Shooting at the Beach

A vacation goes south when a shooter arrives at the beach

Note to the reader: This is my entry to the Summer Lovin 2019 contest, so please be kind with your stars! Even though it appears ominous at times, it has a HEA ending, at least for the characters in the story. One warning: The narrator, Amanda, is bisexual.

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It was supposed to be the ideal holiday. The whole gang went to the beach, and I had my new bikini which I felt sure would create some interest, both from the men, and also from Louise, the woman I had a crush on.

We all got to the beach, set up our parasols for protection from the brutal summer sun, laid out our blankets, and the men jockeyed for position to be close to the woman they wanted to score with. Not that anyone was going to have sex on the beach, of course, but we had rented a beach house with a hot tub to soak in, later, in the evening.

I was passive and just set myself up and was amused to see who would find a spot near me. I ended up with Mark on one side, and Louise on the other. Hmmm. I was totally looking forward to the hot tub later, but just then I wanted very much to enjoy the beach! I was wearing shorts and a T shirt, with my bikini underneath. My shorts and T shirt rapidly came off, and I relaxed under the sun in my bikini.

We settled in and Mark and Louise competed to put suntan oil on my back. They ended up sharing, and Louise ended up unfastening my bikini top to spread the oil more evenly. She ended up giving me a sensuous massage. Her touches gave me tingles. Louise is so fine!

"Now the front," Louise said. I knew what she wanted: the girl wanted to see my naked boobs. She had checked out my long nipples and big, dark areolas that one time I went braless and wore only a thin, white T shirt. That was a mistake, in retrospect; everyone who saw me parading around like that assumed I was a total slut. I'm not one, of course. Well, maybe a little bit? Let's compromise: I'm a partial slut; how's that?

It was decision time. I rolled over and kept my unfastened bikini top on top of my boobs. Louise looked disappointed, but her face transformed into a malicious but happy smile, as she removed my bikini top and tossed it aside.

"Woohoo!" Mark yelled and everyone gathered 'round to see me, the topless bimbo known as Amanda. I blushed around fourteen shades of red while everyone took in the sight of my naked boobs. Mark and Eric took cell phone pictures, and Louise started pushing down my bikini bottoms, too, but she stopped, thank goodness, when she reached the top of my slit.

Time passed, and the novelty of one of their friends going topless -- even if I had been tricked into it -- gradually wore off. Mark still stared at my boobs constantly, so I eventually rolled over again, onto my stomach. Louise kissed my back when I did. I raised my head to look over at her, and she kissed my lips. Obviously, I kissed her back. I was thrilled that she was interested.

Mark must have felt threatened or something, because he then leaned over from the other side and kissed me, too. I kissed him back, too, rolled onto my back and he kissed and slobbered over my left boob, apparently not caring about all the suntan oil covering it. Not to be outdone, Louise did the same to my right boob. I just giggled.

It was at this lovely point, when I was receiving such sensual attention from both Louise and Mark, that everything went to shit. First, there were the loud sounds. It made no sense to have fireworks at the beach at 3PM in the afternoon. None of us realized at the time that it was automatic gunfire. Some lunatic had an AR 15 and was shooting on auto mode.

We heard screaming. It was eerie: People were screaming, we'd hear the gunfire, and the screaming would stop. Moaning began, then more gunfire, and then silence. Mark was the first to recover his wits, and rushed us all off the beach.

"Leave everything -- just run!" Mark said, in a surprisingly calm voice. We were ten people, five men and five women, and we all ran from the beach towards our parked cars. I caught a glance at the shooter, and he was calmly walking along the beach, dressed for battle, shooting and killing people.

Luckily, the shooter was far up the beach from us, so we were able to get away, except for Steve. The assassin must have seen us trying to escape and aimed a volley of 45 bullets for a good long minute in our direction, and one bullet caught Steve in the leg. He managed to keep hobbling to the cars, and that probably saved his life. I guess it was what is called a "flesh wound."

Once we were safe in our cars, hightailing it away from the beach, one car -- the one with Steve in it -- went to the local ER, and the rest of us went to our rented house. Meanwhile three of us, one of them me, were calling 911.

