Night Terror

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“Come on, people, stand away from the door please,” the tour guide yelled to the happy, milling people. His eye invariably fell to the cleavage of the nearby blonde in the scant bathing suit. It was a unique costume for gliding, very original and attractive. It had most of the males in the cable car groaning in agony and lust.
The harsh overhead lights dimmed momentarily, breaking the tour guide’s amazed stare. He tore his eyes away from the blonde’s ample cleavage and looked out the window at the approaching platform. He hoped that nobody noticed the bulge of his cock, hard and thrusting against the material of his pants.
“How do we know the gliders are safe?” the blonde asked, intentionally returning his attention to her. The tour guide swallowed twice before he could answer. As his eyes went to the blonde, he used a steal will to keep his eyes from going to her chest. Her companion, an equally blonde and flawless male, smiled at the tour guide’s dilemma. He liked seeing the reactions to Anne’s amazing figure. It made her seem more… attractive, more desirable.
“Wa… we test them before we leave. Each one has been tested. You will see that I will pick a glider at random, I use no special machine. I would not jump off a 3 thousand foot cliff without a tested glider.”
“Wonderful. Are there any rules against having sex on the way down,” she asked in her innocent, little- girl voice.
“Oh God,” the tour guide groaned, turning away so he could push his cock down into his pants without being observed. The car bumped into the platform, coming to a sudden stop. The tour guide fell through the doors as they opened. He waited for the crowd to exit before he grabbed one end of a foam box. His assistant grabbed the other end and they carried the heavy box out onto the landing. The group watched curiously as the tour guide repositioned the box and threw open the lid. Inside were a jumble of archaic looking torches and a jumble of web-belts, each containing a 6″x12″ pack on the rear.
He handed the first torch and belt to the blonde, before she had the opportunity to bend and retrieve one herself. Her thin blouse strained to contain her breasts, bending could bring forth and explosion of female flesh. The tour guide couldn’t stand such a sight He was already horny as hell and there was no prospect of having his hard cock taken care of in the middle of the night, on top of a mountain.
“Oh look,” a cute black-haired woman said, pointing down the slope toward Aspen far below. “Why are the lights shimmering?”
“The air currents,” the tour guide said, handing her a torch and belt. Her hand sagged under the weight of the belt.
“How can something so heavy, be lighter than air?” she asked, looking at her companion.
“It’s the electronics,” her companion said in disdain. He was obviously a CEO type, slightly balding and looking for a thrill. Gliding was the next step up from bungie jumping.
“Technically, it’s not lighter than air,” the tour guide said, thrusting belts and torches into the hands around him. “It’s slightly heavier. That’s why it’s called a glider. You still fall, but at a dramatically slower rate.”
“I feel like the statue of liberty,” a young gay man said, posing dramatically with a torch in his hand.
“On guard,” his companion said, striking a fencing pose. They pretended to fence, clanging their torches together, to the complete horror of the tour guide. He hurried forward and slapped down their torches.
“Please, those are very special devices and they cost a fortune. Treat them with respect.”
“I’m an olympic athlete,” the second gay man said, holding his torch aloft and pretending to run in place. The tour guide whined in frustration. Sometimes he wished he could bitch-slap a few of the assholes in these groups. On the other hand, he thought as he watched the black haired woman reach down to adjust her socks. The bulge of her perfect ass, and rounded pubes in her black form-fitting tights was bordering on illegal. He could think of many things he would like to slap on her, but not with his hand.
“Why do we have these?” A portly man in a black windbreaker asked, bouncing the torch in his hand.
“We are called Liberty Gliding Tours, so it’s made to look like a replica of the statue of liberty torch,” the tour guide explained. “But it is much, much more than a simple light source. True, it’s made to provide the most pleasant light, very conducive to night gliding, but it is also a recording device, to record your Aspen vacation, and a GPS tracking device in case any of you try to escape with our valuable equipment or, God forbid, in case one of you goes down. There is also a tracking device in the belt.”
“I’m going down,” the buxom blonde said, pretending to whisper. She elicited several giggles from the men around her.
“Now, everyone turn on your gliders and step forward, two at a time,” he said, clapping his hands. There was actually a steep slope below them, not a cliff. If the belt failed, they may be cut and bruised, but not killed.
“Nobody leaps until I say so,” he said in a serious voice.
“How do we control them?” the black haired girl asked nervously. She stepped so close that her hair brushed his nose. It smelled like watermelons. He had a perfect view of her rounded breasts, as she bent forward to play with the pack resting against her cute ass. The guide had to resist the urge to touch them. She looked up into his startled face.
“I was just getting to that. Do all of you see that little disk on your belt, the one on your left side in a pouch?”
“This one?” the black haired girl asked, lifting a half dollar sized disk on a wire.
