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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 -- Post-coital
by Mark Aster
http://users.aol.com/myfrthal/

= = =
Note: this story contains graphic accounts of sexual
relations between consenting adults.  If you are a minor,
a U.S. Senator, or anyone else whose brain implodes
when exposed to such things, stop reading now, and go
take a cold shower.
= = =

Julie screamed as she came, arching her back and opening her
mouth wide, pressing her hips up against me and forcing my
spurting cock even deeper into herself.  I grunted and
groaned as my body emptied itself into her, waves of
pleasure washing through me, my body on automatic,
my mind shorted out.  She screamed again, and then
drew a long shuddering breath, pulled my head down,
and kissed me long and hard on the mouth.

I collapsed onto her and lay there, spent, one hand under her
back and the other in between us, cupping one small delicious
breast.  My cock slowly deflated and slipped out of her.  She
hugged me, and I felt her body shake slightly.  I lifted my
head to look at her, and saw that she was crying.  She looked
into my eyes and smiled, sniffling, one tiny tear poised on
the tip of her nose.

"Why does sex make me sad?" she asked, still smiling, still
crying.  I rolled off of her and put my arms around her, and
she cuddled into my shoulder.

"The French have a word for it," Pat remarked, lying naked
beside us on the bed, wiping mixed love-juices off the long
round pregnant slope of her belly with a damp washcloth.
Some weeks it seems like half the laundry is washcloths.
"Tristesse."

"That just means 'sadness'," I said, stroking Julie's hair.
"Do they have a different word for sadness after sex?"

"Shut up," Julie whispered in my ear, and turned her face up
to me.  She opened her mouth and kissed me, sliding her tongue
in between my lips.  I groaned and pressed against her, and
felt the wetness of her tears on my cheeks.  She opened her
thighs again and the delicate fur of her vulva rubbed against
my leg.  I could feel my cock beginning to stir again.

Out in the living room, the door slammed.

"Halloo!"  A man's voice, one I'd never heard before.  "Any
nubile women in residence?"

Julie was suddenly out of my arms, bolt-upright in the bed,
and then leaping, naked and pink and lovely, out of it.

"Daddy!" she shrieked, and shot through the door, "Oh, Daddy
Daddy Daddy!"

Pat looked over at me and grinned.  She turned onto her side,
her abdomen round and perfect.  Someone inside kicked, and a
tiny round hill flowed across her taut belly.  "You'll like
Daddy," she said in a voice like honey.  I looked for my
shorts.

Mr. Allen, Pat and Julie's father, is a medium-sized man, with
a room-filling voice, longish salt-and-pepper hair, and a neat
white beard.  As the two of us strolled through Carlsen Park and
up the mountain, to look down at the city spread out like a map,
we talked about the weather, women, babies, education, politics.
Stuff.

"It's OK, you know," he said when we reached the overlook,
perching himself on a rock.

"It's OK?"

"It's OK that you've been sleeping with the girls, and that
Patty's going to have your children.  I like you."  He paused
and looked out over the city.  "And more important, they trust
you.  Not many men Patty'd trust that much."

"I love them -- her -- uh, very much, sir."

"Love's good, son, love's good.  But it takes more than love."
And his eyes caught and held me, just like his daughters'.  I've
never thought of men as having bedroom eyes.  "Sometimes it
takes -- well!  I don't want to spoil it for you."  The wind
played with his hair.  "One more thing..."

"Sir?"

"You don't have to keep off of the girls just because their
old man's around.  Does my heart good to hear them enjoying
themselves.  Julie still a screamer?"

I smiled and got out the sandwiches.

The next morning I woke up when Kate, Pat and Julie's mother's
younger sister, came through the bedroom on her way to the
shower.  She was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt that stuck
to her body.  Her eyes caught mine for an instant, and she
winked and grinned.  Lying there waking up, I listened to the
shower and thought of Kate's body naked under the water.  When
she came out, she was wrapped in a bathrobe, rubbing a towel
in her hair.

"Good morning!" she said cheerfully, "Hope I didn't wake the
Daddy too early."