Safe in our rented house we turned on the local news which was devoted exclusively to the disaster on the beach. Before the censors could stop them, I assume, they showed the massive number of sunbathers covered in blood, lying dead or wounded on the beach. Two hours later the police shot and killed the gunman, but just before he died, the gunman himself managed to critically wound one of the policemen.

We were all traumatized. Steve's leg was just a flesh wound, and he was all bandaged up and released to our care, as more and more victims came to the hospital via a variety of ambulances. Steve and our friends who were with him joined us at the rental house.

What do you do when your holiday is ruined by such a horrific event? Well, I don't know what one does; all I know is what we did. We watched the TV saying the same things over and over, and Eric brought out some weed, while Marcia opened the red wine. We had a good supply of red wine.

I'm not proud of it, but we all needed our sense of horror to take a vacation and be dulled by alcohol or pot. I chose alcohol. Most of us did. I'm a small woman, actually, weighing only 105 pounds when naked. I'm five feet, three inches tall, so while my weight is on the low side, it's still reasonable. Of course, sometimes I think a good portion of my weight is in my boobs. I guess a lot of us girls think that. The point is, though, that it does not take much wine for me to get drunk, and I got rip roaring drunk.

My bikini top, as well as my T shirt and shorts, were all left at the beach due to our hurried evacuation. So that evening I was wearing only my bikini bottoms, and everyone seemed to be enjoying the view of my naked boobs, especially Louise, and every single one of the men. All of us girls were giving Steve, our limping wounded hero, special attention. I also reminded the group that it was Mark who sounded the alarm and kept his wits around him, and that played a big role in saving us. Mark was my hero. All I had done was scream in terror, frozen to the spot.

Louise called us all together. I was drunk and most of us were tipsy. Louise said, "We need to reward our two heroes, Steve and Mark. I propose we give them whatever they want."

Louise's remarks were received with cheers, and cries of "Hear, hear!" Everyone was on board.

"What'll it be, Steve? What can we get for you, or do for you, our hero? And you too, Mark! Without your quick wit and amazing ability to stay calm, many of us would surely be dead or wounded, in addition to poor Steve," Louise declared.

Everybody turned and looked at the two men. All of us women were still in our bikinis. Our clothes that we had brought were still in our suitcases in the trunks of the cars, not yet unloaded. Steve spoke first.

"I want Sylvia," was all he said. Sylvia blushed. She was a shy girl, and was wearing a modest bikini that made me look stark naked in comparison. I wasn't even sure if she had ever had sex? I figured she must have, though, since -- like me -- she was in her mid to late twenties.

There was an awkward silence. When Steve said he wanted Sylvia, we all sort of knew what he meant. So too did Sylvia. She sat there, frozen in place, perhaps in shock, staring at Steve. Then slowly, she stood up, and walked, excruciatingly slowly, over to Steve. She went right to him and kissed him on the lips. She was so deliberate, it looked as if it were all is slow motion.

Everyone cheered, and Sylvia blushed. "Let's go to the hot tub," Steve said, and off they went. The hot tub was in the back yard, so once they had left, all eyes went to Mark.

"What do you want, Mark?" Louise asked. I kind of knew what he was going to say. I had been feeling the vibrations all day, and often they weren't even subtle.

"I want Amanda," he said.

"You've got me, Mark, whatever you want. I'm yours tonight," I replied. It was a very different reply than that of Sylvia, but I knew it amounted to the same thing. Just like Sylvia, my response was greeted with huge cheers.

Like Steve and Sylvia, we also went to the hot tub. Steve couldn't get his wounded and bandaged leg wet, so only Sylvia was in the hot tub, but Mark and I immediately saw that she was naked.

Sylvia, stark naked, boldly left the hot tub right in front of us. Mark and I, both, silently admired her body. The nude female body is truly a beautiful sight, and Sylvia's body was no exception.

Mark went to me and he silently pulled my bikini bottoms down and off.

"You did say, whatever I want, I get, you know," Mark said to me.

"Mark, if it hadn't been for you, I'd be dead. Besides, I really like you," I said. "You seem a bit overdressed, don't you think?"

Mark smiled at me and I, now naked and in full view of Steve and Sylvia, went over to Mark and pulled down his trunks. Mark lifted his feet, one after the other, and I took his trunks off. I knelt down so that Mark's flaccid penis was right in front of my face. I looked up at Mark, who was just standing there and smiling, and I said, "Do you want anything else?"

