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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 -- Do You Want It?
by Mark Aster

= = =
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.
= = =

There's an old badly-maintained footbridge out on the North
Side, at the end of Phelps Avenue.  It crosses a rather deep
wooded cut in the hills, with a small stream at the bottom.
I like to walk there, especially around sunset, and stand on
the bridge and think.  It's always deserted, and especially
in the autumn and especially just at dusk, there's a calm
contemplative wind that blows there.

Sounds float out from the city, and as the sun sets it hits
the apartment tower beyond the crest of the hill, a bright
brick reminder that this spot is just a temporary forgetfulness
of the city's, that it'll be swallowed up before long.  But in
the meantime the crumbling concrete sidewalk and the ancient
steel bridge over the stream are a pocket of almost wilderness.

I was standing there on an unseasonably warm afternoon in late
winter, staring pensively down at the brown ground and the bare
grey trees, when a low female voice said "Hi!" behind me.  I
turned around.

"Oh, hi, Tanya!"  Tanya is a friend of Julie's.  We'd met
socially, and I'd admired her from a distance, but somehow we'd
never gotten to know each other.  "I didn't know anyone else
ever came down here."

"Oh, sure," she said, "I use it as shortcut back from the gym."
She put her gym bag down on the cracked pavement, and I let my
eyes wander over her.  She looked like someone who works out;
her body fairly radiated fitness and health.  From her sandaled
feet, up her long slender legs, her wide hips and big lush
breasts in a short cotton dress, she was a picture of young
healthy blonde animal.

We both stood for awhile, leaning on the cold rusty railing and
looking down at the stream as the sun sank slowly west.  A flash
of white caught my eye down in the trees.  Below us, probably
sixty feet away, a woman was sitting on a rock, reading.  She
was young, probably twenty, with deep brown skin, black hair
falling around her face in thick masses of curl, wearing a
long white dress with buttons down the front, and sandals like
Tanya's.  The hand not holding the book was in her lap.  I
got a glimpse of bare brown leg, and I had just realized what
the woman was actually doing when Tanya spoke.  "Isn't she
pretty?  Must be a hot story she's reading!"  I looked at Tanya,
then back at the woman lazily stroking herself on the rock.
"Uh, yeah.  I guess, umm..."

Tanya chuckled.  "Do you want it?" she asked.

"Sorry?!" I said, turning my head, startled, to face her.

She said it again, or rather she whispered too low to hear, just
moving her red lips and her pink tongue to frame the words.

"Do you want it?"

I looked away from her, back at the woman on the rock.  As
I watched, she slipped off her sandals, and began unbuttoning
her dress.  She did it slowly; the fabric fell farther open with
every button.  She had nothing on underneath.

"Come on," Tanya said, low and hoarsely, and her hand crept in
between my legs, and she rubbed me softly until my penis was
stiff.  The woman below us moved her dress out from under
her, so it draped down her shoulders and over the rock behind
her.  Her slim brown ass and long naked legs pressed against the
stone; it must have been cold on her skin.  She lay back and
spread her thighs slowly apart.

Tanya also slipped out of her sandals, standing barefoot, her
strong feet on the cold pavement.  Then she reached up under the
short skirt of her dress, and took off her white thong panties,
tossing them on top of her gym bag.  She leaned on the railing,
facing away from me, watching the brown woman in the woods.

I ran my hands up the backs of Tanya's legs as the woman began
to touch herself.  She gently moved one hand down between her
thighs, and the other played over her small dark breasts.  The
cheeks of Tanya's ass were warm and solid; as I slid my hands
under her skirt, a flock of small loud birds went by overhead,
their wings cracking loudly in the reddening light.  Tanya
arched her back and pressed herself against me.

Below us, the woman had both hands on her breasts now, pulling
her nipples and squeezing the soft flesh.  Her eyes were closed,
her hips gently beginning to rock.  The wind moved her hair
softly around her face.  A gust flipped Tanya's skirt up onto
her back as I undid my pants and freed my hardening cock.  I
could smell the hot musty scent of her sex.

Her thighs were warm and smooth around me as I slid in between
her legs from behind.  The hair of her cunt tickled my shaft,
and I felt the wetness of her spreading over me.  As I pressed
my cock in between her labia and slowly penetrated her, she
threw back her head and sighed loudly, a long whispering moan
that seemed to echo off the pavement and vanish among the trees.
The woman on the rock, hands still caressing her own breasts,
opened her eyes and looked up, directly at us.  As I began to
thrust slowly in and out of Tanya's vagina, the woman's deep
brown eyes held me for long seconds.  Then she moved her hands
down her body, down to the triangle of tightly-curled black hair
where her thighs met.  She closed her eyes.

After that first moan, Tanya and I were nearly silent as we
coupled on the bridge.  Only her hands on the rail clenched
and loosened as I moved inside her, her knuckles turning white
and her head sometimes thrown back, sometimes bent down between
her arms.  She never turned to look at me; if her eyes were
open, they must have been on the woman below us, who now had
two fingers busy in her cunt, her legs spread wide apart on
the stone, her ass bouncing briefly up and falling back as
her body bucked against her hand.

Tanya took one hand from the railing and reached down between
her thighs, gently stroking herself as my cock moved in and
out of her.  Then I moved my hand there, brushing the bare skin
of her stomach with my thumb, and rubbing her clit with two
fingers.  She wrapped both hands around the railing again, and
began to rock her body back harder against me, arching her back
and thrusting with her ass, forcing me deeper and deeper into
herself as she stared silently downwards.

On the rock, the brown woman came violently and for a long time,
her lean body arched so that her ass and her cunt were raised
up, her hands between her legs working her cunt and her clit
to prolong the climax.  As I watched her come, I felt my own
orgasm approaching, and I shut my eyes.  My cock stretched and
swelled deep in Tanya's gushing pussy, and I thrust into her
as she silently slammed her hips back against me.  Tanya came
suddenly and hard, her head thrown back, mouth open to the wind,
the walls of her cunt gripping my cock in a hot maddening kiss.
I groaned and, grabbing her bare hips in my hands, thrust myself
far into her, three times in quick succession, my skin slapping
against her ass, my cock impossibly hard, and then I came in her
cunt, filling her with hot semen, sinking my fingers into the
firm muscular flesh of her perfect young body.

Dead silence for a moment.  My cock slid wetly out of Tanya, and
she straightened up, smoothing her skirt down over her sticky
thighs.  I avoided her eyes, looking down over the railing.  The
woman on the rock was gone; only her book sat there, the pages
ruffling in the wind.  Tanya picked up her gym bag, the panties
still on top between the handles, and began to stride over the
bridge.  I stuffed my cock awkwardly into my pants and followed
her, abstractly admiring the perfection of her knees.  As I
caught up to her on the road up the hill, she turned and looked
me straight in the eyes.  She paused for a moment and ran one
hand along her thigh, reaching wantonly under her skirt and
fingering her pussy.  Then she grinned and strode on.  I
followed.

As we passed the apartments on the other side of the hill, I
saw someone looking at us out a window.  Following my gaze,
Tanya looked over also.  In the window, white dress buttoned
up and lovely black curls in place, was the woman from the
rock.  She looked out at us, and her lips moved.  I didn't
hear any sound, but I didn't need to.  Her full dark mouth
moved gracefully as she said it.  Her eyes were fixed on
Tanya's.

"Do you want it?"


My Friends the Allens -- Do You Want It?
by Mark Aster

