	             ____________________________
                    |                            |
                  /)|     KRISTEN'S BOOKSHELF    |(\
                 / )|         DIRECTORIES        |( \
              __(  (|____________________________|)  )__
             ((( \  \ >  /_)              ( \  < /  / )))
             (\\\ \  \_/  /                \  \_/  / ///)
              \          /                  \          /
               \      _/                     \_       /
                /    /                         \     \
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

I Fought The Law (MF)
by Writersblocked (writerzblocked@aol.com)


Copyright by Writerzblocked, 2001. All rights, well, you know. 
Repost and archive to your heart's content, just don't charge 
anyone for it or I'll have to send Harry Long after you. You all 
know the rest of the drill by now. I'm not big on headers and/or 
labels, so anyone reposting may feel free to add whatever MF, MM, 
FF stuff they think is necessary. 


{Authors note: We now take a break from hearing Warren Bandan talk 
in order to bring you a totally different point of view - sorta. 
If you don't like it, feel free to ignore it; the bigheaded, 
egocentric, sadistic, big-mouthed jerk will be back in action in a 
month or so. Apologies to MM and CJ - but not
many}


She was wet. 

Wetness dripped from her hair. It ran down her dress, inside and 
out. It clung to her bare feet and gently scattered in all 
directions as she walked. 

But she didn't shiver. Nor were there goose bumps on her arms or 
legs. Or anywhere else on her, for that matter. The outside 
temperature gauge on the BMW read 62 degrees, but she wasn't cold. 

She was hot. In fact, she was very hot, so hot that as they walked 
down the dimly lit corridors of the hospital, Bailey could almost 
see her glow. So hot, that those were Officer Deever's exact words 
to her, actually.

"Geez, Detective, you're HOT," he said as he looked up from his 
chair as she and Bailey approached down the dimly lit corridor. 
The nurse on her knees in front of him didn't look up, she was 
otherwise occupied. 

"By the way... Detective... I really want to thank you for... 
requesting I pull a double tonight," he added, breathlessly, as 
they passed. The nurse on her knees in front of him didn't say 
anything, she was otherwise occupied.

The generator allowed for only two lights in the ceiling of his 
room. The television was silent, the only sound effects provided 
by the storm outside. But it was sufficient. In fact, more than 
sufficient. Thunderstorms don't break for commercials. They also 
occasionally add extra lighting at just the appropriate time. 

Such as when she and Bailey walked into the room. 

Sally jumped at the lighting and thunder, but Dias and his blonde 
boy toy didn't. They were otherwise occupied. Bailey smiled when 
she saw them, they made such a cute couple. Gilbert wasn't there. 
Neither was the LT. Bubbles looked up at them when they entered 
but didn't say anything. Her mouth was otherwise occupied. 

And they ALL knew how Mr. Chuckles felt about interruptions.

Sally took a deep breath as soon as she settled down. "We were 
starting to worry..."

Bailey shook her head and sighed. "You would NOT believe the hoops 
we had to jump through to get here."

Sally was looking past her with wide eyes. "Wow. She's gorgeous! 
So much nicer than this morning."

Bailey nodded. "It's been a looooong day," she half smiled. Then 
she looked over at the bed and then back at Sally. 

The red-haired girl smiled, moved to the bed and playfully tapped 
Bubbles on the shoulder. "My turn!" she giggled, as she bent down 
as Bubbles stood up, adjusted her mini and hair and did some basic 
jaw stretching exercises. 

"This is SOOO cool!" she yelped. "All this thunder and lightning 
and stuff.

It's almost like being INSIDE a cartoon."

Bailey glanced out the window. "It does seem rather appropriate."

Bubbles looked sideways at the bed. "You, like, don't think he..."

Bailey planted a kiss on her forehead. "Eh, somehow, I don't think 
so, kiddo."

"I bet he could if he, like, you know, REALLY put his mind to it."

"Well, I'm not one to discount anything where he's concerned, but 
somehow I think..."

At that exact moment, a huge thunderstrike lit up the room and the 
resulting echoes bounced about for a few moments before the room 
was quiet once again. The two of them glanced nervously towards 
the comatose form on the bed. Dias raised his eyes with them, then 
quickly went back to his business.

"Uh," Bubbles ventured, "maybe we, like, ought to get started," as 
she looked over to the doorway.

