owyn Book 1 The CageChapter 10 Weapons
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I’m standing at a bus stop on the Lower Ormeau Road when a para brick comes up the street–four squaddies with SA-80s. They’re on the other side of the street. One of the guys gets down on one knee and enfilades me with his weapon.
Two of the others stand back to back while the other scopes.
I wonder if the weapon’s on safety but no one’s ever been shot this way to my knowledge so I don’t really care.
The squaddies do a Blackhawk Down run across the street and flatten against the wall of the gas works behind me. There’s no gas in it any more. The IRA blew up the pipes so now we all use oil. I can just see Gerry Adams and Martin McGuinness sittin’ in one of those moldy kitchen houses in West Belfast, saying:
‘Hey, if we want to drive this United Ireland agenda forward we should blow up the gas supply. Let them use oil. The price vagaries will drive them nuts,’
And McGuinness answering Adams’ fine plan with:
‘Catholics and protestants alike.’
‘Yep.’ says Adams.
‘Republicans and loyalists without fear or favor?’
Adams says:
‘Yep.’
McGuinness has doubts but goes with the flow. Adams anticipates his demurral and adds:
‘We’re equal opportunity terrorists.’
McGuinness says:
‘Yep–kill ‘em all . . . what the feck.’
Adams turns distractedly to look over his shoulder and says to no one in particular:
‘Is there a wee woman here to make a cuppa tea or what?’
McGuinness looks doubtful. I can just see Adams sitting behind his desk on the terrorist train as it rolls through Lambeg and Lisburn, with the driver looking into the backs of the wee kitchen houses in case some wee woman is washing her milkwhite breasts at the sink. Worth a wank.
Anyway, what I mean to say is I can see Adams with his peaked hat with the red star on it saying:
‘The personal life in Ireland is dead.’
Meanwhile, the gasworks is due for gentrification. Give it a couple years and there’ll be artists, artisans, craftspeople, boutiques all over the place.
Meanwhile the artists of death have suddenly dashed over to my bus shelter. One says to me:
‘Alright boss?
‘Alright corporal,’ I say and I say it pleasantly. I don’t say ‘hope you guys get a trip to tap city today. I love it when players go down.” But I do.
The bus comes. I get on and it trundles through the lower middle class Catholic district toward the Ormeau Bridge. I could have bought houses here for credit card money in 1992–now they’re out of sight. The Ormeau Bridge is the watershed. The Orangemen march down to the bridge and stop because the peelers have erected impenetrable shields on the bridge to keep them out of the Catholic Lower Ormeau.
This really pisses them off. They present a petition and then the Reverend so and so says a prayer asking for God’s help in these Godless times. They’re really religious so they are, but. Yet the Catholics are no better. They learned their PR at the Lenin School of Declamation.
Last time the IRA tapped a couple Loyalist players outside the house it sounded like Chinese firecrackers going off. I was up in my paneled attic room watching CNBC, reading the paper and writing a telecoms article–big multiplexing day.
I went over to the window and realized I was hearing AK’s . . . tap, tap, tap. Cyclic rate of 600rpm. That’s a lot of ammo to carry but the IRA was using burst fire . . . tap tap tap.
A guy comes down the Ormeau Road with his AK in a garbage bag–he’s a kid. He wears jeans and a white tee shirt and white trainers. He gets languidly into the back of a red Ford and fucks off.
I go down to see the bodies. My side of the Ormeau Road, up here at South Parade is middle and upper middle but just across the street stretch streets of lower middle and lower. Now they’re pouring out of their warrens like the night of the undead.
The guys are lying face down and I can’t see the exit wounds. I wonder if those 7.92mms are nestling somewhere in their viscera. There’s an anger in this crowd. They say:
‘Where’s the fuckin’ ambulance but,’ and stare distractedly down the street to see if there’s an ambulance coming up the road from the City or the Royal.
One wee woman says:
‘We’re gonna get some fuckin’ taigs tonight.’
But they’re no better.
