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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. Kristen 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
Mayan Adventure (MF)
by Thomas Baetzler, thb@spectre.ka.sub.org
The THC Archives
**************
*** THE PECULIAR MAYAN ADVENTURE OF BRIGADIER FOLKES ***
I'd like to share with you something that happened to me a
back when I was doing some Archeological exploration in
Mexico. Maybe this story isn't as lurid or as well
written as one by the other writers on the net. Thats because
it REALLY happened and I guess reality is a lot tamer than what
you can dream up.
I had gone to the Yucatan penninsula in Mexico to do some
work on one of the Mayan digs in the jungle. It was the
opportunity of a lifetime for an adventurer like me
so I was looking forward to it immensely.
Since the dig was way in the jungle I had a few hours of
driving along jungle roads til I reached the village that
the base camp for our dig. From there I would backpack it
into the jungle a few miles up river to where the excavations
of the ruins were going on.
Big problem though! I simply couldn't get any of the villagers
to accompany me as a guide to the ruins. I had trouble getting
any of them to even talk to me! In fact, the climate of fear
that pervaded the village was uncanny.
Finally, I managed to get the headman of the village to talk
to me. He explained that no natives would go with me to those
ruins as it was the "Evil Times"....and those ruins were
especially cursed!
"Could you elaborate a bit on that?" I asked impatiently.
"Well," the headman began. "Every Fall Equinox when the moon
is full, the 'Evil Times' begin. It is the time when all of
our males fear to go into the jungle as it is the time of the
'Wootier'....the bush pig from HELL!" At the sound of that
name all the villagers cringed.
"And just what is so fearful about this 'Wootier' ?" I said
irritably. The head man rolled his eyes in fear.
"She is the devil incarnate! Half female....half panther...
with the baser instincts of both combined with the cunning
of both! No male is safe from her at this time!"
"Would you mind elaborating on that?" I asked. The headman
paused.
"Here the legend is unclear as to what the 'Wootier' does
with our men...all we know is that those unfortunate
enough to have been captured by her for the night come back
drained, exhausted but with smiles on their faces!"
I shrugged. It didn't appear to be too terrifying a legend.
The males survived ...and I was determined to get at that
dig in the jungle and the treasures there...with or without
a native guide!
Well, I have tangled with the Yeti in the Himalyas, hunted
the Dragons of Borneo and outwitted the Sasquatch from the
wilds of Canada. No sex crazed panther women would deter me
from that Mayan gold. So early the next morning, I set off
upriver with a map, a weeks rations and carrying my trusty
7 mm Mauser that has helped me out of plenty a tight spot!
The day passed uneventfully...if you could call slogging
thru jungle uneventful. I tell you the bush that I encountered
there made Cambodia look like Kansas!
Funny, now and again I paused in wielding my machete through
the undergrowth with a prickly feeling on the back of my
neck that someone ...SOMETHING was watching. I would sometimes
pause in my travels and hear some accompanying sound near by..
and then silence...as if I was being shadowed. But the sound
would just as quickly die away. I dismissed it to fatigue
and an imagination fuelled by the headman's story.
The ruins were quite a bit farther into the valley than I had
first supposed, forcing me to bed down in a small clearing
for the night. I prepared supper and then contented sat by a
cheery fire sipping some coffee laced with rum and appreciated
the sudden peacefullnes of the jungle - bathed in a silvery
glow from the rising moon.
That tranquility was suddenly shattered by one of the most
spine-tingling shrieks I have EVER heard....which died away
to the tinkling liquid tones of what sounded like feminine
laughter. The evil laughter of a female who has a male
helpless in her power.
I reached down and picked up my Mauser, working the bolt and
levering a round into the chamber and checked the magazine.
Then I waited...and not for long, either!
SNORTSNORTSNORTSNORTSNORTSNORTSNORT....GRRRRRRR....GRUNTGRUNT
came the sounds from the jungle, accompanied by the breaking of
branches and crunching of leaves that imply passage of a heavy
body through the jungle. I waited until the sounds came closer
and closer ...and closer. Til they paused directly in front of
my campfire.
Then I saw them! Two large, green eyes....shimmering in the
gloom and they moved closer until I saw the eyes were attached
to the biggest panther I had ever seen. Then the panther raised
itself up and stood on its hind legs and I could see it was
more in the form of a man..powerfull and tall. Then I saw the
mamalian protuberences on its chest and realized I was
confronting the female of the species...and it moved toward
me with a sinewy feminine grace that under other circumstances
would have been considered sensual...
