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o The Bookshelf Directories offer a very wide variety of stories. o
o They have been submitted by people from all over the world. Also o
o from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups). There is no particular order o
o other than offering them to you in alphabetical directories. o
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o profit without obtaining the author's permission in advance. o
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o Lest we forget!!! This story was produced as adult entertainment o
o and should not be read by minors. o
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Sports Illustrated (MF, exh)
by Chris Church (cchurch@netinc.ca)
Date: January 2000
***
Cigarette smoke curls up overhead while a glass of cabernet,
warms beside her. She sits perched against one of the only two
windows, in her small New York apartment that over looks the deep cut
alleyway between her building and the next. The other window is that of
an old woman who is in bed every night by 9, surely not watching the
scene below. She has seen this scenario a half dozen times now, never
tiring of it, always amazed by what transcends. Tonight, however, she
was fortunate enough to catch the event from the beginning, always
discovering it in progress a little late when roused from her sleep or a
good program on TV. She watches the woman in the long wool coat, pacing
the dark cavernous berth between the two buildings. "So this is how it
begins," she mutters pressing her cigarette to her lips. She had the
advantage over the woman, of being able to see the man approaching
before she could and although she had been witness to this a few times,
she watched on with fresh curiosity.
The man she knew from her building, which had always struck her
as odd, that he would choose to act so close to home. She had seen him
only in passing a couple of times, without greeting or event, finding
him here more than inside. He was a tall man, roughly 6’3, solidly
built on a sturdy frame, hair dark that was always kept neat. As for
his facial features, she was unsure. He usually kept his head lowered
when she’d seen him in the garbage room or hallway. Not obviously low,
just enough to make it nearly impossible to make out his face. Here in
the alley, there was no hope for detail but she knew that he was the
same man. She had made herself available the last time she saw him
enter the building before her, trying to catch up to him, hoping to
share the elevator but when she arrived, near panting from her quick
pace she was just in time to see the door to the stairwell swing shut.
Indeed, he was a curious man and she felt herself drawn to his mystery.
She recalls the first time she was privy to his escapades,
staring blankly out her window at the lone woman down below. It was
five maybe six months ago when she heard the first scream followed by
the thrashing of garbage bins. In the city, one hears these things
regularly and nearly no one ever pays any attention but the program she
had been watching was setting her adrift so she decided to investigate
the source of the ruckus. She came upon her large window, switching off
the only lamp on in the room as she passed it. She took a moment to let
her eyes readjust to the darkness before scanning the alley below, her
head moving slowly from left to right. At first she couldn’t make out a
thing but movement deeper into the alley caught her eye in an instant.
There was a bare bulbed light hanging over a doorway on the opposite
building just a few feet from the mouth of the alley, that being the
only source of light. One really had to focus in order to see anything
at all past that light.
Though hard to tell at a moments glance, she could make out two
forms in a scuffle of some sort. By what she could see, it was a man
and a woman causing the commotion, the man was pushing the woman,
clothing torn, face to the wall. She struggled under his force, her
legs and arms flailing in all directions in a bid to make some form of
contact with whatever got in her way. Her screams where audible but
muffled by his large, clasping hand and he took her by the hair and
swung her around to face him, thrusting his knee hard between her thighs
to pin her there. He kept the palm of his hand pressed firmly against
her mouth, her stifled groaning hard to detect even through her open
window but the sounds of the woman’s despair where unmistakable. She
watched on with fascination, never dawning on her that she could put an
end to it merely by calling down to the pair and scaring him off. She
could feel her body rise with the heat of need. It had been sometime
since she had last engaged in any form of sexual intervention, let alone
something so primal and deep seeded. She continued her investigation,
watching now as the man shoved his knee up and out, prying the woman’s
legs apart. To her, the woman now looked like a macabre painting, her
wrists and hair gathered up in his right fist, high above her head, his
left hand fiercely cupping her mouth and her legs wide, back crushed
against the brick wall. In a flash, he reached down, slipped his
fingers into the elastic waist of her panties, and tore them away,
jerking her forward and stuffed them entirely into her screaming mouth.
Now with a second hand to work with, he tore open her blouse, the odd
button catching the faint light as it sailed through the air like
shrapnel. She was braless, good thing for him, she mused, and he leaned
into her instantly like a slobbering animal to a carcass, taking the
right nipple into his mouth. The woman’s head twisted from side to
side, her face full of the agony she was now feeling as he bit hard into
her nipple, pulling it taut as he chewed. He kept her hair and wrists
pinned under both of his hands then dove to ravish the other breast.
Periodically, he would stop to tuck her panties back into her mouth,
shoving them hard with his fingertips. It was easy to see how brutally
he had made the first breast, it was glowing red and in a few spots she
could make out the little rivulets of blood as they trickled over the
woman’s pert tits. The woman began to ebb in her struggle, splayed
there, exposed aside from her short skirt that was gathered up around
her waist, her cunt bared to the damp night air, to him. He pulled back
slightly to bring his right hand down and instantly she took advantage
and brought her knee up only able to nudge his groin in the attempt. He
brought his risen hand down hard across her face, smashing it against
the wall and sending her upper body reeling. He steadied her
immediately and uttered a threat that made her eyes widen in terror.
