Zip-less (MF, Humor, 1st, nc) The following is a work of fiction FOR ADULTS. If you are under the age of 21 go away. Delete this document and hope that your parents never find it in their internet archive or trash, because if they do, you are in really deep do do. If you don't, please understand that the activities presented here are unsafe. I wouldn't do them and neither should you. They make a great pretext for an interesting story, but acting out on fantasy pretexts is a great way to ruin your life or wind up dead or both. So don't do anything unsafe described here or in any work of adult fiction, even though it might look pretty good at the time. To be specific: Unsafe means nothing with blood or blood products in it goes from anyone else inside you. Semen, pre-cum, and regular blood all count. I'm being blunt here because I used to know 14 people who are now dead because what they did turned out to be unsafe. Please be advised that if you are under the age of twenty-one and are still reading this document, you should know that it is equipped with the new Parent-Gram (TM) IP tracer software notification system. If you do not log off your email provider in the next 5 minutes anyone who logs on from your IP will receive the following message including your parents, neighbors, and anyone else sharing your IP for the next 48 hours. When they next open their internet browser a copy of this message and the following notice will appear on their screen: It appears that your underage minor was reading the following cheap filthy trash. If you have any sense of decency at all you should ground them for the rest of their lives. They were identified via the new Parent Gram (TM) software that traces the computer IP, server and computer address of internet porn providers and the surfing habits of known teen sites to identify likely underage porn users. We apologize in advance if the use of porn by adults using a shared computer has generated this message in error. You will be able to tell by the list of porn sites attached whether adults in your household have visited any or all of them. -The Sex Police * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * O.K. That should have gotten rid of the little underage beasties. Maybe not, but it was fun to write. I had to put something up there. Unfortunately the part about knowing those dead from unsafe sex was not fiction, and, people being who they are, was probably on the low side. Not everyone advertised that their loved one died of A.I.D.S., especially at first. org 6/23/08 On to the story! Zip-less (MF, Humor, 1st, nc) I was drinking one night in the late 1940's in a little corner joint that you find sometimes in the neighborhoods on the North Side of Chicago, when Karen came in. Ari's was not really the kind of place that people drive to because it was off the main streets, just on a residential street corner under someone's two-flat. Around the side it had a small grocery, and some tiny apartments, but the upstairs was a one floor large apartment that the building owner owned, who also owned the bar and grocery. The apartments were often filled by relatives or employees, or both, meaning they were both relatives and employees and not necessarily on anyone's books: not the IRS, Immigration, or the Illinois DMV. Though this being Chicago, odds were they had a voter's card under some name or another. Ari's served a mostly walk-in Irish crowd because that's who mostly walked in, lived around it, worked around it, or so it would seem. The name might not seem to be Irish, but if you think about it, twist it back and forth in your mind a bit, so to speak, you might get see a faint whiff of Erin. If not, don't worry; Ireland is not really part of this story anyway. Karen was my girl and I was lucky to get her. I would say "don't ask me how," but I know, how I got Karen, it was luck, pure and simple. I walked into the right place at what was for her the wrong time. I lucked out because I wasn't willing to walk away when I saw that bastard pawing her trying to tear her panties off, hitting her and beating her to get what he wanted. I lucked out because I was willing to get the shit kicked out of me and more, just to make sure that Karen wasn't beaten any more that night, and raped and left for dead, and possibly killed outright. I didn't see the knife until it was too late and got it away from the guy by the simple expedient of forcing the middle of my left hand through it until it was stuck there three or four inches in and the bugger couldn't rip it back out. My blood made the grip too slippery you see. Sorry for the details, it doesn't get much worse. When I turned the back of my hand around to cut him with the point of his own knife, I was going for his eyes, but I only got a scar on his right cheek, he then did his only smart thing and ran like hell. Smart because I was so enraged I would have killed him with both hands if I had caught him, knife buried in my hand or no. I would have caught him too, I think, but for Karen's screams of terror and the blood loss. I was never one to leave a girl screaming in terror. I have sisters and one look Karen's eyes and I was a goner anyway, As I sank to the ground Karen came at me. She held me saw all the blood and suddenly she was begging me not to die, kissing me with a fervor I'd never imagined from any girl, never mind one I'd never met. The next thing I knew Karen was tearing a piece of her skirt off and using it to bandage my hand around the knife. I was stunned speechless, it was shock, and the blood from my head was not flowing to my hand if you know what I - and if you don't, go to bed before this gets any steamier. By then a crowd had come up from Ari's which was only a block away, a search party had gone out looking for the creep, more a lynch mob, police cars and an ambulance were on the way, and then, I lost consciousness looking into the eyes of a tearful angel, the last thing I remember telling her was that if I died, I knew I was going straight to heaven cause I was leaving in the arms of an angel, that it was worth it to save her, and that I loved her on first sight. God I was awful. I was nowhere near death and I knew it. Passing out from a pint lost, yes. Dead, no. I heard a few boyos in the back snicker as I passed out. I woke up in a nearby Catholic hospital, the ambulance drivers had seen the Celtic cross around my neck and knew what that meant, so over they took me, fast once they heard the story. Karen snuck in the back of the ambulance just as they were pulling away. They weren't going to let her come till she showed them her bruises and torn clothes, and the small cuts on her neck and she explained how the only reason she wasn't dead was me, or so she told me later when I woke up the next day, naked, under a sheet in a hospital bed to find her giving me a sponge bath. I realized with some dismay that I was drying everywhere. Karen had done a complete job. No parts missed. What a way to wake up. Frankly, I did give a second's thought to the whole waking up in heaven notion, but the pain in my hand soon put an end to that fairy tale. Yow but it hurt. A throbbing pain, that's what it was and I lifted up my hand to look at the thick bandages around it. "They say you'll keep it if you stop smoking, drinking and stick to one girl for the rest of your life." She said with mock seriousness. "No," I parried right back, "better get them in here right away to cut it off then, no use wasting time, then call the bar and see how many girls are rusty and are ready for a go!" "You are a scamp!" She laughed, her eyes bristling with laughter. "If I already didn't have a full report on you from your mother, your sisters, Father McBreen, and about half the customers of Ari's, all of whom have been in to see you since you gallantly fell protecting an unknown maiden's honor, I might have believed that malarkey. Ha." "The truth is, I stretched it a bit myself, they also said you'll be fine if you don't do those things too, you just won't live as long or be as happy." She gushed. "My name's Karen Garner by the way, thank you for saving my life. I was not about to give him what he wanted, foolish of me perhaps, but the look in his eyes said that I was dead either way, so I'd rather go as a dead virgin and maybe take him with me if I could, or mark him so he could be caught, and be stopped." She shivered then, at the thought of what had almost happened. For a moment all the life and the joy went out of her and she went cold as if she was dead already. I'd never seen anything like it. Then she tried to struggle back, a dim glow returning to her eyes. "Then you came along and saved me from those dead cold eyes." Even though I was naked under the sheets I struggled up so that my back was to the headboard and whispered, "Come here lass." To my surprise she did. She put down the bowl and the sponge and put her arms around my naked chest and shivered and cried, then began shaking even more. She took a second to compose herself. "In all my life I never saw anything so brave. No weapon, no idea of the danger, you just threw yourself at him, then when you saw his knife, you, you, saved me by, by....". She couldn't say it, she just pulled over and kissed my bandaged hand. Then shaking and shivering she started to squeeze me, hard, until I could feel her heart beat through what I suddenly realized was a very thin and soft top. It was hand woven lace, very soft, with details that hinted a lot but revealed nothing unless you were in exactly the position she was putting herself in now, pressing herself against my chest until the heat between us made both our nipples hard. "Oh, I said. Are you sure you want to be, be" I stammered quietly. "So grateful to the man who saved me from an early death and disgrace?" She looked me right in the eye. "When I thought you were going to die, I realized that, that I wanted you. Not just for a fling or something. I wanted you and nobody else. Ever." "Harry, this is very hard for me to say. You know how it is with the nuns as teachers. We're not supposed to know or say or do anything improper. Drilled right in to me, until what you did changed everything for me." "Harry, this may be fast in most people's minds, but I don't care. You've taken my heart, and my soul too. My body comes with it. Do with it as you like. You can start right now if you like. I've nothing under this dress and you've nothing under that sheet. So, if you don't mind, I'm going to climb in that bed with you, kiss you hard and then see what comes of it." She was teary eyed. She was emotional. She was crying. She was without a doubt the most beautiful and sexy young creature that had ever walked the earth. She was hopefully 19. Maybe less. I was 25. Then, age differences like that hardly mattered. As she slipped under the covers, her legs eased over my hips like a dancer, she probably was a dancer; she had the tall thin body of an Irish step-dancer, except for her breasts, which now, unsupported or hidden by anything but the thin and exquisite blouse, I could now see were large and full, with nipples long and stiff with excitement. There was nothing to suggest other than the hunger in her eyes that below her dress she