"I want a lot, Amanda. You can start with a blowjob if you want, but then I want a threesome with Louise," he said. "It was so hot watching the two of you flirt at the beach."

I took his soft cock in my mouth and swirled my tongue around its head and quick as a bunny it began to grow and stiffen, both. Works every time, I thought. As it turned out, Mark was a grower, and by the time Mark's cock was completely hard, it was too big to fit inside my mouth. I began to pump the base with my hand and I sucked the top half of his cock.

"Deep throat me," Mark said. "I know you can do that."

"How do you know?" I asked. I didn't think he knew anyone I had done that to. Mark just smiled.

Well, I did say whatever he wanted, so I took his entire length down my throat. Mark groaned. I was thinking about Mark wanting a threesome with Louise. It seemed like this was more like my wish fulfillment than it was Mark's!

As I was deep throating Mark and listening to his groans of approval, I heard a distinctly female moan. It was coming from where Sylvia and Steve were. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised, but I surely was. Steve was on top of Sylvia on the grass. Sylvia's legs were spread wide and Steve's body was between them as his ass rose and fell. Sylvia was going nuts. She was kissing him, wrapping her legs as much around him as she could, and moaning, calling his name, and saying 'Oh my God' a lot. Maybe this really was her first time? Was that possible?

Suddenly Marcia came running out to get us. She was half dressed and had a hickey on her right boob. "Come back inside, quick! There's another shooter!" she said, and she ran back inside. Mark had been close to squirting, but there's nothing like the threat of being shot to kill one's eros. He ran back inside, stark naked, but Steve and Sylvia were still fucking. I went to them, pulled Steve off Sylvia, and gave them the bed news.

We all went inside. Everyone was upset, practically shaking. "What's the name of this neighborhood?" Susan yelled. Susan still had both pieces of her bathing suit on, one of the few of us women to be covered where it counts.

"Seaside Heights, I think," Miguel replied.

"Shit. That's where the second shooter is thought to be," Susan said, holding back tears. The fear was evident everywhere on her face. "Is there a basement in this house?'

Mark and I went around opening all the doors and found one with a staircase going down to a very dark basement. We turned off all the lights and all went down to the basement. We hoped the second shooter, if he found the house, would assume nobody was home and move on to shoot someone else, somewhere else, unless -- as we hoped -- he first was caught by the police.

Once we were all settled in the basement, Susan turned off the lights. It was scary: the basement was pitch black. I could see absolutely nothing, even after my eyes had adjusted to the lack of light. We all just sat on the old cement floor, scared even to make a sound. We were careful to be out of sight in case someone opened the door to the basement and looked down the stairs. He'd see and hear nothing. That was our plan.

We must have sat there for an hour. It was fairly uncomfortable, and boring, but in a frightening way. Suddenly, I felt someone kissing the back of my neck. A hand went around me and cupped my left breast. "Amanda, is that you?" someone whispered.

I had to admit it was really sexy not having any idea who was kissing me and feeling me up. I mean, I knew it was one of the boys. "Yes," I whispered. "Who are you?"

My question was met with silence, and now two hands were playing with my two boobs, while a pair of lips continued to kiss the back of my neck. I found myself pulled up onto a man's lap. I still didn't know whose lap it was. "Lap dance time," the mystery man whispered, and as he whispered he played with my nipples in the most seductive way imaginable.

I was kind of in a state of shock, still terrified by having a maniac with automatic weapons on the loose. I just sat there, stunned, while my boobs were expertly fondled and my neck sensuously kissed. I was, of course, still naked.

"C'mon, Amanda. We may all be shot and killed soon. Give me a lap dance before I die, will you, sweetheart?" I was sitting on his lap with my back to his chest, and I felt his erect cock against the crack of my ass. I just sat there, frozen with indecision.

Suddenly, I realized there were five men there, all of them my friends, and all of them hot. Could I imagine a situation where I'd give any of them a naked lap dance? Well, to be honest, yes; yes, I could. I loved them all. I began to move, really just to undulate a bit. I heard the man behind me exhale. He had been holding his breath, waiting for my decision.

I was amazingly turned on by the prospect of giving a naked lap dance to one of my five friends and having no idea at all which guy he was! And I was doing this right amidst all of my friends, too, while they remained blissfully ignorant, as long as we stayed silent. I moved around, rubbing my backside against his hard cock, while he pleasured my boobs with his hands and showered my neck and back with kisses.

