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Anger - 1
by Ragsthetiger (ragsthetiger@netscape.net)

***

What's the best way to deal with a really bad temper? 
(Mf, inc, v, 1st, oral)

***

My name is J.L. Lewis. My mother was a big fan of a 
piano playing southern rock 'n roller from back in the 
50s, but MY name is J.L., period, end of discussion.

The day after graduating from High School I enlisted in 
the Army. 

My parents were glad to see me go and I don't blame 
them one bit for feeling that way. I was no picnic to 
bring up. See, something's not quite right inside me. 
In the years since then I've learned that shrinks (and 
certain other quacks who believe they know what's going 
on in our heads) like to call people like me 
psychopaths. 

We're supposed to be amoral, with no sense of right or 
wrong; no conscience, no moral compass to steer our 
ships by. Someone, in a line from some movie or other, 
once said, 'I have a certain... moral ambiguity.' 
That's me in a nutshell. I should point out though (in 
fairness to myself) that I'm not a classic or complete 
psychopath. I tend to hug the border.

I also happen to have an extremely bad temper, and 
that's putting it mildly. Inside me is an aching hole 
that feels as if it's an eternity wide, bottomless, and 
filled to overflowing with anger. I don't know how it 
got there, I don't know why... and I don't much care. 
It's been there for as far back as I can remember, a 
tangible presence in my life, but the damn thing 
blossomed into a living entity when I hit puberty.

Puberty was rough on me. I killed two guys when I was 
fifteen. 

I was on my way home from school (late in my freshman 
year) when I heard some high pitched wailing from one 
of the wooded areas near our house and wandered over to 
have a look. In the heart of the thicket I saw two boys 
I recognized from school, both seniors. And between 
them was my little sister, her dress torn and half 
hanging off her delicate little eleven year old body. 
The boys (Dale and Robb) had her sandwiched between 
them, pawing at her just beginning to bud breasts on 
the one side and mauling her little butt one the other.

"C'mon you little tease, you know you like it." rasped 
Dale, the older and larger of the two as he squeezed 
and pinched her tiny tits.

Robb went to his knees behind her, reached up under her 
tattered dress and pulled her little white cotton 
panties down to her ankles.

My little sister, Terry, had just begun to blossom that 
summer, and she still resembled a boy more than the 
woman she would become. When Robb ran his hands back up 
her naked legs, he lifted the back of her dress and I 
saw one sign of the changes that had begun; her hips 
had a bit more padding, her butt cheeks were also more 
pronounced and rounder. And peaking out from under the 
lower curves of her cheeks I could just barely see her 
hairless, puffy little pussy lips.

Right then and there it opened up in the center of my 
gut. The hole opened and just grew and grew and grew. 
From the bottomless depths of that unending hole IT 
came rushing up... the anger. It tasted metallic, it 
tasted cold, it smelled red and black and it felt like 
someone had shoved a live electrical wire into my belly 
button. The anger flowed and surged and filled 
something that couldn't be filled, even slopping over 
the edges from time to time.

I was broken inside. I didn't realize it right then, 
but I was most definitely broken. An instant before I'd 
been a shy, scared teen, lacking in anything resembling 
self confidence. Now all that had changed. There was no 
fear. There was only the anger. Without fear how could 
I be shy or scared or lack in confidence?

I dropped my books and ran at Robb, who was prying my 
little sisters butt cheeks apart to see what was 
between them. Dale was trying to force his mouth over 
hers while still pulling on her nipples. Terry was 
sobbing and trying to escape, but they were just too 
much bigger and stronger. 

Robb must have heard me coming, because he turned his 
eyes from Terry's butt at the last moment and looked 
up. I punched him as hard as I could square in the 
throat. My anger, coupled with the momentum I'd built 
running towards him, gave me so much more power than I 
could have generated on my own. I saw my knuckles bury 
themselves deep into the youthful muscles of his throat 
and I heard his neck snap from the impact. And I saw 
the spark of life in his eyes flicker, fight to remain 
and then fade away to nothing. I didn't feel a thing. 

Adrenaline you might say. I was high on adrenaline and 
endorphins. Or maybe I was in shock. Yeah, that must 
have been it.

Dale stopped dead in his tracks. He didn't move a 
muscle, other than to let his hands fall from Terry's 
chest and come to rest at his sides. My sister dodged 
aside and ran to crouch behind the trunk of a large old 
elm tree a few feet away. I just stood there, my skin 
felt tight and tingly. Sparks seemed to dance all over 
my body, and I swear I could feel each and every hair 
on my head trying to stand to attention.

Dale snapped out of his stupor and looked down at his 
friend who lay next to me in a crumpled heap.

"Nobody touches what's mine!" I growled at him. I could 
feel the muscles in my shoulders, arms and back as they 
began to coil and bunch. I felt myself swelling until 
I'd swear I was taller and stronger than the fifteen 
year old wimp I'd been just minutes ago.

Dale's eyes got real wide, his pupils contracted to 
tiny pinpricks and he wet himself. He tried to run to 
the left, but I cut him off. He dashed to the right and 
I got in front of him again. He was gasping for air, 
his chest heaving as if it would split down the center 
any minute and I could taste the fear rolling off him 
in waves. He spun around and tried to outrun me. I 
caught him with very little effort, punching him in the 
kidney so hard he screamed. He fell to the ground and 
tried to curl up into a tight little ball for 
protection. 

I pried him open and straddled his belly, pinning his 
arms to his sides with my legs, and commenced slamming 
my fist into his chest over the spot I figured his 
heart should be. Over and over and again and again...  
Dale struggled at first then mostly he just wept and 
whimpered. After a while he went quiet and stopped 
moving. When I heard his ribs crack and I felt the 
depth of the dent I'd put into his chest I stopped. I 
sat back and looked into his lifeless eyes. I felt no 
hatred for Dale or Robb. Then again, I didn't feel bad 
for what I'd just done either.