She was standing there, unblinking, staring at the form on the 
bed. The floor was wet where she had walked and where she now 
stood, a growing pungent pool of rainwater, urine, sweat and... 
her essence. And while it was impossible to tell the exact 
mixture, only one of the four continued when the others had been 
exhausted. Yet still the pool grew. And expanded. 

Bubbles looked at her curiously. "Is it safe to touch her?" 

"Of course, silly," Bailey replied as she demonstrated by 
caressing her shoulder. "And it feels WONDERFUL!"

Bubbles let out a small but wondrous sigh as she lightly touched 
the other shoulder. "Wow. If it, like, feels this good just to 
TOUCH her..."

"Don't even think about it, kiddo," said Bailey as she pulled one 
side of the gown down by the sleeve, "help me get her started."

She stood there, silent and staring straight ahead, as they pulled 
the gown down to her feet. There was a huge hole in the front of 
what once appeared to be black panties. Bubbles squinted and 
pinched her nose.

"Ew, how ghetto!" She reached out to touch what was left of them, 
then drew back with a shiver as all the hair on her tiny body 
suddenly straightened and fell. "What happened?"

"All the way from the club here, she couldn't keep her hands off 
herself," Bailey reached up and started wringing the rainwater 
from her hair, which was still in the ponytail. "Even from the 
driver's seat I could feel it."

Bubble's eyes grew wide as she took her hands and, basking in the 
shared warmth, gently peeled away what was left of the underwear. 
"Wow! She's dripping like CRAZY!" Her left hand suddenly went down 
inside the front of her skirt... "This is soooo freaky, Bailey, my 
hairs are all, like, jumping around!"

Bailey only smiled and continued to towel dry the hair, which she 
had released from the ponytail.

"Do you think we ought to, you know, dry down here?"

"Hell if I know," came the reply. "But probably better just to 
leave it alone." She ran the towel gently over the rest of the 
body.

"Yeah," Bubbles mused as she playfully touched different parts of 
the body, wallowing in the different sensations, "wouldn't want 
to, you know, mess anything up." 

"Hehehehe, when I touch here," she giggled as she caressed the 
left knee, "my right nip gets all tingly." 

"All right, you." Bailey smiled and snapped the towel in her 
general direction. "It's not supposed to be THAT much fun."

"Pooh, can't you, like, hear him laughing?" Bubbles looked up at 
her, puzzled.

Bailey returned the look. "Uh, no. Am I supposed to?"

For a second, Bubbles broke out in one of her patented pouts, "Oh, 
sorry," then quickly smiled and stood up. "Maybe someday."

"Hmm," Bailey mused as she dropped the towel. 

The shorter girl stepped back and put a hand to her chin, changing 
the subject. "I still can't, like, believe, how much younger she 
looks in just, like, half a day."

Bailey stood beside her and put her arm around the shorter girl's 
shoulder. "It certainly is remarkable."

"I wonder if he could, like, do that for me," Bubbles sighed. 
"Well, in twenty years, I mean."

"After the past week, girlfriend, I'll believe most anything where 
he's concerned." Bailey bent down and kissed her passionately on 
the lips and they remained that way for a few moments, the only 
sounds coming from the rain on the window and the slight, wet, 
slippery sounds coming from the direction of the bed.

Suddenly, yet another tremendous thunderstrike shook the room. 
Dias looked up from his boyfriend's cock. "Get on with it, 
already."

Bailey grumbled and shot him a nasty glance. "OK, loverboy, but 
the next time he gets himself in a fix, YOU do all the work and WE 
get to lay around making love."

She waited patiently as Bubbles and Bailey each took an arm and 
pulled her slowly towards the bed. Bailey smiled down at her. 
"Believe me, this is going to be MUCH better than cigarettes."

They reached the side of the bed and Sally looked up from Mr. 
Chuckles and took one, long last tour before lifting her head from 
the bed. Immediately, without prompting, she bent down and took 
him, swallowing greedily. Her left hand, then her right went down 
to her cunt. Bailey and Bubbles stepped aside quickly as her 
elbows swung wildly back and forth, her entire hands seemingly 
moving in and out in rapid succession in rhythm with her now-
pistoning head.

"Wow!" was all Bubbles could say as her hands slowly inched down 
her body. Her hairs were starting to move again.

Next to her, Sally found fingers doing likewise, crawling down the 
front of her flowered print sundress on their own. "Maybe we'll 
see him cum in her mouth."

