Chapter 8

It was a wonderful Saturday night just after bedtime when the Molotov cocktail of burning gasoline shattered against Garry's living room window. What saved our butts from being burned to extra crispy bacon was that all of the windows in the house had all been replaced from cheap contractor glass frames to ultra energy saving double-paned transparent vinyl, or something similar by the previous owner. In any case, the glass didn't break and the home made fuel bomb exploded outside the window upon the exterior brickwork and quickly consigned the outside hedge to a burning bush that even Moses would be proud to speak to.

It had been a usual Saturday night for us. Still happy from our successful week, we'd enjoyed a nice Tex-Mex dinner out then we watched a new movie on DVD. Then afterwards for desert Kathy had give us a long and steamy pole dance, followed by a rather casual but pleasant threesome in our bed. Garry had just wandered back to his own bed for some sleep and I had just rolled over and gotten comfortable myself when I thought I heard the first noises outside on the street. For security, all of the front of the house windows were securely closed but the windows at the back of the house behind Garry's tall wooden security fence were all opened to enjoy the very late spring fresh breezes.

Already a little bit restless, I bolted up out of bed immediately when I could clearly hear the sounds of cars loudly driving into our cul-de-sac, a rather unusual event. Kathy reacted almost as fast as I did, and while I was grabbing my .45 from the night stand, she had seized up her FN-FAL assault rifle from its resting place next to her dresser and she then tossed it outside of our wide open bedroom window onto the grass of the back yard. Then she worked her nude body out the opening as well. The weather had been perfect and while the glass replacement windows could be securely sealed, they could also easily swivel outwards, to allow fresh air when wanted. Tonight the temperature and humidity had been perfect, a marvelous late spring night with the breeze coming from an ideal position. I suppose it had been fortunate that the gang hadn't instead crept around the house and started chucking their burning gas bombs inside here, since I was pretty sure that Garry's windows in the main bedroom were open too. They usually were at night.

Outside and now in the dark, my determined girlfriend quickly disappeared into the gloom, undoubtedly heading for the gate that separated the front from the back yard, what there was of it. With my gun now in hand, I raced for the front door to try and get there first, to draw their fire and attention away from her. Well, she was stark ass naked. For that matter, so was I. There wasn't time to grab a robe or even shorts.

I reached the front door at about the same time as Garry, who was toting his service shotgun and before I could reach the doorknob, I could hear my buddy working the pump.

"Move!" He shouted. And I didn't need to be told twice. I dived to my right side flat to the carpet and a millisecond later the first shotgun round blew a cantaloupe sized hole straight through the center of the plywood door ... and also the thug standing in front of it who had been frantically trying to work a crowbar to pry open the deadbolt lock from the wooden doorframe. He staggered away, but not before Garry ripped open the remnants of the door and took a concealed firing position to the left, leaving me free to move up and cover the right hand side of the doorway.

It took us only a second to evaluate the situation and we nearly fired in unison. He pumped and fired another round dead center into the wounded gangster's back leaving a gaping wound that I swear I could have seen daylight through, while I in turn put a tight grouping of two rounds into the center chest mass of another dark hoodie clad thug who was trying to run towards the house and light another bottle full of gasoline at the same time. Getting shot didn't improve his coordination any.

The mortally wounded gang member fell flat back upon his ass and dropped his Molotov right next to his feet on the roadway, where the burning splash of fuel soon engulfed his legs in brilliant flame. Overkill probably, but the idiot was too much in shock to realize that he was already probably dead from the big fat .45 rounds that had ripped through his chest.

