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Subject: {ASSM} From TxM6  Henry Whitman Writes About 1969  MF 
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 From TxM6 Taxi Murders Sextet Hyperfiction Novel
http://www.taximurders.com/lcfallon

TxM6 is entirely a work of fiction for adults only.
Copyright (c) 2000 Sean Farragher

0926xTexas1969
Journal of Henry Ezra Whitman
WEATHER REPORTS: Diane Bianchi and kids

Today, April 21, 1969, will be cloudy and warm, high in the 
low 60's, much cooler at the coast. Tonight, winds out of the 
north, then clearing and colder. Lows will range in the 
middle 30's. Tomorrow, we could be frozen, you think.

HEW Recollection, from August 1969. 

Laurie Fallon had been missing a month when Henry wrote down 
this recollection.

"My Laurie is lost but I crave more insanity...Picked a 
cowboy up at Kennedy, dropped him at the Colony, dropped him 
at the ferry, dropped him off the edge of the Palisades, 
killed 'em off, and started to rest, dear rest..."

Diane, Sonia and Juliet Bianchi

In 1969, I met Diane at an Austin, Texas massage parlor bar, 
El Rancho Message. I was back from Nam a year and I needed 
some rough sex from a girl with a smooth hand.

When I walked into trailer, four women sat in chairs around 
the main room set up as a make shift business office lobby. A 
very sterile room. I expected the booths behind the barrier 
were worse.

One of the women arranged for my inspection was very young. 
Maybe 16. Probably lied or forged her certificate. Didn't 
matter. I didn't choose her, but the oldest a woman in her 
30s. She looked like she could rub the light off the stars 
and I needed that kind of diversion.

One thing leads to another. She rubbed my back, ass, and legs 
and proceeded to give me a local (hand job) asking if I 
wanted to pay twenty more for a blowjob. Plus tip she added 
laughing.

She said her name, "Sweet sucker," did not use her real name, 
was a play on something, but not words.

I also quickly learned she was a poet, when I told her I was 
in town for a Jr. College teaching job. "Sweets," as I called 
her at first, also claimed she was a poet. She actually was 
good and got better as I learned more about her. She said she 
identified with Rich, Chodor, Wakowski, Sexton and Plath.

She got very excited when I invited her to the reading I was 
scheduled to do at the student center. Told her she should 
sit in front and I would look at her tits. She laughed and 
you can come home with me, but do not tell anyone here, she 
said, or I will lose my capacity to give head for breads.

I left. I read. I introduced her to the intellects as a local 
poet. She told me later that three of the professors there 
had been out to the trailer for sex

Later, my first time in her bed, that night after the reading 
I playfully slapped her ass, and when she begged to be hit 
harder, and harder, finally covered in sweat, resisting, I 
did what she ordered, thinking she was kidding. She wasn't. I 
beat her but did not like it. I came and she came in a river 
telling me she could only come when she felt pain.

"No real harm," she said. "I know what I am doing."

When we stopped fucking and spanking (and stopping was not by 
mutual choice), she kissed like a flower opening her mouth, 
expressing the eager pleasure she felt in the tip of her 
tongue or the edges of her ravenous teeth. Then she asked if 
she could hit back, and I laughed. She warned, "don't think 
because I am soft fluff, and pussy, I can't hit."

That next morning when I woke up groggy as always she had 
tied up my ass. My legs, hands cuffed to her bed, and she 
casually said, do not worry, my daughter, Sonia, you have not 
met her, will bring around some food and water later. Do not 
want you kicking the bucket now, she said. As I was gagged, I 
could not scream, I did not need to fake panic. It reminded 
me from the prison camp in the Nam that we liberated. When we 
got inside the prisoners were dead, murdered with cyanide 
pills stuffed down their throats.