I watch the guys die and then go back upstairs to see what Mark Haines, Joe Kernen and David Faber are going to say about today’s Dow Jones open. New York is five hours behind.
I wish I could carry a licensed short here. Some guy, August 1993, dumps a gym bag in the door of the Northern Bank next door to me and when it goes off I feel my three-story Victorian gentleman’s townhouse lift on its foundation for less than a second and then thump down again. I’m in the attic which is why I’m not dead. The loose old windows in the attic just pop open without breaking.
But downstairs all the carpets are fine-frosted with powdered glass from the big six-foot sash windows. I’ve been sucking back a 40 of Powers Three Swallows Irish so I take all this in a neuron at a time.
Out on the street all the windows are blown out down to about number 30 on my side and number 31 across the street. Everybody’s outside. It’s party time. I hang with a peeler for awhile discussing the relative merits of autos versus revolvers–autos lots of shots but they can jam, revolvers not many shots but very reliable. Hey, they run this conundrum in Soldier of Fortune almost every month.
Eamonn the magical thinker is out (it’s a mixed street). He mumbles inchoate things. Mrs. Glenny is out, hunchbacked and older than I can imagine. She used to be the almoner at the Royal. I’m not sure what an almoner does but I think it’s something cool.
I was glad the bottle wasn’t empty.
Days like this there’s no tomorrow . . . only the daze.
Then come the bureaucrats to check the damage, cut a check.
It’s like that. Belfast in a bowl of hills. An area of outstanding natural beauty. Even in the war zone people are nice. By day they’re your cabbie, your butcher, the bus driver.
I remember fucking Eilish in 1973 or maybe 75. She’d finally given up her virginity when she was maybe 30 years old. She went to confession Saturday nights wearing a headscarf.
She didn’t want any mortal sins going into the priest’s ear for his later sweat-tossed delectation. So she stuck to venial.
Venial was fun. In 1963 she wore a Sunday white dress and I helped her up on the dresser to hang a picture. Then she came down in my arms, skirts riding up, garters and stockings, and we kissed deep and she took out my cock and I could see it in the wardrobe mirror and the bedroom door was open and I wondered about the wee girls upstairs–what they might see.
But Eilish pushed me out before I came on that 73 or 75 night. She thought better of it and I was never in her again. The bombs echoed round the bowl of the hills every 15 minutes or so. I went out with my camera and Canadian Press card and took pictures. A sergeant said:
‘No faces boss.’
Another time I’m in the Club Bar on University Road. There’s a red-headed Queens sociology undergrad sitting nearby. There’s a Press Association guy at my table–a boring fucking Brit–flat affect–they live in personality-free zones. But I talkee talkee to this guy giving off these ‘I’m a shit hot foreign correspondent’ vibes to see if I can pique the redhead into a fuck.
Around 11 she gets up and I say as she passes:
‘Will I ever see you again.’ She rejoins:
‘Ye might. ifya come round to Donegall Pass at midnight.’
I can’t believe it but now I have to kill time till midnight. Finally I can’t take it any more. I buy a mickey of whiskey and trundle down Donegall Pass and knock her door. No one comes. I sort of lean against the door far as I remember and it falls down. I wander around the second flo
or calling her name.
I hear a flurry downstairs and up the stairs she comes with some wee Irish guy whom I figure maybe is the owner of the joint. He says ‘you broke my fuckin’ door’ and smacks me in the mouth. I taste blood. I say:
‘Sorry. It fell over, Have a drink.’
This mollifies him sufficiently to desist from whacking me again. There’s a moral authority problem in these situations. It’s hard to whack the landlord back when you’ve just trashed his door.
But Rosanne or whatever her–I don’t remember–name is says ‘it’s ok I know this guy,’ so we go in her room and start fucking with no preliminaries. Then we drink some whiskey and fuck again and smoke cigarettes. She is good to be with but I have to go back to Montreal on Monday and this is Friday. I only came over to Belfast to pick up my laundry (don’t ask–it’s a long story but it’s dead true, I had two tickets back to back).