“That’s it. The controls are as simple as they can get. Hold gaziantep travesti that disk in the palm of your right hand. Hold it over your shoulder a little… yes, perfect,” he said, looking around the group with their hands held in the air.
“First squeeze the disk to set it to the position most comfortable for you, then move your hand, and the disk inside, left or right, to go left or right, up or down to go up or down. It’s that simple. With practice you can do tricks such as rolls, somersaults, or spins.”
“Waycool,” the blonde said, doing a little dance with the torch and disk held in the air.
“You two first,” he indicated the blonde and her partner. He was getting tired of her teasing, and her partner’s smug smiles. Step up to the platform,” he said, turning them slightly to make sure each had a red light showing on their packs.
“Ok, raise your disk hands, squeeze, and step off.”
“Oh God,” the blonde said and stepped off. Her long, nearly naked body glistened in the torch light as it gently glided off the platform, dropping slightly at first, then gently gliding down the hill. Their movements were jerky, at first, until they grew used to the controls. They heard a piercing streak, then laughter. Looking down the hill the tour guide saw the torch rolling over and over as the two blondes did somersaults in the air.
“That’s so dangerous,” the tour guide said under his breath.
“Doing somersaults is dangerous?” the black haired girl asked, stepping up to the edge of the platform.
“No, doing them so close to the ground is dangerous. If you people get the urge for aerobatics, do them with more altitude. You have hours to descend, if you like, you don’t have to skim the slopes like they are.”
The black haired girl and her partner stepped off. Next were two boys in their late teens. They gave each other an evil smile as they turned off their torches and leaped into the darkness. The tour guide new they planned on terrorizing the other gliders. Good, it would add to the excitement.
“Next,” he waved the gay men forward.
“Have you ever glided alone and naked,” the first gay man asked the tour guide in an intimate manner.
“Naked, yes, alone, certainly not,” he said, giving them a little push. They laughed and jeered as they disappeared into the darkness. Their torches cast a glow over the slope as they descended. Each torch made a pleasant island of light, in a vast sea of darkness.
“My God, that’s so beautiful,” a red haired woman said. She was last, and alone. It was funny, he couldn’t remember her arriving with the rest. Of course he had not been giving his group his full attention.
The tour guide had his own belt for this very reason, in case there was an extra unpaired tourist. Everyone on the tour was required to fly in pairs.
“I know, it’s magnificent. I love this job,” the tour guide said gently.
“It’s very romantic,” the girl said.
“It is,” the tour guide agreed while strapping on his belt and checking the red light on the pack, before he spun the belt around into the proper position. He checked hers, then looked at her expectantly.
“Why don’t they simply double over and hang by their belts,” she asked nervously.
“A power field, similar to an invisible board, will spring up at your back the minute you step off. It adheres to your body while the belt is activated, until your body makes contact with the ground. You’re nervous, aren’t you?” he asked shyly. She nodded with a quick smile.
“Your belt is on. Simply raise your hand and step off… when you are ready. Look, there goes my assistant in the cable car, now you have to jump, there’s no other way down.”
“Now or never,” she said, leaping into the darkness. The tour guide stepped off with his hand raised. He dropped it slightly, speeding up to join his partner as she rushed down the hill.
“What if I lower my hand too much and plow into the ground?” she asked as the wind whipped her hair into her face.
“It can’t, there is a fail safe mechanism built into the belt. You could descend entirely under the control of the belt. It won’t allow you to touch the ground until you reach the beacon at base camp. Slow down,” he yelled into the rushing air.
“Lift your hand,” he said patiently. She did and slowed almost immediately. With a sigh of relief the tour guide slowed as well. The wind had been cold. Now that they traveled slowly, the warm night air warmed him again quickly. He turned his torch down and shined it on the passing ground. Trees and bushes drifted by in dim light of the torch. It reminded him of how the bottom of a shallow lake looked, while drifting by in a boat.
The torch automatically intensified when the ground dipped slightly, like a search light piercing the darkness. A cricket squeaked in the night, first growing louder, then falling behind them as they glided past. Fireflies blinked in a large clearing below. The cable car passed 100 yards away, descending quickly and passing out of sight between two small hills.
“My God, this is so beautiful?” the girl gasped again. Look there’s another city,” she pointed to the east.
“From the very top of the mountain you can see seven major cities,” the tour guide nodded. He suddenly noticed how the torch seemed to light the different angles of her face, giving her a classic, unreal beauty. Her dark red hair seemed to have a life of it’s own. Like a medusa, her hair spread around her in tiny, beautiful red tentacles, ever-moving and ever-seeking, perhaps a new victim or lover.
“I can’t even see the other’s,” the red haired woman said shyly. “We’re all alone.”
“It’s a large mountain and we are but small mortals,” he said, pretending to quote some famous author.