"Nobody touches what's mine." I hissed. 

I stood up and went over to where Terry still hid 
behind the elm. I held out my hand to her and she put 
her hand in mine.

"Come on, I'll take you home." 

I wasn't tired. I thought I probably should be, but I 
wasn't. I was juiced. I was on fire. It just wouldn't 
stop. I thought I might burn up from inside, but I 
didn't. 

I took Terry home and we told our parents what had 
happened and they called the cops. I showed them where 
the bodies were and they arrested me.

I spent a week in jail before my folks could arrange to 
bail me out. 

I got away with it (hell, it was self defense, mostly) 
but recognized even then that I was going to have to 
find a less socially controversial outlet for my anger. 
I was never mean or vindictive, never cruel or sadistic 
except when I fought; but I was always filled with 
anger and I've never hesitated to use it for my own 
benefit. And on those occasions I would let it loose I 
never felt any guilt or remorse over the results.

That very same year I also discovered the only thing 
that has ever calmed my anger; fucking. During sex, and 
for about half an hour afterwards, I am as relaxed and 
easy going as any one else. 

***

The day my father came and bailed me out. That was the 
day. The deputy led me out and removed the cuffs.

"Keep a close eye on your son, Mr. Lewis." He said. 
"He's been scaring some of our more 'hard core' 
residents, if you get my meaning?"

My father must have seen the burning in my eyes. He 
nodded to the deputy and took me home.

I was pretty much under house arrest until my trial 
date a couple of months away. I could go to school, but 
that was pretty much it. Might as well have put a 
collar around my neck and chained me to a post like a 
dog. What few friends I'd had wouldn't come near me 
anymore, and everyone else just increased their 
distance. Except for Terry.

I tired everything I could think of to lessen the 
strain the anger was having on me, but nothing did any 
good. I ran, I cursed, I banged my head against walls, 
I slammed my fists into walls. Nothing helped. I really 
did think I was going to go out of my mind.

About a week after my release from jail I was on my way 
home from school and somehow ended up back in the 
wooded area. I wandered around looking at the place 
that had so radically changed my life. There was a tiny 
noise behind me. I could feel it on my skin, taste it 
in the air.

"Hey, Terry." I said. 

"How'd you know it was me?" she asked. I told her. She 
came around to stand in front of me. She'd started 
growing and was getting close to me in height. Always a 
pretty girl, Terry had started turning into a real 
beauty. She was gonna be a real heartbreaker in a few 
years, I thought. I looked into her eyes and saw that 
she wasn't afraid of me. I can't begin to express what 
that meant to me at that time. I saw love and 
acceptance, not the hate and rejection I'd been getting 
from almost everyone else I met. 

"Thanks for saving me." She said and kissed me on the 
cheek. I smiled a crooked little half smile. And then I 
kind of stumbled. Something very odd had happened 
inside. My anger had retreated. Not a lot, hardly 
noticeable at all, but it had retreated.

"Terry, would you do me a favor?"

"Anything you want Jerry Lee, just name it." she said, 
her voice firm and intense.

"Kiss me again?" And she kissed my other cheek. The 
kiss was a little wetter, and lasted a little longer, 
and my anger backed up a little bit more.

"One more time, please?" I begged her, and my little 
sister grabbed my head and placed her lips smack dab on 
top of my own and really gave me a kiss.

It was a youthful, inexperienced kiss, but it made up 
in passion and enthusiasm what it lacked in skill. And 
my anger backed up even further.

"Oh, damn, YEAH!" I gasped when Terry finally released 
my lips.

"Jerry Lee? What just happened?" she asked. Apparently 
she'd felt a bit of what I'd been sensing, so I 
explained as best I could about what had happened to me 
that day, about the anger and how I couldn't get rid of 
it. And about what her kisses had just done.

She sat down on the damp leaf covered ground and 
thought for a bit. I just reveled in the tiny victory 
I'd been given.

Finally she stood up and put a hand on my shoulder.

"Come here, I wanna try something." She said, drawing 
me along with her till I had been backed up against the 
very same elm tree she had once hidden behind. She 
looked into my eyes with tenderness and concern. "Focus 
on this, and only this." She said and again covered my 
lips with hers. 

A lingering, sweet kiss, that got a bit more... intense 
when she began sucking on my lower lip, and then 
nipping my lips with her little teeth. She licked the 
tip of her tongue around the edges of my lips then 
slipped it between my lips and deep into my mouth. 

I did my best to focus on the kiss, her lips, her 
tongue and the sensations she was giving me. And the 
harder I focused the farther back the anger went. My 
body relaxed a fraction. I could feel it. I was elated. 
I began to join more actively in the kiss. I sucked on 
Terry's searching tongue, trapping it between my lips 
and teeth, drawing her deeper into my mouth. God, the 
taste of her mouth was so... calming. 

We broke for air, both of us gasping. Terry began to 
sag a bit in the knees. I reached out quickly and 
caught her in my arms and cradled her against my chest.

As I held her, the little minx slipped her hand down 
between my belly and my belt, inside my jeans and under 
my short where she locked her fingers around my 
hardening cock.

One of us gasped a little louder. She began to squeeze 
me and tug upwards on the shaft, shifting the position 
of my balls all over the damn place, sometimes for the 
better, sometimes for the worse.

"Jeez Terry, what are you doin'!" I rasped, my voice 
getting rough and lower in pitch.

"An experiment. Now shush and focus!" Little sisters 
can be very demanding.

So I focused on her hand, on each finger; each 
contraction of her hand and on my cock's response to 
her actions. It grew a bit longer and thicker and 
harder. I sucked air in through my teeth. Damn, I was 
getting so sensitive I could feel the whorls and swirls 
of fingerprints on the pads of her fingertips.

The calm grew, shoving the anger farther and farther 
back inside the hole at the center of me.