I'll say this much for his buddies, they reevaluated the situation pretty rapidly too and they dropped whatever nefarious plans they might have been considering to quickly grab their two mortally wounded buddies so that they could haul ass out of there, and for my part, as long as I couldn't see any guns pointed in my general direction, I was willing to permit their retreat, but for slightly more selfish reasons. As long as these ass-clowns hauled away their own dead, the three of us innocent victims would have a whole lot less explaining to do, and hopefully miss the fun of a Grand Jury investigation of our shooting in self defense. This is Texas, where Castle Doctrine allows a homeowner nearly infinite rights in defense of your life and property, and it's our God given right to rehabilitate intruders, preferably lethally so that no conflicting story can be possibly given to any responding law enforcement officers. Several friendly cops other than Garry have reminded me of this fact over the years. Do the job right the first time and save the taxpayers' money and the poor jury a few boring hours of their life!

Kathy chose this time to make her belated appearance (she'd had trouble with the fence gate hook and latch in the dark) and now came rushing out onto the middle of the driveway in her full glorious naked splendor like a Valkyrie descending upon a battlefield. She ripped off a pair of nicely controlled three round bursts that nailed another pair of would-be killers, causing them in turn to need further assistance from their remaining buddies to get hauled away into one of their two getaway cars.

The nearest of the two drivers decided to take a few wild potshots at us with his 9mm handgun and pure 'home-boy' gangsta fashion, twisting his wrist sideways to fire the weapon at a flat lateral angle. He hit the brickwork and punched a few holes through the front windows, but nothing struck within five yards of any of us. Kathy in return gave the entire drivers side of his car a long controlled six or seven round fully automatic burst that nicely chewed up the door, and very likely the driver as well. She then for good measure hosed down the other getaway car with the rest of whatever what was left in her clip until the magazine went dry and the vehicle drove away out of sight.

The old vintage Belgian NATO assault rifle might be heavier than shit to tote around, but sometimes that extra heavy wood around the barrel and stock is pretty nice for keeping your weapon under control so that you could aim it and not have it aim you, spraying bullets wildly.

Just so that I wouldn't feel left out, I started to empty my .45 at the remaining vehicle as it now began to speed off also. I think I hit the trunk a few times and spider webbed the safety glass of the rear window at least twice. In any case, I didn't want to pack up for the night with any unexpended rounds left in my magazine either. With my last three shots I got over-ambitious and tried for the tires. Garry told me later that this sort of stunt was for idiots who have watched too many bad cop movies. It almost never works in real life (even if the bullet does hit the tires) and it presents a serious ricochet danger to anyone else downrange. I took the scolding like a man. Yeah, in retrospect I had been pretty dumb!

Not to be left out of the gunfight, old lady Arlene fired off a few shotgun rounds as well from her own front lawn just as the pair of vehicles roared past her house. I think she hit each car too, or at least something caused all of the passenger side window glass both front and back to shatter inwards just before they turned onto the main county road.

"Nice grouping with that last burst of shoots!" Garry commented, giving Kathy a firm pat on her naked ass as we stood out at the end of the driveway and surveyed the pools of blood and burning gasoline.

"Really, I think every single one was a hit," I agreed, "on the car's body at least anyway. I'd be surprised if either car even makes it as far as I-35 before conking out mechanically. I don't think the passengers are in much, if any, better shape either, but let's get some clothes on before the Village and the County Mounties show up to interrogate us." Indeed, nearly every house in our subdivision had at least one face already looking out their front door or their living room window and all of our naked asses (and front bits) were now on very public display.

I stopped for a few minutes to commune with the burning bush which was slowly burning itself out, but the Almighty had nothing in particular to impart to me. The remaining fire was of no particular danger to the house and I could safely put out the smoldering remains of the gasoline fire once I'd pulled some shorts on. Already I could hear sirens approaching in the distance.

We changed into some clothes and brewed a big pot of coffee because we knew that it was going to be a very long night! Teresa and Courtney dashed over to check on us first, even before the Village Police patrol car arrived and answering the door in just gym shorts with a t-shirt still in my hand I gave the lustful but curious ladies a good look at my mostly flat stomach and toned pectorals before I handed the pair a twenty dollar bill and asked them politely if they'd drive down the street to the local open around the clock donut shop to get us a few assorted boxes of anything they had available. The cops were certain to be hungry, and now so was I.