"Didn't even know you were in town, Kate," I said, moving over
to make room on the side of the bed.  Just in case she felt
like sitting down.  "Old home week?"

She smiled and perched next to me. "The clan always gathers
for a birth.  Especially a birth like this one.  Any day now,
eh?"  And she put down the towel.  Her legs were long and
tan and trim, with a few blue veins curling here and there.
I reached an arm up casually toward her, but she laughed and
got up.  At the door, she turned and winked again.  I stretched,
and rubbed my stiffening cock up against the sheets.

"I think you have a crush on Kate," Julie teased that night,
sitting at the vanity in the master bedroom, combing out her
hair.  I admired her curves through the thin purple camisole.

"He's never forgotten that weekend in Boston." Pat said,
lying back on the bed, her thighs well apart, her breasts
round and full.  I lay down next to her, thinking of Kate's
breasts under my hands, warm and slippery with sunblock, and
Kate's lips sliding down around my cock, her mouth on mine as
we fucked beside the pool, in the sun.  My cock pulsed.  Pat
grinned.

"I wonder what she and Daddy are doing right now, up there in
the guest room," said Julie, putting down the comb and standing
up, smoothing the camisole down over her stomach, the tops of
her thighs.

"Uncle Rob would go crazy if he thought they were still lovers."

"Uncle Rob's not here," Julie replied, sitting on the bed at
Pat's feet, holding her sister's hand.  "I'll bet Daddy's
kissing her.  She's so pretty."

Pat drew Julie's hand to her mouth, and kissed the fingers.
My mouth felt dry, and I licked my lips.

"Do you think they'll make love, Julie?  Is Daddy going to
undress Aunt Kate, and take her to bed with him?  Spread her
thighs apart, and touch her, and kiss her and laugh with
her while she comes?"

Julie's hands moved down over Pat's breasts, and she bent over
and kissed Pat lightly on each nipple.  Pat closed her eyes and
opened her thighs an inch further.  My cock was stiff and
throbbing, and I ran my fingers over the smoothness of the
head.  Julie kissed Pat's stomach, kissing her sister and
the babies inside, and then moved her head down to Pat's
mons.

"Ooh, Little Sister," Pat breathed.  Julie began to kiss
and lick at her thighs, her dark swollen labia.  Pat's
hips rotated slowly on the mattress.  Julie was crouching
now, and the camisole rode up over the bottom of her tight
little ass.  Warm wet sounds came from between Pat's legs,
where Julie's mouth and tongue played.

"Aaaaaahhh..." Pat let out a long breath, and then gasped
as Julie's tongue darted between her labia, and teased the
hood of her clit.  I got up from the bed and walked over
behind Julie, touched her ass with one hand, slid two fingers
in between her thighs from behind.  I could smell the wetness
of her pussy.

As Pat writhed and moaned on the bed under Julie's mouth,
I slipped my cock under the camisole and rubbed it over
the closed lips of Julie's cunt.  She purred and wriggled
her ass, and spread her legs further apart.  I pushed
forward, opened her, pushed into her, and fucked her from
behind as she brought her sister to orgasm, back arched
and breasts heaving.  Julie's body rocked back against me,
and I groaned.  One hand on each of Pat's still-spread
thighs, Julie threw back her head and shouted as I
stroked in and out of her.  As the cum built up in my
balls, she came, pressing herself desparately back
against me, sinking her fingers into Pat's flesh, and
screaming delicate delighted screams into the musky air.

"Has he come yet?" Pat whispered as Julie's screams died
down.

"Not yet," Julie breathed, "not yet; he's big and hard and
ahhhh and still deep inside me."

"Can I have him?" Pat asked.  Julie looked up at her,
questioning.  "I think," said Pat, "I think it'll be my
last chance for awhile."

I gasped as Julie slid herself forward, and my cock came
out of her soaking pussy with a soft pop.  She took me
by the hips and moved me forward over her sister, and
her small soft hand guided my cock into Pat's cunt.  Pat
looked me deep in the eyes.