“Are you a member of the mile-high club,” she asked unexpectedly.
“Is that a proposition?”
“And if it was?”
“I would be honored,” he said, altering his descent to draw closer to her.
“Hand me your torch,” he said, extending his hand.
“Unlike the others, I know how to turn off the recording devices,” he said with an evil laugh.
“You mean those first two blondes…” she stopped, giggling to herself.
“Every little bump and grind will be recorded,” he said, giving the base of her torch a deaf twist. He handed the torch back and did the same to his own.
“They should make a wonderful movie. Now, we are truly alone,” he said, gliding closer until they touched. He inhaled deeply of her unique perfume. It was enticing, irresistible. She suddenly looked VERY desirable. In fact she just might be the most beautiful woman he had ever met. Her green eyes seemed to grow larger as he looked into them. He believed that her hair even glowed brightly, but he refused to take his eyes off hers. In a moment her hands sought his body.
“There’s a mesh bag in your backpack to hold clothing,” he whispered. She reached back and found his first. It was attached to his belt by a strong cord.
In a moment they were both naked. Cold, in the chilled evening air, the guide was happy to make contact with the redhead. She was warm and soft against his skin. She seemed to melt into every curve and bump as if they were made for each other. He ran his left hand over her soft, ample breasts. His breath came faster as he ran his hand down to her soft pliable ass cheek and held it in a firm grasp. His lips met her’s, her tongue snaked into his mouth, searching as if it had a life of it’s own.
The guide felt himself getting hot, hotter than he could ever remember getting with previous women. This girl was different, like the first time he’d ever made love to a woman, only stronger. He was shaking like a school boy.
His hand snaked into the crack of her ass. His tongue explored her mouth, while his fingers explored her ass.
Spinning slowly as they drifted down the mountain, with their right hands intertwined and held above their heads like dancers, with the disks contained inside, they kissed and withered in the air as they passed slowly over trees, streams, and meadows.
The guide released the redhead’s hand and sank down her body until he faced her soft breasts. With a gentle touch and soft lips he kissed and explored her breasts until she shivered beneath his touch. She was breathing rapidly, out of control. She suddenly dropped her hand to grab his face, and was pulled out of his arms.
“Release the disk,” he called as she fell. “The belt will fly itself,” he whispered, dropping his own hand so he could join her. They both slid the disks into their pouches and held on to each other, exploring, kissing, shivering under the lips of the other. In a moment they went into the 69 position. The tour guide nuzzled her soft, swollen pedals of flesh. She smelled sweet and delicious. His eager lips sucked her pussy lips into his mouth. He pulled on the flesh of her pussy, then sought out her clit and sucked briefly. His tongue suddenly slid in and out of her warm envelope of flesh.
She gasped and withered beneath him. He felt his cock enter her hot lips and slide completely inside. The guide had a firm 6 and 1/2 inches of cock, it was enough, if not enormous, but he had never seen anybody take his entire length into their mouth right up to his balls, until now. It felt heavenly. Her nose was pressed against his balls. Her throat muscles worked over the length of his cock, milking it even though her mouth never move.
The guide’s mouth sucked her clit. His teeth pulled and released it, then he sucked harshly, while his nose sank into her dark, sweet vulva. Her juices coated his face and nose. He worked his face farther into her pussy. She was hot on his face. He felt as if her pussy would engulf him, swallow his face first, then the rest of his body like a snake eating a frog.
Her soft thighs bent forward and he found his head clamped between her legs. His hands sought and clamped onto her firm ass. He ate her savagely, wanting to make her feel as wonderful as he felt. He could feel the fire building in his loins. He would cum in her mouth, while she came against his face. He wanted to sink his cock into those hot, wet, pussy lips, but there was plenty of time, all night if they liked.
“Oh, uh, uh, unh,” she groaned, withdrawing her mouth so only the head of his cock filled her lips. She groaned even louder, her cries beginning to echo off the rocks and trees below. Her lips sucked the head of his cock automatically, while she concentrated on the pleasure spreading between her own soft thighs. The tour guide was good, very experienced.
With his face tightly clamped between her legs she humped her hot sex against his face, while he lapped her pussy with long, hard strokes of his tongue. She withered, crying ever-louder. Suddenly she stiffened and screamed, clamping his head in a death-grip, she shuddered and pumped her pussy against his face. The guide wanted to pull his cock out of her mouth before she bit him, but she refused to release it.
He stopped trying when it was evident that her orgasm was lessening. In a moment she lay limp in his arms, breathing harshly around his cock.
The guide held completely still, with his mouth held over her wet pussy, unmoving other than a gentle sucking motion. In a moment her legs opened, as if by magic. Holding onto his waist, she turned and faced him, then kissed him passionately, even though her juice still coated his face. She smiled and licked his face clean, while he squirmed in discomfort.