Terry pulled her hand free of my pants, dropped to her 
knees and undid my belt buckle, snaps and zipper, 
tugging my pants down to my knees. One more tug had my 
shorts down and my teen age cock swaying in the 
afternoon breeze. I focused on the sensation of the 
breeze as it floated over and under and around my 
twitching dick. It was so unreal, the light caress, the 
gentle kiss... each and every one helped push the anger 
just a little farther away.

Then I felt something more real, not as light but just 
as gentle. It was warm and wet and tender and just a 
bit noisy. I opened my eyes and looked down.

Terry, my sweet little sister Terry, had the head of my 
throbbing cock in her mouth and was working it over 
with her tongue. 

Her lips were stretched out obscenely as she sucked 
away like a kitten at its mother's teat.

Focus! 

Her tongue was soft and rough; I could feel the tiny 
little buds that covered the surface of her mouth 
muscle. Feel the tight grip of her lips as they 
contracted beneath the head of my cock. Feel the heat 
of her mouth, the slippery slimy glide of her saliva 
mixed with what I would later learn was pre-cum.

Terry pulled me out of her mouth with an audible 'pop', 
and smiled up at me. So sweet, so innocent, so 
determined. That's my baby sister.

I saw something in her eyes explode into being as I 
looked down at her glowing face. It was a demanding, 
urgent kind of thing and I could see it grab hold of my 
sister and shake her. She trembled, but her strength of 
will won out. 

Giving my cock head a little at, she stood up and undid 
her own pants, pushing them down over her slim hips to 
her knees. 

Then she turned around and bent at the waist and put 
her arms around the tree.

"Do it Jerry, put it in me! And focus! Focus really, 
really hard!"

I'm not going to pretend that I didn't know what she 
meant. I'm not going to pretend that I didn't want to 
do it, or that I had any mental reservations of any 
kind. I did, I did, and I didn't.

So I did. 

Terry arched her back and pushed her butt out 
presenting me with the best target she could. Her butt 
cheeks spread apart of their own accord and I could see 
her little rosebud anus, and her slick and dripping 
little pussy. 

Focus. 

Something tangy was rushing around on the afternoon 
breezes. It was kind of musky, but only vaguely similar 
to other animal musk I'd smelled before. It rushed into 
my nose and spread over my tongue. It was electrifying, 
energizing and very, very demanding. It screamed its 
way through my blood wailing 'Now, now, now.' My eyes 
glazed and my breath became ragged. 

I dropped down behind Terry's exposed backside, 
following the scent from the breeze to where it 
emanated from... my sister's hairless pussy. I shoved 
my face into the crack of her ass, my tongue lapping at 
her pussy lips. I needed her smell, her scent, that 
taste. I NEEDED her pussy. I drove my tongue the length 
of her slit, and found a soft, tender opening at its 
base. I thrust my tongue into the opening and licked 
for all I was worth. I was so intent, so focused I 
couldn't think of anything BUT that taste. 

Terry moaned and groaned and twisted her hips. 

"Jerry, oh Jerry! Put it in me, please put it in!" she 
whispered. Somehow the faint words got through the haze 
in my mind and I heard her. Forcing myself to stop what 
I was doing, I put both hands on her lightly padded 
hips, rose to my feet and slowly eased my cock into my 
sister's now opened cunt.

I managed to slide in about a couple of inches and then 
something was blocking my way. I snarled, tightened my 
grip on Terry's hips and shoved hard. Whatever it was 
gave way and Terry cried out in pain. I didn't care.

Focus! 

The heat I was now feeling was a match for the heat of 
the anger. It burned hot, but it was a cleansing, 
soothing kind of heat. And there was a delicate 
softness; a moist, hot glove that gripped and flexed 
and stroked. I pulled back a bit, feeling the glove 
sliding against my shaft, reluctant to let me go. I 
heard Terry moan softly. I pushed back in and felt the 
welcoming clench and ripple of her internal muscles.

Focus... I was calm. I felt so relaxed and at peace. 
Physically I was thrusting and sweating and being 
driven by my more basic instincts, but inside I was 
swimming in a mighty torrent of peaceful calm. The 
river just flowed and filled the endless hole that 
existed at the center of my being.

My body went ridged, all my muscles tensing and 
contracting and I exploded in my very first orgasm. My 
cock kept jerking and twitching for several minutes 
after the flow of cum had stopped. I lay panting and 
sweating on my sister's back, her butt shoved back 
against my groin, the two of us still joined together 
by my slowly shrinking cock. 

"That was amazing!" I exclaimed, as I eased us both 
down to the ground and leaned back against the tree 
trunk.

"Jerry, I could feel them..." Terry said weakly. "I 
could feel the burning ocean and the cool little 
stream. I could feel the stream growing bigger and the 
ocean drying up."

"You could feel it too? Oh, damn baby, I thought I'd 
lost my mind and was imagining the whole thing."

"No, it's real." I could see tears rolling down her 
pretty face. "I don't know how you can stand having 
that ocean inside you. I think I'd die."

"I thought I would too, that week in jail. I kinda 
wanted to. But I didn't. And now I know it can be 
pushed back and beaten down. I can't thank you enough 
for this." And I hugged my little sister tight, till 
she squealed. 

The anger went away, or was masked or took a holiday to 
Barbados. Hell, I don't know what happened to it, but 
it let me alone for a while and that was as close to 
Heaven as I figured I'd ever get.

During the two years between the killings and joining 
the Army I studied Aikido, boxing and knife fighting. 
(yeah, you can study real knife fighting, if you know 
where to find a teacher) I've never had a desire or 
need to hurt anyone, no voices in my head telling me to 
blow up orphanages or hunt down hookers and fillet them 
or anything like that, but I figured that if I was 
going to be a magnet for violence then I aught to be 
prepared to deal with it. And I spent what was left of 
my free time after school getting laid.

