smells of piss.  I want to lie
down, but I can't.  The short woman in the tight dress sitting on
the bench is Mrs. Hale, my eighth-grade History teacher.  All the
boys in the class have wet dreams about Mrs. Hale.  Every day at
lunch, we all talk about what she was wearing that day, and how
it might come off.  Mrs. Hale is at the blackboard, explaining
something about the Spanish Armada.  I walk to her, and unzip the
front of her dress.  She stops speaking, and kisses me hard and
deeply on the mouth, standing on tiptoe to reach me, her breasts
spilling out of her dress and pressing against my chest.  I take
them in my hands, bury my head between them, kiss the soft hot
skin between the mounds.  She continues lecturing, but with her
hands she offers her nipples one after the other to my mouth,
and I suckle them, and run my tongue over each pink aureola.
I slide my hands up her thighs, and her skirt bunches up in her
lap.  She spreads her legs, and my fingers caress her warm pussy.

"Jefferson Davis," she says, "the Treaty of Utrecht was the
immediate cause of the War of 1812.  I want you to fuck me until
I scream, you bastard.  Haven't I taught you anything?"

Mrs. Hale is naked on her desk, her legs spread wide.  She leans
back, propped on her arms, her long hair hanging down, her big
breasts pointing at the ceiling.  I push my cock into her, and
she moans.  We fuck for days, my cock huge and aching, her mouth
gaping as she shouts obscenities.  I fondle and squeeze her tits
with both hands; her flesh is soft and hot.  The hair around her
pussy is jet black.  I watch my rock-hard shaft plunging in and
out of her, and I notice that with each thrust her pubic hair
becomes thicker and spreads out.  As I come, her body jerking
hot streams of semen out of me, and she screams in pleasure,
the hair spreads up over her breasts.  Her ears are black and
pointy.  Her fur strokes my body erotically, but as she opens
her mouth and her sharp teeth gleam in the light, I see that she
is really scaled, and snakes have no cunts.  Just as it is about
to strike, Abraham Lincoln coils the snake, now grey and fetid,
back into his mouth.  I gasp desparately for air, and manage to
shake myself awake.

I tossed and turned for the rest of the night, and at dawn I snuck
out of bed and dragged myself back to my own apartment to suffer
alone.  I had the mother of all hangovers: my head stuffed with
old socks, my eyes dripping Elmer's Glue.  For a week, my mouth
tasted unimaginably bad.  I was impotent for five days, because
every time I started to get it up, Abraham Lincoln's long grey
tongue would flash in front of my eyes.

A few weeks later, Julie called to say that Marilyn was coming
over again with some really good stuff.  Did I want to try it?
"Maybe next time," I said, and crossed my fingers.


My Friends the Allens -- Black Cat
by Mark Aster
The End