As the various factions of local law enforcement all began to arrive, we began to make our statements. We kept our stories simple, but factual. We were all about asleep in bed when the first Molotov struck the house and we heard the sounds of intruders at the front door trying to break in. There were several big blood trails leading to where the cars had been parked during the attempt at the home invasion, suggesting that at least four gang members had lost enough blood right here on our street to be considered life threatening. The big powerful 7.62 NATO bullets from Kathy's FAL had also likely ripped through the cheap plastic and thin metal of both cars like flimsy tin foil. We'd counted about eight gang members conducting this attack and we'd disabled at least half of them, a minimum of two them permanently, but we didn't bother to gloat over that.

We admitted firing in direct self-defense and in very real danger of our lives, and that we'd struck at least four of our attackers, but all of them had gotten away. The local and county cops all nodded their head a lot and drank up our coffee and devoured down the donuts as if it were going out of style, but Kathy kept the brew flowing.

The rest of our neighbors began to appear and volunteered to give statements that entirely corroborated our particular version of the night's events and most of them stayed to give us moral support and help drink down the endless supply of coffee and chew down the last of the three boxes of donuts. I think both Mrs. Shaw and her daughter were a bit surprised to find a stripper pole right in middle of Garry's living room, but that didn't stop either of them from taking a few token swings upon it (alas clothed). Teresa even pointedly asking Kathy if she was willing to offer private lessons, for both her and her daughter! Our local mousey but sexy widow couldn't take her eyes off of it either and also very innocently and delicately asked what the device was intended for. I don't think Kathy frightened her too terribly much with the answer. Nor did she enquire (even politely) why none of us had been wearing any clothing outside earlier, while she had been watching the events through her front window.

The looks that she was carefully giving us, sitting quietly at the dining room table suggested that she was at least somewhat aware that we had a rather interesting and alternative lifestyle. The bug of curiosity had been planted, of that I was certain from the curious looks that she was giving Kathy. Someday soon, if not quite right away, I was pretty sure that the two women were going to meet for a casual coffee or tea, but that sex was soon going to dominate the conversation. I was already willing to bet that our quiet but cute single mother was already itching to find a polite way of asking for pole dancing lessons herself!

Eventually about sunrise all of our many friends and acquaintances in law enforcement decided to pack up their notebooks and leave us to our peace once more. Undoubtedly no charges of any sort would be filed. They all checked Kathy's class 3 permit and collectively had a loud belly laugh. "Good girl!" seems to have been their private and very personal review of her actions of the past evening and no one we talked to even hinted otherwise. 'Justifiable self-defense' was the unanimous verdict.

Already the two getaway cars had been found abandoned (and thoroughly shot up) at one of the strip malls next to I-35. A great deal of pooled blood was found in both vehicles but no bodies were left behind. We found out later that an SUV was reported carjacked nearby by two men, a Hispanic male with a description that matched Lupe's and another white male, who may have been wounded. To further complicate the story, a gas station video security camera in Columbus early that morning recorded a violent argument between two men in an SUV with plates matching the stolen vehicle report, culminating with the driver, who again might have been Lupe, shooting and killing his white male partner, then speeding off alone. The stolen SUV was later recovered in the parking out of a large southeast Houston shopping mall.

There seemed to be enough of a time delay between the attack on Garry's house and the shooting in Columbus, on the way back to Houston, to suggest that the pair of remaining gangsters had stopped off somewhere in route to dispose of their dead. In any case, none of the bodies were ever found that I'm aware of. I doubted that we'd killed all six of them, so the suspicion was that the two gang leaders had finished off their own seriously wounded, to keep them from talking, and then Lupe had silenced the last set of loose lips afterwards when the other gang leader had apparently disagreed with his plans. Very cold blooded and hardcore!