Here's a funny bit; I'm a little guy. Hit 5'10" when I 
was sixteen, stopped growing and haven't ever weighed 
more than 160 pounds. Physically I have two things 
working in my favor; anger (of course) and speed. I'm 
very, very quick with both my hands and feet. Mentally 
I'm doing pretty well. I have a pretty high IQ, a very 
good long term memory and a burning curiosity. 
Emotionally... well, I haven't got much there; fiercely 
loyal when I choose to be, and VERY territorial. 

Anyhow, I waved 'so long' to my parents, gave my eleven 
year old kid sister a big hug and kiss, got on the bus 
and didn't look back. Hell, the only thing worth a damn 
in that whole stinkin' town was that sister of mine. 
After the killings she was pretty much the only one 
near my age who would have a thing to do with me. She 
turned into a tear factory that day and had to be pried 
loose from me so I could leave. We'd gotten pretty 
close and my leaving was hard on her. 

So, I joined the Army and became a trained killer for 
Uncle Sugar. I flew thru boot camp, infantry school, 
combat infantry training, and a bunch of others that 
you don't need to know about. The Army loves guys like 
me... even if we scare the shit out of 'em most of the 
time. 

I built on my natural abilities, managed to keep from 
killing anyone I wasn't supposed to and even got 
promoted a few times. 

Which brings us (six years later) to the events of last 
week. Bet you didn't think I was ever gonna get to the 
point.

I was reposted over a year ago and am now assigned 
to... well; you don't need to know where. Let's just 
say it was about fifty miles from where this whole mess 
started. Yep, I got stationed near my hometown. I 
didn't go back and visit the folks, or call or send a 
telegram. They were glad to be rid of me and I saw no 
reason to open old wounds.

Fact of the matter is there are only three things in 
the entire world I give a damn about. Fighting, fucking 
and... well the third one you don't kneed to know about 
just yet.

So when I'm not on duty I can usually be found off post 
going from strip club to strip club. Guess why? Yep, 
looking for either a fight or a fuck. Generally both.

Last week, it was a Wednesday night around 2330 hrs 
(that's 11:30 PM for you civilians), I had just settled 
into a seat at 

the back of a small strip joint called the "Pink Pony". 
I had a decent view of the stage (of which there was 
one), was nursing a beer and eyeballing the two girls 
who were humping the chrome pole that is de rigueur 
now-a-days. They weren't bad looking, had nice figures, 
pretty faces (if you can ever tell for sure with the 
crappy lighting in most of these places) and lots of 
bare skin to recommend them. As dancers, though, they 
left a lot to be desired. 

Just as they were finishing their routine, into the 
joint comes a small herd of young guys. Obviously they 
were football players from the local state college, the 
oldest couldn't have been more than two or three years 
younger than I am. They were big guys. The smallest 
topped me by at least three inches and each of them 
outweighed me by at least sixty pounds. 

They were young, rowdy and looking for a good time. 
Typical collegiate pricks on the hoof. 

I always size up the people around me. It's become 
second nature. It's a survival mechanism.

At the same time the beef entered the place, a new 
dancer I hadn't seen before (and I'd been making the 
rounds for the better part of a year) steps out onto 
the stage.

The club D.J. gets on the fuzzy sound system to 
announce her.

"Let's give a warm welcome to our very own, "Pink 
Pony!"

This girl was something special. At least my height, 
maybe a bit taller; willowy body, with long graceful 
legs and pomegranate sized breasts. Tanned skin the 
color of milky coffee, dark chestnut brown hair, 
straight and silky and cut just short of her ass. Her 
ass... how do I begin to describe this girl's ass? 

It was perfect. The round, firm cheeks were the 
definition of "pear shaped" and flowed gracefully, 
tastefully from her narrow waist. As near as I could 
tell her ass was perfectly symmetrical; so evenly 
balanced as to defy explanation. Her face was elfin, 
with sharp cheek bones, angled eyebrows and a little 
bow of a mouth painted with crimson lipstick.

And she could dance. Perched on the mandatory stripper 
stiletto heels her movements were graceful and sure, 
powerful and alluring. 

Rarely do you hear the noise level in a strip joint 
drop to nothing. While this girl danced, the only 
sounds you could hear were the moderately crappy sound 
system blaring out her music and your own heartbeat. 

I watched her strut across the stage like a pony 
prancing; her tits jiggling slightly, the nipples 
growing harder and larger by the second. Her sweet hips 
swayed to the beat, those amazing ass cheeks winking at 
me and torturing the thin strap of the thong that 
flossed between them. 

I watched as she blew a kiss in my direction from those 
dainty painted lips. And I watched as the largest of 
the hormone driven college jocks reached up and grabbed 
a handful of her perfect ass and started dragging her 
towards him and off the stage. She shrieked with shock 
and fear, scrambling to get hold of the stage pole so 
she could pull herself away from the bruiser.

The "Pony" was a small club, as I've already said. It 
had only one bouncer on duty at that time, an ex-
college ballplayer named Marco. A pretty nice guy in 
his early 40's who was gradually going to seed. We knew 
each other and I was on fairly good terms with him. 

Marco moved forward to get the girl and the kid 
separated. Two of the smaller members of the herd took 
him out with punches to the kidneys and back of the 
neck. The girl's only immediate line of defense lay 
unconscious and bleeding from a head wound on the 
floor.

The herd spread out and the kid with a handful of ass 
bellowed at the top of his lungs, "Everybody get the 
fuck out, NOW!" 

Then he grinned from ear to ear. "We're gonna have us a 
private party."

People started scrambling for the exits, of which there 
were two, so it got a bit congested.

I finished my beer, slammed the bottle down hard on the 
little table top at the exact same moment the music 
stopped. It was unintended and very melodramatic. The 
D.J. must have already made his escape, 'cause it got 
very quiet in there. 

"Let the girl go." I said in a conversational tone.

I don't think they had even realized I was there till 
they heard the slamming of the beer bottle.

The big one turned his head from the girl who was 
laying belly down on the stage, still trying to crawl 
away from his tight grip on her butt cheek, with little 
or no success I might add.

"Get lost, man; you ain't invited to this party." 