"Oh, like that would be SO cool!" Bubbles was caressing her 
breasts with the other hand now.

Bailey was going to reply, but bit her lip instead as she gazed in 
wonder at the sex machine by the bed. Instinctively, her hand went 
down to her panties, then came back out. She sighed softly, 
finally, and backed towards the doorway.

"Something wrong, lover?" Issued a soft, low familiar voice from 
outside the doorway. "I've heard that sigh a hundred times."

"Liz?" she asked without turning around.

"It's the same exact sigh I hear just before I hang up the phone," 
came the voice, now a breathy whisper in her right ear.

"You shouldn't be here."

"Neither should you."

"It's dangerous."

"No, it's not," the voice chuckled. "There's a sleeping policeman 
right outside the room."

"It's not something to joke about."

"You're right, it's not." The voice became a tongue that lapped at 
her ear. "I don't know what's going on and I'm not sure I WANT to 
know what's going on."

A bare arm snaked underneath Bailey's right, then another under 
her left. "All I know that I want to be anywhere YOU are, Dufus." 
The arms came together, pressing, caressing, each hand cupping a 
breast.

"You're a fool, Miss Elizabeth Guidry."

"I'm YOUR fool, Miss Bailey Davenport."

Bailey grabbed one of the hands and brought it to her lips as she 
felt a different wetness, a very, very unfamiliar wetness. "Only 
if he wills it," she said softly. Sadly. 

"Only if..."

Another thunderstrike, further away this time, lit up the room. 
The lights flickered. 

Bubbles and Sally Hooper watched in awe as the sex machine once 
known as Amanda Tuck jumped onto the bed and impaled herself on 
Mr. Chuckles. Immediately, the room seemed warmer, the temperature 
rising with each and every upward movement of her buttocks as she 
slid up and down. Even Dias and his partner noticed and stopped 
their lovemaking to gawk. 

Suddenly, Bailey began to squint as she watched. "What, the hell?" 
Behind her, Liz turned her attention up from her lover's 
breasts...

"hmm?"

"You don't see it?"

"All I see is you." She kissed her neck. "Oh, yeah, and two crazed 
weasels in a hospital bed."

"You don't feel it?"

"Of course I do, Dufus. I've been feeling it all fucking day." She 
squeezed her breasts again. "Or wanting to."

"No. Damn it, Liz. You mean you really CAN'T see it?"

"No, what the HELL are you talking about?" Her hands fell down 
from Bailey's breasts to the sides of her dress and crawled into 
the slits to hide from the warmth growing in the room.

Sally and Bubbles were on their knees now, knees spread wide. 
Sweat was beading up, collecting, and running in patterns across 
their foreheads, cheeks, dripping slowly from lips, noses, chins. 
An unseen wind, warm and moist and tender whipped around, above 
and under the bed and throughout the room, weaving back and forth 
between the bodies, lovingly touching each and every mind and soul 
in the room. 

Save one.

Elizabeth Guidry's hands reached their destination, but suddenly 
she pulled them back and out of Bailey's dress, crying in agony, 
wringing them together and howling in a pitiful mixture of pain 
and rejection. She fell to the floor and writhed on her side, 
cradling her hands under her chin, crying. 

But as she sobbed, alone and weakly in the dim light, she was 
matched and overpowered by five voices crying in pleasure. Her 
lover had fallen to her knees in a circle with the others. Through 
her tears, she could see the two bodies on the bed seemingly 
moving as one now, but she paid them only a moment's heed. Her 
eyes were, as always, on the one. 

Then, as quickly as the wind had come, it left. And as quickly as 
the voices cried, they ceased. Five bodies lay in the room, 
seemingly lifeless. And the other...

Elizabeth Guidry struggled to her feet, then fell back to her 
knees. Her hands hung limp and lifeless at her sides. She managed 
to raise her head to search for her lover. On her knees, she 
shuffled doggedly towards Bailey Davenport. 

She came within two feet. Just a little more than the distance 
between the average person's mind and their genitals. Then she 
looked up. 

Liz Guidry was alone.

With the devil.

"Ain't I a stinker?"



{Author's note: "Tuck Amuck" is dedicated to Downing Street, who 
has always made it seem too damned easy. "You da man!"}
 
"Write what you want, how you want, and don't worry about the rest 
of the world. If you do it long enough, eventually they'll catch 
up."