As I recalled the slope fucks kicking the dead grunt's 
bodies, Diane snuck out. I was tied and gagged and I knew I 
was trapped in some fuckin' nightmare. My dick had done it I 
laughed. No, I had done it to my dick, I corrected for 
myself. I was pissed, but no matter how hard I struggled, I 
could not get my lands loose. There's gotta' be a way, and 
then I felt little hands on my legs, touching my prick, 
fucking with it, trying to make it hard. Her hands were 
small; at least I hope it was a woman. I had no defense. She 
fed me warm soda and crackers with peanut butter. Said she 
would share my lunch holding my cock the whole time.

Hour or three later, Diane returned from the store, as she 
put it, carrying groceries. "I didn't expect to take so 
long," and then letting me up, forcing me down, letting me 
sit up, and then removing her blouse and bra, she fed me milk 
from her tits.

Holding a fifteen-month-old child, she said. This is my 
Maria. Mama watches her. I nurse her when I can, and I milk 
myself. Mama has milk too and she feeds her. That way I can 
work, as I sucked the milk I was thirsty and remembered 
Laurel from Nam, the Gook slope I actually loved but who died 
to keep me alive. Out of character for us all, I thought, as 
Diane fed me.

"I really didn't go anywhere," she confessed. Just the store, 
I hope you did not panic. Do not mind Sonia, looking at the 
child who still held my cock, "it's her teddy-bear," and 
Diane laughed.

"When I was released, at first I wanted to hit Diane for the 
embarrassment, but when I started to strike her, I realized I 
would have broken a long rule. Never hit a woman in anger. I 
struck the pillow against the bed, and she asked why. "I want 
you to beat me."

Handing me the strap, do it. Please. I did. Hit her ten times 
with the belt along her thighs and back and for the last two, 
when she opened her legs, I struck her in the cunt.

After she came, I held her trembling, helping her caress the 
welts, when suddenly, her daughter, Sonia, six I guessed 
walked into the room having given up my cock hours ago, when 
her mother came home, Sonia casually sat down in a chair, and 
smiled, turning on the TV.

It's the only one," Diane said, by way of an apology, as I 
was deep inside her mouth with my cock, I did not really 
appreciate the commentary and the company of a child. I 
assumed by her reaction that Sonia did not really notice 
anything (just another day). I was, however, a bit pulled 
back, but I came, quickly. Diane had asked me to come against 
her hands and breast, "watching my prick shoot like a six 
gun," she said.

Later, after Sonia shut the TV off, Sonia climbed up in the 
bed, hugged her mother, patting her breast, asking her 
permission, and the child drew out milk, and teasing, then 
pulling my head, giggling, saying, "you too."

I joined them, and the child touched my face while Diane 
fondled my mouth, and "I was hungry," I said. I didn't lie, 
Sonia smiled at me, when she fell asleep I carried her to her 
bed, and when I kissed her on the cheek she said more. I 
smiled, leaving her there, returning to her mother, but I had 
a hard on and it frightened me.

Diane looking at the wet spots on the pillows said, "I know. 
I always got some flow (use that handy cow pump), right 
honey, now that prick's gone." You do not know how I hated 
that old boy friend.

I said, "how could any man be uncomfortable in paradise." I 
realized as soon as I said it, how silly that sounded, and 
what it indicated about me.

"I stopped having kids for five years," Diane said, "but, 
started again, after I threw the cowboy out, or the cops got 
him, don't worry, he's in jail, now, for robbing a gas 
station. I think, he was miserable."

"What did he do," I asked the ordinary question.

"Don't you want to know who I fucked to create the kids?"

I answered easily. "You hate being lonely."

"Isn't Sonia sexy," Diane asked?

She really wondered why I paused when Sonia came into the 
room while she was sucking my cock. Diane also asked why I 
had stopped last night, and did not have some fun with Sonia 
when you carried her to bed. When you returned so fast, I 
thought she had fallen asleep. Sonia told me she felt like 
you did not like her.

"Don't you know pleasure is rare; you knew it was OK, I told 
you about my daughter."