I stood up and moved from behind the table out into the 
slightly less crowded space that surrounded the stage. 
I counted six ball players, more or less spread out 
shoulder to shoulder across the width of the club (I 
said it was a small club), Marco lay on the floor, 
bleeding from a cut on his forehead, the girl on the 
stage, and oddly enough four more strippers at the back 
of the club where the dressing room was located. 

The girls peeked out from behind the door and watched 
what was going on. I saw one of them punching numbers 
on a cell phone. Good, they hadn't abandoned one of 
their own. You've just got to admire that. Or who 
knows, maybe she was calling out for pizza.

"Look, hoss," I said, "so far you haven't done much 
more than simple assault. But..." and I let my voice 
drag the pause out painfully, "...if you do anything 
else things are gonna get real ugly. I've seen your 
faces and I can ID each and every one of you. That 
means the end of football, the end of college, the end 
of all the good times."

I was trying to be reasonable, considerate of their 
youth and lack of maturity. My personal army shrink (a 
full bird colonel) would have been quite impressed with 
me.

I didn't mean it. Hell, for a minute it looked like I 
might actually have reached a couple of their tiny 
alcohol fogged minds. Then "grabby" hollered out, 
"Somebody shut this cockroach up!" Sometimes, on rare 
occasions, God is very good.

The first one to reach me thought it was tackling 
practice and tried to wrap his arms around my upper 
body and drive me into the floor. I snap kicked him in 
the diaphragm then put the tip of my steel toed combat 
boot between his balls. He hit the floor like a big bag 
of kitty litter and didn't get up.

As I've said, I'm fast. Jet Li fast. And even though my 
pit of anger is a living, breathing demon that rarely 
ever leaves me, it never clouds my mind. I'm no 
berserker. I don't get nervous, I don't worry and I 
don't panic. (though sometimes I wonder if I might not 
have a death wish.) I had worked out a plan in my head 
and now I was carrying it out, instantly adapting and 
improvising when real events didn't coincide with the 
plan. (If the Army is smart they will NEVER let me 
become an officer.)

I broke a couple of shoulder blades, one elbow, some 
ribs and gouged out one eyeball. The herd broke and 
stampeded in the opposite direction, leaving just me, 
the girl on the stage and the lead bull. I never took 
my eyes off his, but with my peripheral vision I could 
see her eyes had gotten wide; they were pale gray-
green, like mine. Her neck and chest were flushed, her 
breathing irregular. 

I smiled a small half-smile. And I could still hear the 
girls back by the dressing room, but their words were 
too soft for me to make out.

"Time to cut your losses, hoss. Let the girl go and 
beat it." My skin was tight and tingled with little 
sparks that danced all over my body. I could feel my 
short cropped hair standing at attention.

No, I wasn't going to let him go. I just wanted to get 
some distance between the two of them; a bit of a 
comfort zone for me to work in. 

He reached into his jacket pocket with his free hand 
and came out with one of those cute little butterfly 
knives that were so popular back in the 80's. The blade 
was about 4 or five inches long, and I guess he'd been 
practicing with it, 'cause he twirled and flipped and 
clicked and clanked the bejeezus out of the thing until 
he finally locked the grips together. Hey, I was 
impressed. He hadn't lost a single finger during the 
whole demonstration.

Sometimes, God is very good.

He released his grip on the girl's ass and came around 
the stage to get me.

He was big. Biggest I've fought so far. At least six 
inches taller, easily a hundred pounds heavier, huge 
hands, massive chest and arms; he was a good looking 
kid too with curly brown hair and sad brown eyes. Bet 
he did pretty well with the girls, when he was sober 
and thinking straight.

Too bad. He slashed the blade across where my throat 
would have been, if I'd been stupid enough to stay 
there. I ducked under his swipe, and smashed his left 
knee. The entire leg bent in the wrong direction and he 
began to lose his balance and started to topple over. 

He was tough, I'll give him that. The only sound he 
made was a hoarse grunt of pain. 

He shifted all his weight to his remaining good leg, 
regained his balance, flung the knife at me and tried 
to grab me with those big hands of his.

The knife missed me, his hands missed me, and I broke 
his other knee. He slammed to the floor hard on both 
wrecked knees and then he did cry out in pain. I can't 
stand to hear a nearly grown man cry (well, yeah I can, 
but I thought it might upset the girl on the stage) so 
with the edge of my hand I crushed his Adam's apple to 
shut him up. His eyes bugged out and he hit the floor 
pretty much the way the first kid had.

Just so you know, I get no joy or thrill from hurting 
people. I'm not a sadist. The only pleasure there is 
for me is the professional satisfaction I get from 
doing my job well. 

I stood over him and took a long slow breath. Then I 
looked across at the girl, who was still laying on the 
stage and looking at me with those big pale eyes. I 
shrugged and walked over to help her up off the 
platform. 

"Come on, I'll take you home." I said.

"Okay." Her voice was soft, mellow and a little husky.

As she walked back to the dressing room to get her 
things I watched her perfect ass giving that thong a 
real workout and noticed that at the small of her back, 
just above her swelling hips was a palm sized tattoo. I 
couldn't tell just what the design was in the low 
light. Sure was interesting to watch it move though.

She came back out a few minutes later dressed in jeans, 
sneakers and a lightweight jacket over plaid shirt; a 
small gym bag in one hand I guess held the stuff most 
women kept in a purse. She waved so-long to the other 
strippers, who were still peaking around the dressing 
room door, but now they were giving me the eye. 
Violence sometimes has that effect on people.

"Marsha called the cops and the paramedics. They should 
be here in five minutes or so." She informed me as we 
left the club. I guess Marsha was the name of the 
stripper with the cell phone. I nodded to acknowledge 
what she'd told me. At least Marco would get some help.

We got into my truck, an old Chevy pickup that had most 
of the original paint replaced by reddish primer, and 
left the scene of the crime.