The Texas Rangers soon took over handling the case and a few days later they showed me us a photo of the dead white male, who in my opinion was the third gang leader that we'd first seen at the real estate auction with Darren Hall and Lupe Hernandez. This suggested that at least part of the gang triad had now fallen apart and that with the disaster of their attack upon us, at least one group now apparently had enough of the treasure hunt. Lupe certainly wasn't going to call it quits though. Darren had been spotted that same evening still in Houston, so apparently he'd not come along for the raid, letting his partner Lupe handle the attack. Now with active state warrants on their heads, both of the remaining gang bosses went into hiding, but none of us was optimistic enough to believe that we'd won and that they'd call it quits.

Since we were all dead tired, we decided to just go back to bed and sleep in and just work from home later today, if possible. The telephone had other ideas and kept ringing all morning with neighbors asking us (or rather mostly Kathy) to come over for a snack and a friendly chat, to compare gossip about the night's events and eventually she gave up and tossed on some clothes to go and play at being sociable. No one tried to jump her delicious curvaceous bones, but she did confirm later that everyone wanted to know about our sex lives... and all of the women wanted a go on her dance pole, but preferably without a male audience ogling (at least for now).

She'd kept the story simple that we were in a committed but flexible relationship and that Garry was an old friend with some benefits. The Thomas's had made her outright blatant offer asking us to swing with them some night, but Kathy crushed their particular hopes by informing them firmly and politely that I wasn't flexible in that sort of way. Sorry, we just weren't attracted to them in any way at all. They took the polite but firm 'no' tolerably well, but not before reminding her that our friend Jason was a regular and satisfied visitor. Sorry, too much information!

This fresh round-robin with the neighbors had another useful point to offer. Already I was thinking that some sort of remote operated security fence might be nice to have across the entrance to our cul-de-sac. Naturally, this would violate HOA rules, but I didn't much care. I was even willing to front most of the costs myself, if everyone else was willing. Kathy brought up the subject casually, and no one seemed to object ... especially if someone else would be paying the bill.

Quietly, things began to get back to normal on our street and every day some minor little bit of progress was occurring with our house. Enough so that the idea of getting the major utility work reconnected back to our demarcation line seemed like a good idea once more. I figured after another few weeks of progress that Kathy would have her gourmet kitchen, and all of the cabinets, marble countertops, fixtures and appliances were already on order. Contractor and sub-subcontractor trucks now filled our driveway daily as the new electrical, gas, water and sewage lines began to be installed.

True to his word, Jason had kept our resident spy Gabe, so apparently the kid hadn't been directly involved with the home invasion. The young gang member was somewhat subdued now, Jason reported, but still working hard and showing a genuine interest in learning construction, enough so that the carrot of a full-time permanent job with Jason's contracting business was on offer. We debated breaking our secrecy and taking the kid aside to squeeze him about what the hell was going on with his gang boss Lupe, but we decided against it. HPD and the Texas Rangers had warrants already out on him and they didn't need us playing junior detectives.

On the other hand, my contractor friend had entirely given up trying to figure out how the remnants of the old solar electric and water heating system worked, and was ready to call in another professional, assuming I was willing to pay the expense, albeit heavily discounted by calling in another of our old teammates.

"You're kidding me! Lumpy Cartwright runs a green energy company down in San Antonio?" Larry (or Lumpy) had been an offensive lineman on both our high school and college football teams. The three of us had all been recruited together, the same year, and other than Garry, Lumpy was probably my next closest friend but I hadn't seen him in about three years, since his marriage. Garry and I had been groomsmen, but he'd sort of fallen off the map since then. Apparently he'd married into fairly serious money and he'd started a solar and wind powered energy business. Jason had kept in better contact with him and reported that our old buddy was doing well, but working hard about eighty hours a week to make the business a success.

"He is doing pretty well!" Jason admitted, "He got a big fat interest-free loan from his in-laws and bought out his next biggest competitor, doubling the value of the company in each of the last three years. He mostly sells residential alternative energy systems but some low end commercial stuff as well, even up to 100kw wind farm units. I've already cried 'uncle' and called him in to help, and he'll be up here tomorrow to figure it all out for us. Or so I hope, otherwise I'll have to rip all of that out too, and that would be a real waste."