I grabbed my rifle and dropped back into the shadows beyond the
campfire and crouched. No longer silhouetted against the
campfire's glare we were on equal terms now..her eyesight
likely wasn't much better than mine as I had the full moon
brilliantly lighting up the jungle. And while she may have had
all the cunning of the female predator in search of prey, I had
five years of Legion experience behind me in the
counter-insurgency struggles of the Congo. I would not be taken
easily.
A shriek ripped through the jungle nearby. Another! I knelt
silently. A disappointed grunt came from the bush on my left.
I smiled. She had tried to provke me into firing a round in
the general direction of the shriek, knowing that the muzzle
flash would have betrayed my presence! Then a thought chilled
me...she HAD fought other rifle equipped men before...and
obviously won.
I wouldn't make it easy for her. I slowly reached down and
tossed a rock to my left. Its soft plop! was followed by a
grunt and a rustling motion. I brought the rifle to my
shoulder and waited, straining to see any movement.
There! I saw the outline of her form writhing in the direction
I had tossed the stone. I lined the crosshairs on her shoulder
and thought what a wonderful trophy for my den at home...and
squeezed the trigger!
The recoil jerked my shoulder back violently, but not enough
for me to see that at the last moment she had rolled into the
underbrush. I cursed! The muzzle blast had lit up the jungle
around me like a roman candle....she MUST know where I was..
a fact confirmed quickly by a black blurr that appeared out
of the gloom and knocked the rifle out of my hands!
I lashed out with my feet and pulled the kukuri knife from its
sheath at my side....a gift from one of my campaigns in Nepal,
the Ghurkas said anytime a kukuri came away from its sheath
it must taste blood....
But not this time! With a casual swipe of her claw (hand?) the
knife was kocked from my hand, following the rifle into the
gloom....and she quickly slammed a hand into my chest knocking
me back onto the ground as she straddled me.
I gazed defiantly at her form above me. Hmmmm...nice tits..a
little voice said in the back of my head. And slowly...ever
so slowly she traced a hand down my cheek, my throat to my
chest. Then with a sudden grunt she tore my shirt open! I
gasped and kicked but to no avail....she held me grimly and
reached for the wasteband on my trousers.
With the same violent strength she quickly divested me of my
pants and then my underwear. She gets down to grass roots
real quick, I thought!
Slowly, she wrapped a warm, strong hand around my cock and
began a languid pumping motion. I moaned and she showed
strong white teeth in appreciation of her efforts. It
wasn't very long before involuntarily I became VERY hard!
I didn't know how to handle this situation....here I was at
the mercy of this female in the guise of a panther..and also
becoming incrediably aroused by her!
That arousal grew as I felt her warm hot breath on my cock
and then the lightest of feathery caresses from her tongue!
And then she swallowed me whole and I moaned even harder as
my cock disappeared into her warm mouth. She deep-throated me
as expertly as any of the whores I had had in Paris.... or
anywhere else for that matter.
And then those deep, fiery green eyes burned into mine and
I felt myself getting hard again. With a graceful motion,
she moved her body up and over mine....mounting me quickly
before I could possibly react.With a triumphant snarl
she sank the full length upon my engorged shaft and began
a fluid, sinewy movement up and down...riding me.
I gasped at the warmth of her...I was completely engulfed
in her warm cavern as she rippled her pussy wall as she
pumped me within her slippery flesh. Her body began to
buck faster...and faster as once again I felt that familiar
tingle at the base of my spine. She fixed her dark green
orbs on me and this time I knew she wouldn't interrupt my
orgasm.
And it was incrediable....it was as if my cock suddenly was
on fire..spewing lava into her as she roared in triumph
and I gasped as if I was being strangled. Then..her motions
slowed to a more languid easy pumping until she stopped and
rested her head on my panting chest....before blackness
overtook me.
I came to at dawns first golden tones lighting up the jungle
around me....stll on my back...still half naked and feeling
exhausted in a pleasant way. As I was dressing from a spare
set of clothes in my knapsack, I noticed a clump of quite
deliberately picked flowers next to where I had come to.
"Not the first woman to have sent me flowers," I thought. "But
certainly one of the more unconventional...!"
With that I shouldered my knapsack, picked up my rifle and went
back in the direction of the village, wondering what other
adventures were in store for me. And the villagers must have
whispered amongst themselves about the broad smile on my face..
Cheers,
--
Thomas Baetzler, thb@spectre.ka.sub.org, bath0011@fh-karlsruhe.de
Hain't we got all the fools in town on our side? And hain't that a big
enough majority in any town? --- Mark Twain, "Huckleberry Finn"