"Where are you staying?" I asked, after a few minutes. 
We were leaving the access road and I needed to know 
which way to take her.

"I have an apartment a little ways from the college on 
Poplar Drive." She said.

"You're a college student?"

"Yes. This is my first year. I started dancing to make 
enough money for my tuition."

"You don't have to justify yourself to me."

"I'm not trying to. Just saying what's what. What do 
you do?"

"I kill people." I said. "Sometimes I teach other 
people how to kill people."

She started laughing. Softly, at first; a chuckling 
kind of laugh which grew quickly into a full blown 
belly laugh. A wonderful sound, it was music to my 
ears.

"I never would have guessed." She finally managed to 
gasp out.

And that made me laugh. I don't laugh often and hardly 
ever smile, but as I've said... this girl was something 
special.

***

Her place was only about a ten minute drive from the 
club. Traffic was light and we made good time. I pulled 
into an open parking spot got out, opened the door for 
her and walked her to her apartment. She reached into 
the gym bag and dug out a ring of keys, flicked thru 
and came up with the one for the door's deadbolt. She 
unlocked, opened it and was half-way thru when she 
turned back to me.

"Wanna come in for a drink?" she asked me, her pale 
eyes boring into mine.

I didn't hesitate an instant. "Alright." I followed her 
in, admiring the way her jeans clung to that perfect 
ass.

It was a small apartment, with pretty much standard 
student furnishings; futons, an old love seat, cinder 
block book case, bean bag chairs, cable spool table, 
small stereo with oversize speakers... the usual. My 
quarters on post were larger and better furnished. 

She headed back into what I assumed was the bedroom, 
dropped off her jacket, gym bag and sneakers then 
headed out into the small kitchen.

"What would you like to drink? I have some sodas, a 
couple of beers and half a bottle of Jack or I can make 
some coffee."

I considered quickly and said a beer and a shot of Jack 
would be just fine.

Out in the kitchen I heard the popping sounds of beer 
cans being opened and poured along with a delayed 
'plop' noise.

"Have a seat, I'll be right out!" she called. 

I eased myself into the loveseat, mostly because there 
was a wall behind it, and stretched my legs out. I had 
just gotten settled when she came out; a beer mug in 
each hand, a shot glass in each beer mug filled with 
Jack. She was wearing a snug fitting pair of men's 
boxer shorts and was completely topless.

I admired the way her tits bounced ever so slightly and 
her hips swiveled while she walked over. She handed me 
one of the mugs. She clanked her mug against mine, 
raising it in a toast to me and said, "Thanks for 
coming to my rescue tonight." 

Then she sat down next to me on the loveseat and 
snuggled herself up close.

I took another swallow from the mug and looked her in 
the eyes.

"Not a problem," I said. "I've never much cared for 
people laying hands on what's mine."

She had been sipping her beer and working her way 
deeper under the arm I now had draped across her naked 
shoulders. My free hand was stroking the sweet swelling 
her firm breast, one finger teasing the stiffening pink 
nipple. At my words her eyes got a little wide and she 
pulled back from me a bit.

"Yours? When did I become yours?"

I maintained my grip on her tit, keeping her from 
pulling too far away, looked long and hard into those 
gray-green eyes that were so much like my own and 
smiled just a little bit.

"The moment you blew me a kiss from the stage."

I finished the beer, slid the shot glass to my lips and 
swallowed the couple of ounces of Jack. I set the mug 
down on the rug beside the loveseat, then lifted her up 
and sat her down on my lap. I kept working the nipple 
with one hand, with the other alongside her face as a 
guide I brought our mouths together and let the games 
begin.

Our lips mashed together and we began trying to meld 
our two bodies into one. I forced my tongue between her 
lips and teeth with a fierce demanding that would 
tolerate no resistance, probing her mouth in what 
nearly amounted to rape. 

Once my tongue found hers we started a lingual 
wrestling match the likes of which I have never 
experienced before, one oral muscle desperately trying 
to overwhelm the other. I sucked her tongue deep into 
my mouth, biting down firmly before allowing her to 
retreat back into her own hot cavern and attempt the 
same tactic on me. And as our battle heated up, the 
anger ever so slightly began to recede.

Focus. Try and focus. 

The fight in the strip club had gotten me tightly wound 
up. Fights always do. The worst part is that the more 
into the violence I get the harder it becomes to keep 
the anger from controlling me. It's a constant battle 
that, for the most part, I've been winning. But the 
fight in the bar had loosened my grip on the monster. I 
really needed this girl.

While our tongues fought to the death, I stroked and 
caressed her high firm tits, twisting and tweaking her 
hard little nipples, sometimes tugging them away from 
her chest, then releasing so she could feel them snap 
back against her. This small but highly specific pain 
caused her to moan and whimper into my mouth. 

We forced ourselves apart, she gasping for air and me 
enjoying the look on her face. Her lovely face was 
flushed with excitement and the flush had spread down 
along her neck to her breasts. As she tried to regain 
some composure I bent my head down and took one of 
those delightful little tits between my lips; at first 
sucking hard, trying to draw the whole of it into my 
mouth. 

Then with tenderness; flicking the tip of my tongue 
rapidly across the surface of her erect nipple, finally 
taking it between my teeth and lightly biting down and 
tugging. I moved from one sweet orb to the other, 
taking my time and reveling in the relaxing calm that 
began to grow within me.

Her arms had locked around my neck as she pulled my 
head harder against her chest, barely allowing me 
enough space to breath. 

Fortunately, I can hold my breath a fair amount of 
time. 

My hands were busy stroking her ribs, her shoulders and 
back. Then of their own volition they slid down past 
the small of her back, dove under the boxer shorts and 
each hand filled itself with a firm butt cheek and 
began to kneed and squeeze with a rhythmic intensity 
that matched the beating of her heart.

Her arms relaxed their strangle hold on my neck and she 
shifted her weight back so that it seemed to me she was 
sitting in my hands and she wiggled that delightful 
ass. Her breathing became more uneven and slightly 
raspy. She buried her face in my neck and began kissing 
and biting and nuzzling from earlobe to throat. 