I suppose it was inevitable, but as the two of us got more and more aroused, I suddenly felt his two hands lifting me slightly. Then my anonymous man pulled me closer to him and his cock slipped inside my slick, wet, welcoming pussy. God, it felt good to have such a wonderful cock inside me! It distracted my drunken self from the terror of another shooter hunting for victims right there in Seaside Heights.

I began to bounce and it was all I could do to stay silent. I knew how to fuck quietly; when I was in high school and entertaining a guy in my room I knew if I had moaned my mother or father would have burst into my room and there would have been hell to pay. There were other times, too, I had needed to be silent, like when I was fucking my roommate's boyfriend while she slept peacefully in the other bed. This was another time to be silent; indeed, the stakes were higher, now. We're talking life and death.

We were moving right along. Whoever my lover was, he was damn good at fucking a girl! I could feel a climax building, and I was hoping my mystery lover could hold on and keep going a little longer. God, it felt divine.

Suddenly, I felt a collective intake of breath. We all heard it. Heavy footsteps right above us! Oh my goodness, the shooter was in the house! He seemed to be walking through it systematically. We could hear doors open and close. He was looking for new victims. He was going to find the stairs to the basement. Would he come down here and kill us all??

I knew we were all thinking that, and my mystery lover froze, with his cock deep inside me. He clutched my boobs hard.

"Police! Hands in the air!" we heard being shouted right above us. Then we heard the blast of guns. Then silence. It was a long, deafening, nerve shattering silence.

"Are you okay, Tony?" a concerned voice said.

"Yeah, the Kevlar saved me, although the impact may have broken a rib. Is the guy dead?" a voice said.

"Yeah. He's dead. Luckily, it appears this house is empty. Strange, with all those cars outside, you know?"

"Maybe they're all hiding. Let's give the all clear," one of the cops upstairs said.

We all just stayed still until we heard them leave. Mystery guy resumed fucking me, and Susan went over and turned on the lights.

"I'm going upstairs to see on the TV if the all clear is really the case. I can't stand it down here any longer... oh my God, Amanda, are you and Miguel...?"

I just giggled nervously and then seconds later Miguel (apparently, he was my mystery man) fucked me frantically and we both climaxed. It was lovely. Susan giggled and went upstairs. I disengaged from Miguel, we kissed, and then we both went upstairs to watch the TV. We avoided the bloody mess where the shooter fired his last ever shot. Luckily, the TV was in a different room.

We all sat there mesmerized by the television newscasters, too traumatized even to talk. We were arrayed in various states of dress, or perhaps I should say, undress. I was still in some sort of shock, and remained naked, trying to be discrete about my sloppy pussy. Boy, Miguel sure donated a lot of cum!

After a few hours, the men started to get hungry. All restaurants were shut down due to the evacuation of the area, except of course for Domino's. Domino's pizza it was. Susan was still clothed in her bikini, so she answered the delivery.

"Hey, isn't this where the second shooter...?" the delivery boy asked, as he looked around Susan and saw me sitting, naked, still staring at the television. Obviously, it was, since outside there were television crews and bright yellow crime tape everywhere.

It turned out the shooter had been going house to house, killing people. Their 911 calls showed a pattern, and the cops correctly predicted his path, which was probably the only reason all of us were still alive!

I think we went through our entire week's worth of booze that night. Around 3AM my fatigue had reached its limit. I staggered to my assigned room, that I conveniently share with Louise. Louise followed me inside, but so did Mark.

"Hey, Amanda? Remember me, your hero, who gets whatever he wants? Still want me even after Miguel?" I figured Mark was referring to the gigantic cock Miguel used to anonymously fuck me in the basement.

I looked at Mark. I looked at Louise. They looked at me. "I'm so drunk, I'm so tired," I said, and I saw both of their faces fall. "Look guys, I'm already naked. Whatever you want, I'm yours."

As it turned out, their wants were fairly simple and straightforward. Nevertheless, never had sex been more meaningful. Fucking the two people I lusted for, after narrowly escaping death, was like nothing else imaginable. On the Richter scale or erotic experiences, it was ... well, it was off the charts!