That was my attitude too. Larry was an old friend and I decided to give him a phone call as well to welcome him personally to our grand restoration project from hell. We enjoyed a nice hour long conversation where we caught up on recent events, but his appearance the next morning did come as something of a shock.

"Ok, so I've lost some weight!" Lumpy laughingly explained as he gave me a friendly hug. "I didn't need the weight or the serious muscles to toss around defensive linemen like ragdolls anymore, and the first thing that my lovely bride did was put me on a serious diet. I can't crush people like bugs anymore, but my darling gal makes sure that there are other advantages!" He was still about six foot-four in size, but his girth was downright frighteningly trim. He was at least a hundred pounds thinner, and if he had a gram of fat on him, I couldn't find where it was hiding. Everything that was left was raw lean muscle.

"I bet you could beat my time in the forty yard dash now! I'm getting in better shape myself right now but you're just disturbingly over-healthy. I'll order in burgers for lunch ... nice and greasy ones too!"

We ate those burgers, and he finished off three of them himself, but I was sure that none of it would return to his formerly massive waistline or barrel chest. And here I was thinking that I was still the stud of our friends! A few hundred more hours using our garage gym equipment would help ... but probably not that much. The Lump had always been a heroic specimen of manhood, and for more reasons than just his massive muscular shoulders and rippling muscles. If there had been an award for the largest and thickest slab of male love muscle displayed in our athletic locker room, then Lumpy would have won hands down. It was disturbingly massive even in those relatively youthful days, hence his nickname, and from the slight swelling of his jeans that evening after I'd introduced him to Kathy, I noted that none of that mass had been lost in the diet process either! Kathy agreed.

"Jesus!" She whispered to me in private as we were getting ready to all drive off to take Lumpy out to dinner at our local Tex-Mex place. "Is he hung like that for real? It comes down the length of his jeans nearly to his knee! Tell me you didn't let him share your old girlfriends too? He'd destroy them!"

"Surprisingly he didn't, but then again we'd never let him go first either, and stretch them out too much for the rest of us afterwards." I laughed. "Now be good and try and keep your eyes off of his crotch, and stop obscenely licking your lips too! Jason has probably already warned him that you're a woman of flexible morals, but he's happy married and let's keep it that way!"

"Ok, I'll be good and not let Trixie start anything, but I can feel her getting restless. Besides, he hasn't taken his eyes off of my tits since I got home and changed. Should I go back in and put on a bra?"

"Let the nipples keep poking. It is a very nice view and he can just suffer like the rest of us!" And so we did. Kathy was at her best and most charming self and rather enjoyed the experience of having three rather beefy and hunky men all paying her attention ... plus Jason. Several other ladies in the restaurant actually started to become jealous that my lady-love was enjoying and keeping to herself all of the grade-A prime beef on display. Garry was getting into better shape too, I had to admit. Only Jason hadn't gotten with the recent fitness program and was even actually proud of his growing paunch, if not his balding scalp. Our old college team has been accounted in the history books as being mostly a failure, with only one winning season during our four years together, but we were all nearly in as good shape today as we'd been a decade ago, and that was enough to make us proud. We'd have played flag football on the front lawn together this afternoon, except that Garry's was too small and rocky to be suitable. We sighed upon this sad fate more than once during dinner.

Lumpy had decided to spend the night and probably a few extra days with us as well, as his assigned task, the troubleshooting of the existing solar system confused and yet intrigued him, and he was determined to figure it out. His pride was now at stake! He'd offered to stay at a local motel, but Kathy and I offered to let him use Garry's guest bedroom and we'd camp out for the night at our house. He tentatively accepted, but then all of our sleeping plans became badly discombobulated the moment Kathy innocently offered our assembled reunion of friends a relatively tame pole dance. Or at least the first one was relatively docile by her standards.