She’s good to be with. Saturday morning she asks me if I have any money. I give her two quid and she goes out and gets eggs, potato farls, bacon, tomatoes, cheese, bananas–good things to eat. We eat and we fuck and then we go drinking.
She is so good to be with. There’s a laconic air about her as if she’s seen more than a wee papist from Derry oughta. All weekend we eat, we drink, we fuck.
I have a car somewhere. Monday morning I find the car and go up to the Club Bar. There’s this guy Aidan who’s going to Paris in the evening but I say I’ll give him a run up to the airport. So off we go. I feel good but I would have been sad had I known I’d never see Roseanne again. She was so good to be with.
On Sunday she said ‘we can’t fuck any more, I’m too sore’. So we cuddled and kissed and ate and drank and cuddled and kissed and I taught her to use the lips, the tongue but not the teeth.
We get to the airport and I have to take the car back. Aidan wants to jump out and go straight in. He insists. When I dump the car and go back he’s taken the last seat to London. He doesn’t even need it but he takes it. I have to connect for Montreal. I’ve got a job there, editing a tabloid and my boss, Joanie, has given me the ultimatum. After awhile the British Airways women get me on a flight to Glasgow.
When I get back to Montreal there’s a blizzard. My cab inches inches inches from Dorval to Joanie’s house. We drink and fuck and then drink again. One of her sons keeps knocking on the bedroom door to be let in.
-30-
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Hello dosto kaise ho. App ke bahut sare mail mile. Mujey kushi hai ki app ko meri khahani bahut pasand aayi khas taur se mujey girls ke mail jyada mile thanku very much. Bahut bhaut dhanyawad all girls which u have demanded for next part so pls enjoy this part n tell me how u like my stories. Jab me bhaiya ke sath disco me gayi to bhaiya mere ko kiss kare bole jao pahele dress change karke ao me boli nahi bahiya me nahi change karungi tabhi bahiya bole please neetu maine kaha nahi bhaiya muey...
Had it been a while since this suspect had come to me, and if my beautiful sister was a little bisexual? perhaps because of his sometimes a bit too to be narcissistic for to the fact that it is a girl-woman very hottie :-P as I have already said several times in the my previous blog-stories :-P, the fact is that a day I'm go to do the sneaker :-P (and this is nothing new with my nice sister :-P), the reason why I came to this was our knowledge of a girl, white, namely russian like us,...
Up till that night I had never thought of my girl in a sexual way and did not realize she had really grown up and was starting to fill out her young body. Having been very busy with selling my business and getting a divorce I had not been with a woman in several months. Due to this I guess I was primed and ready when it happened. We had finished dinner and cleaned up the kitchen and Jan said she had some homework to do so went to her room. I checked the boob tube and there was nothing on so I...
Every girl has a dark secret and in my case, it was sexual, as is normal but the dark part was, it was with someone close to home, and nobody comes closer to a girl than her father, especially if she was the instigator, as was the case with me.Being the only c***d I was spoilt and preened over. Celebrating my twelfth birthday as my coming of age, I was treated to a day out, a nice meal, and two glasses of bubbly, what harm can two glasses of bubbly do to a young girl, after all, French c***dren...
Finally some time alone... As I prepared the water for the bag full I used what was left over from my previous filling. It was about 2 quarts mixed with Johnson’s baby shampoo and 2 tablespoons of baking soda. I mixed in some hot water and tested its temperature bit too hot so I cooled it down with more cool water. The pitcher used was a gallon. Almost to the top 4 quarts. It was perfect temperature. Quickly poured into the big blue enema bag that was hanging bungeed off the shower bar in the...
FetishHello dosto! Sabhi bhabhiyo, or girls ko mera pyar bhara namskar. Me niks from delhi. Ye stories meri or ek bhabhi ki hai jo mujhe train me mili. Dosto me story start karu usse pahle apne bare me bata deta hu. Dosto mera naam soham hai. Meri age 25 yr hai. Mere lund ka size 6.5incha lambha or 3 inch mota hai. Ha dosto mujhe ye jarur batana ki apko meri story kesi lagi or koi mujhse milna chahe to mujhe mail kar sakte hai ye bat apke or mere bich me hi rahegi, plz dosto mujhe mail jaruur...