I traced the crack of her sweet ass with one finger, 
delving, probing; mapping out in my mind every line, 
every ridge of skin. My questing digit followed the 
path down till it discovered the heated wetness at the 
gateway to her core. I lubed the finger with the 
moisture on her hairless lips and firmly wormed my way 
inside.

She grunted a bit then gave a tiny sigh. Coming up off 
my neck she looked into my eyes and gave me a wicked 
little grin. 

"Oooh, very good. Keep going." She rasped. Rolling her 
hips down and forward she forced my delving digit 
deeper inside.

Her hands began removing my shirt, only losing two 
buttons in the process. Sadly, to get the thing all the 
way off I had to 

release my grip on her ass and remove my finger from 
her pussy. With the shirt off and tossed aside, she 
then slid off my lap down between my legs and began 
undoing my belt and pants. She bent down, the boxer 
shorts stretching tight across her hips and ass to 
unlace and remove my boots, which joined my shirt in a 
growing pile. I stood up to make her task easier. 

She gazed up at me while she eased my pants down over 
my hips, every few inches stopping to plant a little 
kiss on a newly exposed area of skin. When my dick 
swung out it gently slapped against her cheek. She 
quickly reached up and captured it, pulling back her 
head to get a better look.

As I've said, I'm not a big guy. My dick is only about 
six inches long when it's completely hard, but I've 
been told by some pretty jaded women that it is 
ascetically beautiful. Actually the terms most often 
used are "cute" or "adorable".

She eyeballed my little trouser snake and let out an 
oddly deep sigh and whispered, "There you are." She 
slid my cock into her warm mouth, reached around and 
grabbed my ass the same way I had grabbed hers and 
pulled me deep into her mouth, burying her face in my 
pubic hair.

Focus. 

"Damn, girl!" I hissed softly. The heat, the wetness of 
her lips and the tightness of her throat, the flexing 
of that muscular tongue along the underside of my 
shaft, all these sensations drew my concentration to 
one single physical location and the feeling of calm, 
that had been a tiny trickle, became a river. My 
breathing became a little more ragged, but nothing like 
the gasping and gulping of the beautiful little 
cocksucker at my waist.

She pulled back, creating the most amazing vacuum 
within her mouth; released her lips and began licking 
and laving the head and shaft for all she was worth. 
Then she took me completely into her mouth and throat. 
She tilted her head back and looked up into my eyes and 
I was gazing down into hers, marveling at the innocence 
I saw in her face. How could it be possible for 

her look so angelic and innocent with my cock in her 
mouth? 

I think it was at that moment I began to fall in love. 

At that very same instant, she waggled her eyebrows and 
that angelic, innocent vision I'd been admiring was 
replaced with one so bawdy, wanton and wicked that I 
exploded in her mouth. I hadn't even realized I was 
that close to cumming, but that look just pushed my 
button. And the anger was gone. The tension in my body 
and mind was gone. The struggle was over, for now. 

She finished sucking me off, licking my cock clean, 
then kissed her way up my body to nibble on my neck, 
wrapping her strong arms around my chest.

My breathing returned to normal pretty fast. I looked 
down at the half naked girl pressed against my body and 
smiled. I mean really smiled. I never smile. One hand 
stroked up and down her spine, from shoulders to the 
waistband of her boxers, and the other caressed her 
hair and face.

"That was very nice." I whispered into her ear, and 
then nibbled the lobe. "Thank you."

She tilted her head back and looked at me with those 
exotic eyes of hers, noticing my smile. And her lips, 
which had been pouty and puckered from her previous 
efforts split into the most dazzling grin I have ever 
been blessed to see.

"Now there's something you don't see every day." She 
chuckled.

"What's that?" I asked.

"A real, honest smile on the lips of J.L. Lewis."

My mind was as calm and functional as ever, and it 
snapped up this little bit of information right quick.

"I never told you my name."

"Not tonight you haven't," was all she said.

"You haven't told me your name either."

"You haven't asked." Well she had me there. I had been 
so focused on her body from the moment the fight in the 
bar ended that I had been ignoring a lot of things. 
Very sloppy, very lax.

"Okay, hi there, I'm J.L. Lewis, and I'm delighted to 
have made your acquaintance."

She giggled and tightened her arms around my chest in a 
very familiar kind of hug.

"Very pleased to know you J.L." she said. "You can call 
me 'Baby', for now."

"Have we met before, 'Baby'?"

She giggled again, but a husky, deep in the chest kind 
of giggle.

"J.L., I really think you need to bring that sweet 
talking mouth of yours down between my legs... pretty 
please?" She took my hand from her hair and guided it 
down thru the flap in front of her boxers to her pussy. 
She was hot, and slick and bare as the day she was 
born. Not a trace of pubic hair to be found anywhere... 
believe me, I searched pretty damn thoroughly. 

I used my hand on her back to bring her face to mine 
and we began a tongue wrestling rematch, while my other 
hand tickled and traced, pushed, probed and prodded her 
outer and inner pussy lips and clit. As 'Baby' got 
hotter and more turned on, my hand got more and more 
soaked with her juices. My fingers burrowed deeper 
inside her vaginal tunnel, stroking gently but firmly 
in and out. 

I finally took my hand out of her boxers and pulled 
them down off her hips, past her knees and over her 
feet, tossing them away to land unnoticed somewhere in 
the room. I lay her back on the love seat, one foot on 
the small couch, knee bent and the other leg hanging 
off the cushions offering me unlimited access to her 
steaming sex. 

I slid down her chest, kissing her hard nipples in 
farewell, moving down her ribs and belly, stopping to 
insert my tongue into her sweet little navel, then down 
over her hairless mound. I flattened my tongue down 
hard against her clit and then rasped it up in a long 
lick 'Baby's' breath caught in her throat, and she 
gasped. 