She had explained that her daughter and her had an unusual 
relationship, and that Mom and daughter stretched usual 
categories, and then, returning to the smacks, bites, and 
pulls, she begged for more, making me promise not to stop 
until she said the word, "Molly."

Laughing at the allusion, I did not assume to Molly Bloom, as 
O did not know how well Diane had educated herself. No way 
she had read Ulysses, I thought, but she had. "I like Leopold 
too," she added, "and his bad kidneys."

"Slow down," I said as she fucked me deeper. "I don't want to 
kill you, I mildly protested, turned on fully to the whole 
scene and releasing all the walls I had created.

"I can't really hurt anyone," I said and she knew it. "I 
cannot beat you any harder."

"What the fuck good are you then," she laughed. "No, don't 
worry, you won't, and if you did, so what. Who the fuck cares 
about old whores, at least I'll die young and in the saddle."

When Diane got on top, shortly, after her wistful tear 
jerking, I fucked her, slapping her cheeks almost as hard as 
I could. Then harder, my heart raced, knowing, or hoping 
there would be bruises, she said. "Please, more, don't worry 
if my nose bleeds, and when I came out of it, breathe, I 
said, putting my mouth up her cunt, enraged, cutting her 
shoulders and tits with my nails. Falling off, she, out of 
breath said, not bad for a tenderfoot, and laughing, turned 
over, and baring herself, she leaked.

"I could get pregnant you know. 'Bout that time of month,'" 
she said. "Want a daughter?"

She said it not for permission but to ask my preference. It 
was more like an announcement, and when I hesitated, she 
nervously, said, "sure. I only have girls. Boys I throw back. 
I just want you to know. No, I haven't yet," she laughed 
taking a deep drag.

After the third day in the saddle, Diane gave her stamp of 
approval.

"You can hang," she mussed my hair, feeling my ass, I love 
what you do, done, did, will do, and I will only tie you up, 
if you ask, not just because I want it. You know I am a liar 
now."

"OK. We could," I answered, "occasionally, but it was not my 
only thing, I wasn't lying."

Changing the subject, Diane asked. "Do you mind three stupid 
women?"

"Where's the third, expecting another woman to suddenly show 
up with a hand held machine gun. "Who else? Where is Sonia? 
Where is she, I asked. How old is the third? No, that would 
make four with the baby your mother baby sits.

"Right. She stays with my mother. Where the fuck do you think 
I get the tit milk. Maria is fifteen months."

"No, Juliet, she's 11, and a fox, gets back next week, 
staying with her father who teaches college in New York. See 
I am fair. We were never married, and I let her go. What can 
happen to her in New York that hasn't happened here."

"You mean like Sonia fucking with us," I answered.

"Don't be so high and mighty, I know it turned you on."

"I did that in Nam, I confessed having no idea why I started 
to open up to her.

Once fucked Mama and kid daughter at the same time. They were 
like twins. Paid good for it. Specialty of some out of the 
way, off limits, houses in Nam. Import the kids from the 
provinces. Only the pretty teens and little girls suck and 
fuck. When they are 16, they are sold to American business 
interests for slave labor. What shits we are."

"Tell me more," Diane spoke up, involved in what I observed.

"Once saw a bean pole five strippers kill a kid with his 
prick. Ripped her guts out, he was in so far. He bragged 
about it to his bros."

"My little girl stays in New York, as she ignored my ugly 
comments about Nam, Diane didn't slow up, telling me about 
the child, almost as if the kid were a sacred icon.

"She comes home from her summer with Daddy, at least she did 
last year, sassy, spoiled rotten, with arms full of new 
clothes and a check for child support."

"Quite a curious miss," she said. I taught her to be 
seductive with people (not just men) as I taught Sonia. I 
also told her not to act on it in New York especially around 
her father. So I suppose I taught her fear and guilt as well 
as pleasure."