The leaves were changing from green to red. The air was brisk with the promise of a sunny autumn day. Giving a hike in the mountains an erotically delicious idea. As we made our start up the mountain you took my hand in yours. A warm intoxicating smile came across your face. Mischief was ablaze in your eyes. I could only imagine what was on your mind. Just a few more steps and we came to the bottom of a waterfall. Drawing me closer, you held my face in your hands and kissed my lips softly....
"God dammit, why can't I focus today?" I muttered to myself as I brought my fists down on the piano keys in front of me. Today had just been ridiculous. As an avid classical vocalist and pianist, I knew I needed to practice at least two hours every day, but today it had been difficult. My mind kept wandering off, drifting away to some unknown thoughts floating about in my head, causing my normally nimble fingers to fumble over the keys of my beloved baby grand piano. Knowing that this would...
Love StoriesAfter coming home from work early on a Thursday afternoon, I slip in the backdoor and as I’m putting my jacket on the hook I can hear some strange noises. I walk to the living room door and peer through the crack. To my surprise (a nice surprise at that), I see you lay on the floor naked, with porn playing on the TV. I get an instant solid erection. I notice on the floor around you there are 2 of your dildos. In your hands are another 2, a large clear one buzzing away and a smaller pink one. I...
Wife LoversHearing many tales of the vast fortunes and powerful artifacts lying in wait within the great forest covering the newly found continent of Farthen, you can’t help but be floored to try your luck, risking it all to make it big at last. However, unbeknownst to you, great peril lurks within the confines of the forest. Strange beasts, unknown plants and more prowl within, uniquely adapted to “prey” on any unsuspecting and ill-equipped souls who wander in. Author Note: Just started this today...
FantasyThe morning after our day at the lake, I was half-convinced I had dreamed the whole thing, from the feel of Cait’s amazing tits to getting a blowjob from my stunning big sister Megan. But at the breakfast table, Megan gave me a lewd smile, which of course our parents didn’t notice, and started playing footsie with me under the table. I knew my pecker was in for another day of adventure. Just watching her eat her breakfast banana filled me with lustful thoughts.Megan dressed for the day in her...
IncestCharlie is still learning how to live his life with his hot new stepmom, Nicole Doshi. Nicole is extremely sensual and fit, which combines to leave Nicole in public spaces dressed in tight clothes while she works out and shows off her body. Today, Charlie has walked in on Nicole working out. He watches without her seeing him for a while and slides his hand down his pants for a sneaky meat beating until Nicole notices him. Pretending not to notice the big boner, Nicole makes small talk with...
xmoviesforyouBreathing hard coming to the office from the underground, I straightened my short turquoise summer dress as I sat down on my chair next to my colleagues. Pressing my flesh colored stocking clad knees together, I slipped a hand between my legs to my smooth naked thighs. Decorum prohibited me from sliding a finger into my naked, wet pussy. My reflection and that of my three fellow employees in the large mirror against the opposite wall reminded me of where I was. We were in the boardroom of a...
I encourage you to read part one of the story to understand the perspective in which it was written. After you read part one you’ll understand the shift of perspective. ***** David returned from his family trip to find Abbie swimming, that was nothing unusual and he watched her as she went through her paces. The college swimming team would have first practices in a few weeks and he knew she would be very busy trying to make the team. Abbie made her turn toward the shore and noticed David at...
*** Anomalistic Encounter is a short cyberpunk erotica that takes place in the same futuristic world as Dreaming of Eden, but occurs before the grand events of my novel. Download my novel for free, see my profile for the link. *** New York City was abandoned twenty-five years before it had become an Outlaw Zone, a quarantined city controlled by The Mara Salvatrucha Mafia (MS-13). Legal citizens live in the underground super-cities. Due to chaotic weather and lack of upkeep, the Big Apple is...