Zulu
Copyright© 2026 by A Bad Attitude
Chapter 4
Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 4 - A former Marine deals with life after losing part of his leg in an accident. No AI involved in writing this story. I hope I got the codes right.
Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Mult Consensual Lesbian Fiction Black Male Black Female Amputee Big Breasts
“Terry, I don’t know if you remember me or not. I’m...” that’s all I got out when she said, “You’re Zulu O’Shea. Of course I remember you.” Then out of the kitchen runs Mona, one of my high school girl friends. Now Terry is short about 5’4” tall maybe 110 lbs. and b-cup breasts. (Ok, I noticed how could I not? She had on short gym shorts and a “wife-beater” man’s undershirt cut off just under those little titties.) Mona on the other hand is tall, 5’10” about 130lbs. and most of it is titties, 38dd, if I remember correctly. I am remembering her big, silver dollar sized auroras and those nice long, meaty nipples. She is crossing the living room with her arms raised and those titties bouncing, reminding me of the girls on the tv show Baywatch. I open my arms to receive her and hug her when ... Bang! She slapped me so hard that my cowboy hat went flying.
“I’ve waited 10 years to do that.” Then she grabs my head and kisses me on the mouth using her tongue to explore my dental work.
“I’ve also waited 10 years to do that,” she says as she breaks the kiss.
“What was that all about?” I ask as I pick up my hat.
“You broke my heart when you left for the Citadel. We were an item and you never called or even said goodbye. No letters, nothing.”
“Mona we weren’t going steady and I didn’t think we were an item. We just dated some.”
“Maybe that’s the way you thought about it but not me. Hell, Zulu, I gave you my cherry and we fucked a lot. Didn’t that mean anything to you?”
“Mona, I don’t remember us ever talking about being serious or going steady or anything like that.”
“I hate to interrupt old home week here but why are you here at 10 in the evening?”
“It’s Mikey. I broke up a fight behind the City Café. Two bikers beat the hell out of him and he is in the hospital. He asked me to come tell you.”
“I’ll get some clothes on and go there,” said Terry.
“Not tonight, he is in a room resting. He has 3 broken ribs, a couple of black eyes and maybe a concussion. They are going to keep him overnight for observation and if everything is fine, he can come home tomorrow.”
“Would you like a frappe? That’s what we were making when you came in” asked Mona.
I replied, “What the hell is a frappe?”
“You know, coffee, milk and ice cream. We use de-caf this late at night.”
“Can I get just a cup of the coffee, no cream, no sugar and no ice cream?”
We walked into the kitchen and sat at the table.
“You broke up a fight between Mikey and two bikers? You don’t have a scratch on you and your knuckles are not scraped. So how did you do it?” asked Mona?
“I had help, Leona was with me.”
“Who is Leona?”
With that I pulled back my farm coat and showed them my .45 automatic pistol.
“Did you shoot anybody?” asked Mona.
“Didn’t have to, just reminded them that they brought a knife to a gunfight and that ended everything. The sheriff showed up and took them to jail. Everything ended peacefully, thank god.”
“So you named your pistol Leona, what is that, a Marine thing? And why Leona?” asked Terry.
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