out there. Or all three of them huddled somewhere near the far corner of the building.
In my blizzard of uncertainty I looked down for the first time since I'd walked out on the ledge. I quickly saw that a crowd had assembled in the street thirteen floors below us, watching my every move as they contemplated the apparent spectacle of my impending suicide.
The beam of a searchlight suddenly began piercing through the darkening skies, heavy rain clouds moving in with the twilight. Abruptly, the searchlight's hot glare burned against my bare skin, briefly highlighting the front of my naked body, bathing my tits and cunt in its glow.
'Now I see you,' the man on the ledge hissed in a voice that suddenly sounded all too familiar. 'I see everything you've got, boobie.'
My mind chugged to get my reasoning process restarted, but the commotion below was now becoming too loud to let me think.
'Come down immediately,' a voice blared through a makeshift p.a. system, 'or we're coming after you.'
It didn't seem like a very sympathetic approach to attract the interest of a potential suicide victim; however, since killing myself was the last thing on my mind, I didn't give it a second thought. But the true implication of the remark from the p.a. system suddenly and astonishingly became clear when a blast of orange light flickered from on top of a nearby building. The explosion of gunpowder sent a high-powered sniper's bullet thudding into the wall three inches from my left ear, as the blast that had propelled it echoed in the canyon of buildings.
'They're shooting at you!' the man on the ledge cried, sounding strangely triumphant.
'Why?' I pleaded.
'Because an FBI agent called the local police before you got here and told them he had infiltrated a subversive organization and had just gotten a tip that a guerilla terrorist was going to bomb the Creel Building, using a secret escape route along the southern ledge,' he spat rapidly, this time leaving no mistake about the triumph in his voice.
'Marmelstein!' I gasped.
'The priest or the G-man?' he replied nonchalantly.
'The G-man…' I said, just getting two words out before I had to duck another rifle shot.
'Come to the end of the ledge, quick,' he urged. 'I have a place where you won't get shot. They're only looking for you on the south ledge.'
'Thanks,' I said, momentarily forgiving his prior offensiveness in gratitude for the promise of safety, no matter how tenuous. But as I inched along the ledge, keeping my back to the wall and splaying my uplifted arms against the wall for balance, making my tits and cunt a perfect target for the sniper, something suddenly came to me.
'How did you know about the priest and the G-man both being named Marmelstein?' I blurted, just as his strong hand reached out and grabbed me by the wrist, pulling me so dizzily around the comet of the building that I squeezed my eyes closed to defend my senses and half fainted.
As my head cleared, I realized that as soon as I opened my eyes, I would be face to face with the answer to the enigma that had been surrounding me lately. Marmelstein… Marmelstein… Shark, the names peeled through my mind. Then, suddenly, the noise stopped, and in the quiet of my brain the answer materialized.
'The Marmelstein brothers are really the same person,' I blindly accused, recalling the newspaper story about the abduction of the real priest, Father Coughlin, whose place Marmelstein had obviously taken. Father Marmelstein's long, face-obscuring beard… Agent Marmelstein's ski-mask… all the things wrong with the set-up of the last few days came together in my brain. 'And that person is you… Shark! M.S. is none other than Melville Shark!'
CHAPTER TEN
Having spit out the bitter bile of the truth, I opened my eyes to its reality: the wolfish cast of Shark's cruel face, his leering lips releasing his inevitable, 'Heh, heh.'
'Did you read my column yet, Shark?' I said, trying to act blase until I thought of what to do. But in my feigned nonchalance I stumbled and grabbed for something to hold onto. Whatever it was I snagged onto was hard, yet pliant, something more like a short rail than anything else as I clutched it to keep from falling. But then I opened my eyes again and realized that I had been paying so much attention to Shark's evil face I hadn't noticed until now that he was completely naked. Suddenly I knew that I was hanging for dear life onto his hot, throbbing prick.
I instinctively looked down and saw that I had a beauty of a cock in my hands, a long, sinewy chunk of meat that swooped from a hairy pubic thatch and hard balls, and almost a foot later culminated in a bulb of fiery red at the heart-shaped head of his prick. A little dew-drop of milky semen graced the tip of his cock, drooling stickily from the puckering vertical slit in the middle, the finest details of his prick instantly crystal-clear to me despite the unfavorable weather conditions.
I tried to bluff my way through my sudden fascination with his thrillingly erect prick, but when I asked the ostensibly innocent question, 'How did you like my column?' I fully revealed my motives by nervously constricting my fingers around the shaft of his perfect cock, uncontrollably rubbing and squeezing the meaty shaft. As I pressed his brawny cock, the pressure at the end of it expanded, the angry-looking head of his prick releasing a further discharge.
'Well, frankly, I don't know how our Jewish readers will like this new approach, you know, with all that Jesus Christ stuff,' he said as I paid no attention to his reply and went down on him, not being able to wait a second longer before I tasted the delectable glob of juice at the end of his cock. The sperm was as sweet as coconut in my mouth as I lapped it down and then automatically gobbled up his whole stiff prick, munching it all the way within seconds so that it was imbedded in my face to the squashing hilt of Shark's hairy balls.
'We've got a lot of Jewish readers,' he went on as I sucked his prick with every ounce of power I had in me, wanting to turn his balls inside out. 'Jews don't like to admit they read skin magazines… but they do. Hmmmm, maybe if we could change Jesus into somebody whose image is a little more accessible and down-to-earth.'
His talk seemed babble to me, just as did the screeching blurts of the p.a. system, as I directed all my concentration toward the sweet-tasting task of eating his stiff dick alive, begging it with my throat, lips and tongue to fuck me to the hilt in the mouth. The searchlight and the sniper fire had temporarily stopped because of our moving off the south ledge, and with nothing but a lot of chatter to distract me, I found no difficulty in devoting all my energy to the big, thick cock buried in my slurping mouth. Its bulging veins throbbed pulsingly against my lips as I moved my mouth back and forth over the expanse of his cock just as though he were moving in and out inside a cunt. One instant I would have his dick in my mouth so completely that his balls pressed against my chin, and seconds later his cock would be all the way out of my mouth except for the barbed head, my teeth and tongue doing a masterly job of inspired torture on the knotty head of his prick, before I swooped down again, taking it down my throat.
'Yes,' Shark continued, his talking continuing unabated despite the brutal teasing I was giving his immensely thick prick. 'We definitely need somebody with a better media quotient than Jesus, someone with more mass appeal. Let's face it, there're a lot of people in the crucial 19-45 age bracket who spend the most bread that definitely don't dig Him. We need our own buttinsky that everybody can identify with right down here on earth, somebody a little less austere and more fallible. The human touch.'
What in the world was he talking about? I thought, as the words went in one ear and out the other, all my instincts and reactions attuned only to the succulent shaft of his prick inside my orally fucking mouth. I cupped his balls and squeezed them while I gave an extra gulp on his prick, anxious to shatter his nervous system and self- control and bring him down to my size, existing precariously on the literal edge of life with nothing but desire to consider.
My throat spasmed, one, two, three times as I realized that I was having an oral climax, the orgasm starting at the base of my esophagus and turning my mouth into a foaming cauldron almost the equal of any coming pussy. I buried my face in his tangled crotch, jamming his stiff dick even farther down my throat, groveling for those extra fractions of an inch that would just fill me with his cock that much more.
'It could be a female figure,' Shark said, not showing the slightest sign that he knew what was going on