“I want to fuck you hard,” he whispered. Somehow she looked even more beautiful in her disheveled state with her hair going in all directions, her breath heaving in her chest. He was just inches from her face, her hard, pointed nipples pocked against his chest. Her warm skin seemed to give him comfort, and a sensual pleasure.
“Let’s make love now,” he gasped, before kissing her again. She responded eagerly, then pulled away. A shadow crossed her face. He wondered if he had said something wrong, but a sudden smile lit her face again, before she kissed him and turned and turned to slid down until she hung between his feet. She held each of his feet in her hands. She pulled until her crotch met his. He quickly positioned his cock downward and entered her dripping wet pussy. One of her legs was in his face. He hugged it tightly against his chest. The other was behind his back. From this position his cock seemed huge inside her. It sank between her hot, wet lips slowly, gently, endlessly. Eventually her pelvis was pressed tightly against his own. She held onto his legs and began pulling herself against him. He moaned in pleasure as his long cock sank up to the hilt, filling her abdomen with hot meat. The intense heat of her pussy had him throbbing, straining to grow inside her. He wanted to fill her to her stomach.
She pulled her pussy into his hard, throbbing cock, while he held onto her foot and slowly sucked her toes into his mouth. With his loins growing hotter, he mindlessly felt her pussy grasping and releasing his cock, as it slid in and out. Brutally, hurting both her and him, she pounded her pelvis into his. The wet slap of meat echoed loudly off the passing scenery. The guide felt like he was entering the kingdom of heaven. He had never felt so complete, so sexy and brutal. He was changing, growing, becoming more than just himself. He now knew what it meant to make love, and he was making love, not having mere sex. Sex itself was puny and insubstantial, as insignificant as taking a piss. This was more, this was love.
They made love harshly, madly, mindlessly as they gently glided down the mountain. The tour guide new he would remember that night forever. This woman had spoiled him for any other woman on earth. There was no other woman on earth for him, she was the only one. He felt as if his very soul was being sucked into her body through his cock. He could feel himself melting into her. He could feel her heat intensifying. In a moment the heat became uncomfortable, then intolerable. Where he felt he never wanted to be separated from he before, he now tried in vain to pull himself loose. Even as his seed filled her vagina, he struggled to pull free, all in vain.
The tour guide suddenly screamed as the heat seared his flesh. He tried to push the woman away, but they seemed to be glued together. He could smell his flesh cooking. Agony ripped through his body. In a moment the heat of her body melted through her web belt and she fell a dozen feet to the ground. She landed on her feet like a cat, naked and glorious. Like a lion, she shook her hair back and sniffed the air. She looked up at the screaming, burning man and a frown darkened her face.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, then ran off into the forrest.

“One by one the tourists glided into base camp. The last two, the tour guide and an unknown woman, were drifting slowly toward camp, in no great hurry. Later they appeared to drift far apart, drifting gently perhaps under automatic control. An hour later the woman’s burned, empty belt approached the base camp and dropped to the ground. Fourteen minutes later, the tour guide drifted in. His body was blackened and lifeless. Women screamed, men turned away in horror. A search and investigation began immediately. Since both belts were burned, technicians immediately checked the belts for a malfunction, only to find they were functioning perfectly.
The coroner was tempted to rule the death as spontaneous human combustion, but chose to make the official cause of death, “by unknown causes.” An intensive search for the woman’s body began. She was never found. Months passed and the search was called off. Stories of ghosts, meteorites, and terrorists circulated, but nothing was ever found. It was one of the 21st century’s greatest mysteries.

Lars Paterson rubbed his hands together in front of his fireplace. He looked at the empty wood box and sighed. It was cold outside. He hated to make another trip to the wood pile, but it was necessary. The snow looked beautiful, gliding past his front windows, but it was cold.
He bundled up and opened his front door. To his amazement, he saw a beautiful red-haired woman standing in front of his door, looking down at his welcome mat, rubbing it with a bare foot. She was stark naked, leaning against the door sill. She seemed to be exhausted although not cold. She should have been freezing. But the only thought which entered Lars’ mind was that she was alone and naked. He gasped and stepped back, then ran forward and pulled her inside.
“My God, you must be freezing,” he said as he grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around her.
She flinched away from him at his words, but eagerly welcomed the blanket. “No, but I’m hungry and tired. Can I stay?” she begged with big green eyes that seemed to grow as he looked into them.
“Sure, sure, stay as long as you like,” he gasped, holding the blanket around her naked body.
“Where did you come from?” he gasped, noticing her enticing perfume.
“I’ve been through hell,” she said with a dark, serious look. She slowly turned away. A brief wicked smile which lit her face. Her eyes glowed briefly. She licked her lips, then turned to face him. “Pure hell,” she said again, before pulling him into a kiss.

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