was hot and wet, wet as the tears running down her face and hot as I had suddenly I had become. What else could I do or say: only one thing really. "Wait." Karen looked at me startled and confused. "Don't you want me?" "Reach your hand back a little if there is any question about that." She did, I was hard as a rock. She gasped having never touched a man's pleasure piece before. "It's warm and hard and soft all at the same time. Wow." "Thank you. But that's not why I stopped us." She had a bewildered look then. "Why then, am I not someone you could come to love?" "You are. But you have been through a great shock, a terrible shock. And I have been injured as well. Now you are so close and hot and wet and sweet it is all that I can do not to impale you without another thought and take the reward you're offering so generously, all of it, the whole shebang, lifetime, marriage, kids. But..." "But." Suddenly she was 9 instead of 19-ish. "I feel like if I were to do that right now, barely knowing your name, it would be like, like," it took me a moment to come up with a good simile, "like I had vanquished your rapist in the forest and then taken advantage of your emotional state and relief that you were not killed, to then go on and take your virginity anyway, in essence raping you after the fact, because, because, you were so close to the event. And I am too. Close to the event. I have this bandage, and now this sheet, that might as well say "Hero" on it and you draped over me, so beautiful, so lovely, like it was your token at a medieval tournament. The whole hero role is thrilling. So easy to step into for a man, to play and get his rocks off on." I continued. "What if we do what you say, I get you pregnant, and I turn out to be a great hero but a rotten husband that will make you miserable for the rest of your days? I don't want that. Even thought I want you very, very much right now." "You think too much." Karen reached around and grabbed my tool with fingers that had been inside her pussy unbeknownst to me. Her wet fingers brought my staff alive so fast I could hardly believe it. "Some hero's are reluctant I guess, so here's your reward and damn the consequences. No strings attached. Knock me up or don't, I'm going to ride you like one of Brian Boru's stallions and if you give me a child I will be lucky at that." Then Karen lifted herself up and planted herself on the tip of my cock and slowly slid down it inch by ever so tight inch until we hit a stopping point a little bit in. She winced. "It's going to hurt here. Are you still sure? I have neither rubbers nor anything, are you sure you want the risk? it's not too late to back out." She looked at me with admiring eyes. "Here you are, your thing half in me, and still you're trying to protect me. Oh I'm sure, all right. I just hope I'm enough woman to keep you." Then she lifted herself up, grabbed my ass, and pushed herself down, hard, wincing with pain as I broke through her maidenhead. The second she hit bottom I came in spurts and spurts and I just held her there as I rocked with unexpected and sudden bliss. "I'm so full of you now, but you're shrinking! Is that it?" She said, a little disappointed, "Is that what all the fuss is about, that didn't seem to go on for long." "It didn't I gasped. Just wait a second and don't move. You had me so worked up and surprised and over stimulated that when we hit bottom together, I had an orgasm like all of the 4th of July fireworks going off all at once. Fired directly into your cervix too." "Is that good?" She asked a little worried. "Sure, if you're ready to be a mother in exactly 9 months it's perfect. Couldn't be a better shot. Right in the pocket, did it in one, perfect mating, we're a perfect match." As I was rambling on nonsense like this, I was noticing how very sexy she looked hanging down over me: her dark doe eyes, her long face, her heavy breasts and her engorged nipples swinging back and forth. And suddenly, I was hard inside her again. "What's that?" She moaned her voice getting heavy and her eyes dilating a bit. "That is me getting hard again in less than three minutes due entirely to your incredible, exotic, erotic control over the wiles and willies of men." She laughed out loud. "You are probably a bit tender my love, so let's at least start slow, you are in the perfect position to control the tempo, so you do that." And she did. Slowly at first, the up and down faster and faster until the wound in my hand started to throb like it was about to explode. As she did so I tried to find that place in front I'd heard made woman go off like firecrackers and through process of elimination found a little round bit where the penis would be in a man. It seemed to be very sensitive. It took longer for me to be near the end this time so I tried to slow her down so that we could finish together. It worked. A bit. Finally there was no stopping us, we were off to the races and I was number 7 and we were going like mad to the finish. We let out a scream together that would have woken the dead in the basement mortuary just as Fr. McBreen walked into my hospital room. It was a quick marriage. Right there in the hospital room since our two mothers were only about 10 feet behind Fr. McBreen. Normally a lot of paperwork and folderol is needed for a Catholic wedding, but seeing as I "was on my deathbed" and all, and judging by the screaming of "pain" coming from my room and the feverishness I showed upon my arrival, the three "strongly encouraged" us not to wait if marriage was on our minds. Strongly. Very Strongly. Very. You get the idea. Then our mothers were