She had no idea what he had said to the woman to provoke such a reaction
but she was certain he would stand for no more of the her foolishness.
Instinctively, the woman subsided; her body racked with pain,
though her eyes still wide with fear. The man wasted no time, slipping
his hand harshly over her blood smeared breasts, slapping each before
pressing his hand down her belly, pushing at the flesh until he reached
her mound, cupping and squeezing with digging fingers. With her head
against the open window frame, she saddled up closer, ashamed by the
dampness that had gathered at her slit but without moral enough to aid
the victim. Secretly, she rooted for the man saying over and over in
her mind, “Fuck her…FUCK HER” and as if to hear her silent plea, he
began fumbling with the zipper of his pants with his free hand.
She watched now with rich suspense as he held the root of his
fully erect penis, working his way between the woman’s legs as he
positioned himself awkwardly, still keeping his grip on her wrists. She
looked directly into his eyes for the first time, suspended in time, her
eyes pleading and he reared his head back and gave a hearty laugh at her
misfortune. In one violent thrust, he entered her, impaling her
completely. The woman replied with a deep but muted scream and he
laughed once again as the woman wept. He held her balanced there for a
moment while he took a wrist in either hand and brought them down to her
hips, holding her steady as he violated her brutally. He used her hips
to pull her on and off of him, making her meet each one of his pounding
thrusts, his head lowering to her neck and shoulders to gnaw on her.
She looked half dead with exhaustion but she managed to endure in her
semi-detached state. “What must be going through her mind?” the woman
in the window thought to herself. She shook her head knowing that there
was no way to even imagine. She knew that her own heart was racing
dangerously and that her own body trembled now, her stomach a thick nest
of twisting knots as she remained an admirer to this dark spectacle.
The woman now seemed transfixed, staring off somewhere else. It seemed
to have her complete attention. Of course there was nothing, the woman
just hung now in the balance and the watcher nodded her approval
muttering under her breath,” Yes, that’s what I would do if I where her,
concentrate on something else.” She soon thought better of her idea
when she saw that the man had flipped the woman roughly over a large
trash bin, kicking her legs wide then moving up between them, her wrists
still pinned to her hips. She screamed now begging with every fiber of
her existence, “Pleeeeease nooooo…oh gawwwwwd no, no, no, no, NO!”
Without moisture or spreading her ass cheeks, he tucked himself under
her then bobbed her into position and buried his cock completely in her
dark hole. He grunted in response to each of her pathetic cries.
Faster, in a rage known only to beasts and demons, he pummeled her
wildly on his cock, her body mashed against the filthy bin.
The watcher looked on with sheer excitement, her own hips rocking back
and forth to the rhythm of his slamming. His body tensed as it jarred
against the weak woman’s ass. He let go of her wrists, satisfied that
she was worn down and slipped his hands around her neck, constricting
them as he fucked her raw body violently. She gasped and sputtered,
coming to life, her moans carried through the entire alleyway. He
reared back once, slammed in hard and stayed still, spasming as he
dropped his seed in her ass. He caught his breath and pulled out
harshly, leaving the woman slumped over the garbage bin, her legs
unnaturally wide, his cum seeping down the back of her right thigh in
globs. The scene was truly surreal. All was quiet now. He tidied
himself up paying no attention to the woman as he did. As she watched
the man straightening himself she could see the woman’s movements from
her peripheral. She had tried to right herself and ended up staggering
back a few steps before plummeting to the ground. Curiously, she
thought she could hear a cars engine and looked to the mouth of the
alleyway and indeed there was a car there and not just any old car but a
shiny white Bentley. She continued to watch with strange fascination as
the man walked over to the woman, bent, slipping his hands under both
thighs and beneath her shoulders and lifted her with little effort.
Stranger still was the way the woman instinctively brought her arms up
and wrapped them in a draping fashion around his neck.
The woman was in bad shape, that was obvious even to her but how
bizarre it was that she was now lifting her head up, lips pursed to kiss
the man the just raped her and that he too was wanting this kiss.
Confused and unbelieving, she watched as he carried her to the beautiful
car and gently set her inside, arranging her in the back seat as if
concerned now for her comfort. The driver stood holding the door and
looked on as if this was perfectly ordinary. The man stepped back, said
something to the driver causing him to smile and ease the door closed.
The driver then tipped his hat, moved to the driver’s side of the car
and got in. The man stood and watched as the vehicle drove away then
turned, lifted his head and smiled at the woman in the window before
rounding the corner of the building, disappearing completely from view.
She sat for a few moments dumbfounded, not ashamed for peeking but for
being caught. Her entire face was flushed with this shame and then a
thought hit her making her laugh and kick her legs out to ward off
hysterics. She was pondering the thought that rape may indeed be a
spectator’s sport and if so, who just won? Who was keeping score? And
who was refereeing? It struck her as funny and she laughed nervously
remembering that he had seen her watching. That night she slept very
little, feeling riled by the nights event. Tonight would be no
different. Oh sure, the woman would wear something different and he
might change the pattern in which he uses her body, he might be rougher,
he might be gentler but either way the game would be played the same.
L /1999