"I love you," she whispered.

"I love you," I said with the last of my reason, and I
pushed my cock deep into her, to nudge against the gravid
fullness of her womb.  My eyes closed and my mouth opened,
and without meaning to my hips began to move up and down,
and faster and faster my cock moved in Pat, and she moaned
and cried out and came again, and my cock ached and throbbed
and slid and finally exploded, more raw streams of hot cum
pouring into the sweet depths of her body, her swollen belly
pressed against my stomach, her face incredibly beautiful
when I finally opened my eyes.

"Oooohh..." she said.  And then her eyes got very wide.  "OH!"
she said, and my cock slid out of her, and a flood of clear
creamy liquid came out after it.  More, much more, than I
had put in.

"What is it?" I asked.  I probably shouted.  "What did I do?"

Pat smiled, happy-excited-nervous.  "My water's broken,
stupid.  It's OK, it's supposed to.  Julie, call the midwife.
You, get the suitcase and the car keys!"  As Julie stood up,
I heard Kate coming down the stairs.

"aaaahhhh aaaaaahhhh aaaaAAAAHHH!"

"Breathe, Pat, breathe!  Hold it, wait for it..."

"AAAAAARRRHRHHRHHRHRHHH!"

"Get ready to push!  One!  Two!  Three PUSH!"

"NNNNNNNNNNNN!!!"

"Oh, yeah, oh yeah, it's a head!  We've got a head!"

"One more, baby, one!  two!  th--"

"NNNNNNNNNNNNN AAAAAAHHHH!!"

"Yes, yes, beautiful, YES!"

"Oh yeah, YEAH!"

"wwwgggmm.  wwMM!  WAH!  WAAAHH!   WAAAAAAAAHH!!"

"Oh, God, oh God she's perfect, she's beautiful!"

"oooohhhhh..."

I know the way I'm writing it you probably think it sounded
like Pat was coming.  But it didn't sound like that at all.
Well, not much.

"One down, one to go."

"How long until the other, um..."

"AAAAHHHHHHH!!"

"About fifty seconds, I'd say.  Breathe, Pat, breathe!"

"NNNNNNNNN!"

"Oh, my God!"

"WAAAAAAAHHHH!"

My God, they're so beautiful.  So beautiful.  Even the light
in the birthing room loves them; warm glows of light gather
around their tiny heads, flow over their bodies.  Maybe
it's just Pat's eyes.  Maybe I'm just crazy.  I know I'm
crazy.  God, I love them.

We finally let them take the kids off to the nursery so Pat
could sleep.  Julie and I sank into big soft chairs in the
waiting room, opening our eyes once in awhile to grin huge
stupid grins at each other, and eventually falling asleep.
I dreamed about babies, about Pat.  I dreamed about Julie
seducing a passing intern, his slim young cock slipping easily
into her where she lay wide-thighed on the chair.  She looked
awfully smug in the morning, but I didn't ask.

Phone calls, hospital food, Kate and Mr. Allen and Jake and
Tanya and Midori and Alani.  A telegram from Daphne in Paris.
One very long international call.  "God, Mom, Hi!"  And lots
of tears and laughter, and all males shooed from the room.

Martin and Kayla Newhouse, Kayla nicely rounded with pregnancy
herself.  Sondra Hernandez in full cop uniform, stopping by on
her way off beat to kiss all and sundry and tickle the twins'
feet.  Julie very solemnly kissing one tiny foot, then another,
then moving up and kissing her sister on the mouth, long
and soft and lingering, her eyes full of tears again.

Now we're home.  The twins still sleep most of the time, but
we're expecting the sleepless nights to start soon.  The light
still loves them.  Across the room in the bed, in the dimness,
one little mouth attached to each of the big warm nipples, Pat's
arms already practiced holding one to each breast, pale nimbuses
surround them.  Who are they?  Who is this woman that suckles
them?  Who is this man collapsed here on the couch?  She looks
up at me and smiles, and I remember.


My Friends the Allens -- Post-coital
by Mark Aster
The End