quick to point out how quickly our fathers were going to arrive and how nice it would be if someone found some towels. We looked at each other and laughed. Time to get to know each other later. Besides, we wanted a lot more of what we had just tried and knew it. The kicker was when Fr. McBreen mentioned that if, on the off chance I should survive my near death experience, we could always solemnize our marriage with a mass that looked for all intents and purposes like the big wedding most American brides wanted these days. The nurses shooed them all out but Karen, let her wash me and herself up in the room's shower. I got my clothes and some dignity back, they all came back in, followed by a few of the boyos wandering by and two of Karen's girlfriends who were checking up on her. Their screams were almost as loud as ours. So that was it. We married that day. I don't particularly recommend it as a way to start a marriage. But in those days, once caught the way we were, well, there was no other choice really. And there is something to the song of the hero. It is an ancient rhythm that. Once caught in that particular tale I don't think we had much of a chance. So as I sat in Ari's, Karen came in with Sean and Colleen in both arms. It was that kind of place, serving food, if only freezer pizza, you could bring in children, and we did. Even if the twins were only 6 months old. Karen sat at the table, the kids put in high chairs bought specially for them. Karen had been sort of adopted by the bar after the incident that brought us together and our "awful sudden*" wedding. It was about an hour from closing time when a man walked into the bar, ordered a beer and walked past us to a table nearby when Karen froze and grew quite cold, turning pale and white. "Harry, it's him she hissed. HIM." I did a half turn and saw the man; sure enough the man bore a small scar under his right eye. Eyes that had tried to kill me more than a year before. "Quick, get the kids into the ladies room and don't let him see your face. Whisper to Frank behind the bar as you go so he knows what's up." Lord she was quick. She actually got Frank to follow her into the ladies and when he came out he was mad as hell. He quietly called the local station house that was only 3 blocks away, then pulled a specially modified narrow gauge shotgun out from under the bar. Then he turned the "ugly lights on." Most bars have ugly lights, they are very bright and make the bar look, well ugly, and make it easy for security to clear any size bar, especially large ones. They are also really good when you are expecting trouble, with a capitol T. "Excuse me folks, but it's come to my attention that year's special lottery winner has returned. As you may recall, it was held just before Harry and Karen's wedding? And the lucky winner forgot to check his number and collect his prize, this special shotgun, and a real beauty it is." "Karen happened to notice him and mentioned it to Harry and me just now. Harry is sure it's him too so we'd like you all to give an Ari's welcome to our lucky winner. Harry, if you would just escort our winner up to the scar, I mean bar, so he can get what's coming to him?" I stood and the man looked at me, then at Frank, and realized that he had been busted. Then he made his big mistake. He'd upgraded since last time from the knife he'd left in my hand to a "zip-gun"; a street gun made out of shotgun shells and/or other parts, which could easily kill someone caught by surprise. He pulled out his zip-gun and was immediately shot and killed by 14 off-duty Chicago and Illinois State police officers. Oh, I didn't mention that Ari's was a cop bar? ----------------------------------------------------------- *"awful sudden, ain't it?" As used in "The Front Page" usually is an insinuation of a wedding held because the families KNOW the bride is pregnant. The stage play "The Front Page" was written somewhere after 1910 I should check for the date, I know, by Ben Hecht and Charles McCarthy about the Newspaper business in Chicago in the 20's. A very funny show and has been remade as a film a number of times and is a community theater favorite. This is my second work of fiction for ASSTR. It now in its first draft. Nice comments are welcome, others are not. I think I have solved all the basic grammar issued in this release, but if I have not, please leave a comment and I will be happy to fix it. I hate stupid grammar errors in reading stuff online and am ever willing to fix it. Even years later. Send comments to - nox987-stories@yahoo.com Be sure to say what story you are writing about. I'll just trash flames so don't bother, but constructive writer's criticism is useful. I yam who I yam so it will be awhile before I know what that really means as a writer. Oh, the above is a disposable address, so don't bother adding it to any lists. It will take me less than 5 mins to change it. Thanks. Hope you enjoy my stories. 606_Zip This work is copyright 2008 and is subject to the Berne convention. You may use it on any adult site that does not charge users to view its stories as long as the story is provided complete and intact as it is shown here on the date that you copy it, including this copyright date. You must also provide a link back to this web page and this story link on asstr.org and refer to my as the author. Copyright 2008 by 606_Zip, his heirs and assigns, all rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, places, things, characters, mammals, verbs, insects, chemicals or neurons is entirely coincidental and may be due entirely to your hallucinogenic imagination. More to Come!