Jason had already gone home and the three of us guys were lounging about on Garry's large sofa sipping beers and telling old war stories of feminine conquests when Lumpy at length casually enquired why there was a stripper pole in the middle of the living room. I had to admit that everyone asks this question, and in this case Kathy was more than willing to give a demonstration of her aerobic exercise routine. Mercifully, she did start off dressed ... more or less. The tiny spandex boyshorts she usually wore to the gym were tight, beyond form-fitting, revealing not only the complete shape of her ass, but also displayed a rather prominent camel-toe effect at her front crotch area. The thin stretchy fabric left no mystery at all to the exact shape of her vaginal mound and lips. The tight sports bra also tended to show off her nipples and even her areolas, once she'd sweated enough, and with the complexity of her routines this didn't take long.

Her audience was appreciative, and before long there were three rather erect but restrained cocks fighting for release from our jeans. Normally, Garry and I would have pulled ours off by now, to give our members some gentle stroking in appreciation of the show, and in anticipation of the fun to follow, but tonight we were both determined to behave. Lumpy was married, and alleged very happily so.

Even the monster Lump cock was demanding release when Kathy started her next routine and while giving a Trixie-like giggle shucked out of her sweat drenched top, releasing her bare breasts for her next performance, which was somewhat slower and nastier. Still we were all determined to remain gentlemen ... until her tight skimpy shorts were the next to slide off of her sweaty taunt body and now entirely naked she giggled and asked her audience to now strip off for her.

"Whip it out boys! Let's see if you're really enjoying the show or if you're just being polite!" Garry and Lumpy looked over at me and I gave them a shrug and shucked my jeans down, releasing my formerly restrained prick. Their jeans joined mine on the floor a few moments later, presenting a rather rampant display of masculine appreciation.

"Guys, I think I need to make a quick phone call home!" Lumpy laughed, as he released his monstrously sized member from its tight prison and it arose upwards to near its maximum potential. His penis, engorged was double the size of either Garry's or mine, and way thicker. Even Kathy had a momentary interruption of her routine as she stopped in place, hung upside down with her bare cunt spread as wide as it would go displayed at us, so that she could gawk at it with unrestrained lust.

If I had any hopes of stopping what I was certain would follow, I needed to say and do something now, but I just let out a loud exhale of slight but growing frustration.

"Ella? This is Lump. Things are fine up here in Austin and I know I've already told you that I'm staying for another night or two to look over the job for Kurt, but hon' I think I'm going to need a favor. I'd like to cash in my 'Get out of Deep Shit' card. Yes ... that one! I haven't used it in three years, but I think tonight I'm going to need it. My old friend Kurt has a rather friendly sort of girlfriend ... yep, just exactly like that. Ok then? I love you honey, and I'll call you later!" The grin on his face confirmed that the Lump had been freed for action.

"Your wife just gave you the OK to have an affair?" Garry blurted in amazement.

"She did. In fact she's been owing me one for awhile. She had an affair on me early in our marriage and we worked it out. She can have a fuck on the side if she tells me about it first and gets permission, and I can do the same. Sometimes we do threesomes and even a swap or two with another couple. It's just sex and we're being honest about it with each other in our relationship. I see this doesn't shock you much."

"Nope," I laughed, "I think Kathy and I have a similar sort of relationship but it's slightly more complicated. There are some real personal issues that still need to be worked out, but sometimes I'm willing to share ... especially when she's in a giggly mood, like now!"

Yep, Trixie was coming out to play and by the time the pole dance was over, and the more personal and erotic lap dances began, the slut was in heaven rubbing and stoking our three erect cocks, rubbing her hair, cunt, tits and ass into our faces and crotches, and at last falling to her knees she begin sucking the Lump's massive member while her hands stroked Garry's and my pricks in unison.

Even Trixie the Slut couldn't deep throat all of the Lump's enormous prick, which had to be a good fourteen inches long by the time she'd licked and sucked it into its maximum.