I ran the tip of my tongue down the center of her pussy 
lips, parting them until I reached the location of her 
sweet scented entrance, when I drove my rolled tongue 
as deep inside her pussy walls as I could manage. I 
slipped both hands up under the cheeks of her marvelous 
ass and lifted her hips higher, pressing my face and 
tongue deeper between her wide spread legs. 

Baby began to swivel and grind her hips, pressing her 
hardening and swelling clit roughly into the bridge of 
my nose. I reluctantly released one delicious butt 
cheek, using that hand to flick and pinch and press her 
needy little love button, while my tongue continued it 
exploration of her love canal.

"Ooooohhhh, good, so goooood!" she moaned, rolling her 
head from one side to the other, flinging one arm up 
across her eyes.

I slid my tongue out, replacing it with the finger that 
had been working her clit, searching for the slightly 
knotted bundle of nerves I knew was hiding in there. 

"Ahhhhhhhhh!" she rasped and bucked. I had found what I 
was looking for, and began to massage the nerve bundle. 
The sounds Baby began making were very animalistic, 
mostly grunts and groans and wheezing, and the 
intensity of those sounds only increased as I brought 
my tongue back against her clit. 

I circled the outer edges of that hard little nubbin, 
faster and faster, closing in on it, then dashing the 
tip of my tongue across its hard, pointy tip from left 
to right, going faster and faster, then changing 
direction and flicking up and down.

Baby's entire body seemed to lock up and all her 
muscles contracted causing her to raise her hips higher 
and higher. It was all I do to stay with her elevating 
sex. Then she stopped, her body in a backward crescent 
must have bent as much as she could and shook and 
twitched.

"Oh damn!" she shrieked suddenly and then collapsed, 
leaving me high and damp.

Baby lay limp as a noodle for a few minutes, then her 
chest expanded and a great deep sigh of release 
exploded from within her.

"I needed that SO much." She said at last, opening her 
eyes and looking around, seemingly a bit lost. In time 
her eyes focused on me and those lovely pale eyes got a 
bit wider.

"Boy, have you gotten good at eatin' pussy. That was so 
intense!"

I have never felt so calm and relaxed before, and I 
think it might have displayed itself in the big foolish 
grin that somehow got plastered across my face. 

I lay between her legs, pressing my chest against hers, 
relishing the sensation of her rock hard nipples 
digging into mine and kissed her gently on the 
forehead, each cheek, her nose and lightly on those 
sweet red lips.

Baby wrapped her legs over my hips and her arms around 
my neck and just squeezed me tight.

And my dick woke up again. It started poking 
insistently against Baby's ass. I lifted my hips and 
allowed the head to slide up the crack between her 
cheeks where it rubbed against her opening, finally 
coming to rest between us pressed snugly between her 
swollen outer lips.

She grinned at me as our lips let loose of one another. 
"Looks like someone still has a little energy left."

She began tilting the angle of her hips, rolling and 
rocking and squirming and wiggling until she got the 
head of my cock at the entrance to her pussy, and in 
one deft move engulfed me.

"Yessssss! Fuck me Jerry, fuck me! I wanna feel you 
cum, wanna feel you cum!"

I started thrusting, slowly and deeply, then backing 
out until I very nearly popped free and then driving 
back in. Baby got hotter and more vocal, more insistent 
so I went from slow to fast and before long I was 
jackhammering in and out of her sweet snatch, my balls 
slapping against her ass in a counter rhythm to my 
pounding heart.

I'm not very vocal during sex. Baby, was VERY vocal. 

"Come on... deeper, deeper... oh yeah, oh yeah... oh 
good, good, good... do me hard, Jerry Lee, harder, 
harder, harder... YES, YES, Oh god YES!"

Focus. 

I revel in the peace of the river. I bathe in it, 
wallow in it, dive down into it and try to see if 
there's anything at the bottom. These are the moments I 
live for, the ones I cherish and remember. These 
moments keep me going.

Then a big damn brass gong went off in my head. "Fuck 
me Jerry'? ...hard, Jerry Lee, harder..." 

Abruptly, Baby pushed me away from her and we 
disconnected. She got up quickly and turned around, 
bending over the arm of the loveseat and presenting 
that perfect ass to my view.

"I want you from behind!" she panted. "Fuck me, Jerry 
Lee, NOW!"

I was hot and bothered, horny as a three peckered owl 
and seriously puzzled; but I'd been raised to be a 
gentleman and when a lady said she wanted to be fucked 
NOW, well, what's a gentleman to do?

I grabbed her hips and slid right in to her wetness and 
began thrusting my pelvis against her oh-so warm and 
friendly ass.

The tattoo at the small of her back caught my eye as I 
worked in and out of her pussy. I could finally make 
out what it was. 

A very detailed work (must have cost a small fortune) 
that had as it's center two balls of flame, the colors 
so well done that the flames seemed to be living 
creatures of red, orange and yellow. 

In dark black gothic lettering above the flaming balls 
were the words: DO NOT TOUCH – PROPERTY OF. And below 
the balls were the words: THE KILLER.

My heart gave a lurch inside my chest. One hand let 
loose of her hip and traced over the tattoo. I slowed 
down my thrusting for a moment as I took in the 
colorful image. Then I bent over and kissed the small 
of her back, licking the balls of fire. 

Then I shoved my hips against my baby's ass as hard as 
I could. I ground my hips roughly against that perfect 
ass, driving as far inside her as I could. I slid my 
hands up along her waist, over her ribs, up along her 
beautiful tits, cupping and squeezing and raising her 
up so her back rested against my chest. 

We remained like that for a few long moments; I was 
balls deep in her pussy, her ass spooned against my 
lap, her tattoo snug against my rock hard belly and my 
hands holding her tightly to my chest as I nuzzled her 
neck.

"Hello, little sister," I growled softly, then I came 
inside her like a rocket and I felt her quiver and grin 
as I did. 

END

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 39