Turning to me, she put her hands on my face and said, "Don't 
worry, I'm on welfare, not looking for a hand out, just an 
understanding sexy man for what ached. I make good money. You 
know that, lot of money off the books giving massages and 
hand jobs. If the guy offers enough, I will blow him, but no 
fucking. You don't mind what I do, do you?"

"No," I said, "why should I. It's your life."

"It is yours too if you stay here to heal," Diane added, 
"well I didn't think you did."

Sensing my arrogance, almost repulsion/attraction, Diane shot 
back. "What makes you think I want to stay with you 
motherfucker?"

Diane knew I had not really made up my mind. I am just 
passing, I thought, saying the words, not as a threat or to 
be wise-ass. I always try to be fair even when being a shit 
ass. Besides, I wanted her to know I had my own agenda.

"You got to do what you got to do," she said, "but you'll 
love us, and fuck, it ain't gonna cost you a dime. Just talk 
poetry, and keep me going; you know what I mean. Isn't that 
what you do? Fuck up girls and women with your corny lines 
and shit."

"Yes, I teach. Been doing it for a year back from Nam."

"What is my name," Diane asked suddenly; answer fast, it's a 
test."

"Diane," I laughed.

"Just wanted to know if you had listened."

"I listen to eyes," I said.

"You have no idea how many guys I fuck that I never know 
their name or them mine. I am not talking about the tricks, 
but the regular folks I meet selling my ass."

"I try to please," I said, taking her hands in mine and 
putting them on my chest so she could pinch my nipples.

"Well you are good." Shivering, weak, she stumbled, just 
having gotten up from the bed, she patted her hairy sex, 
opening the lips to look at them, give me more of a show, 
rubbing her clit, obviously not done.

I was, but I pride myself for being there for the woman who 
has just swallowed my load.

Diane sensing that permission, leaned back against my legs 
and chest, while holding my right hand with hers, she 
masturbated with the other. After she came, as I watched, 
head back, she screamed, folding my fingers back, she tried 
to hurt them, not really a request, but more a command. When 
I twisted them back another request, she said "not far 
enough, more, hurt it, I am a slut, a shit, push me back, cut 
my face, no my ass with your nails."

I did none of that, just pushing them back. I asked her what 
she needed, and she said, "more than you can give."

"By the way, my older daughter's name, the one in New York, 
the one not slutting around you, if you are curious, although 
I'm not sure why," she laughed," is Juliet."

"You told me, yes."

Why did she say that? How did she know that was exactly what 
I was thinking when she came, wondering how the girl I saw in 
pictures dressing her mother's dresser, related to the scene. 
The pictures showed a curious child, looked like her mother, 
on the dresser. The child had wise eyes, older than life, and 
seemed a great laugh in a child's body like Sonia, but still, 
all in all, she also looked more like the mother and seemed 
in one photo shot at the beach very wet with abandon.

"She's named after my Baptist mother, Diane added. My Mom 
always wanted to be called Juliet. Seemed she fucked a Romeo 
once so she like to brag. Yes, I know Romeo Meats."

"Yes, I am one," Diane said after that speech about her 
mother. "I am not a whore, really; I give blow jobs and hand 
jobs at the "Massage Queen ranch," where I met your dick, 
finishing them off. I also get what I can get. They just pay 
me five an hour to sit there and wait for the Johns to arrive 
at lunchtime or after diner when they are going bowling with 
the boys. Sometimes, I strip for 'em.

"You know I really like to dance. Will you watch? Stripping 
you know is much more than taking your clothes off to bump 
and grind music. An attitude. You really don't have to show 
much, until the end, and sometimes, the less you show, while 
you're actually, was better, or if you show what they really 
don't want to see, your cunt, then they back off. Most men 
are afraid of the mouth, think they're gonna get trapped, 
castrated, quite simple, my shrink said, as she herself comes 
out to the little old Massage Ranch, and I give a good one as 
barter for our head sessions."

Diane laughed at her pun. "No sex. Not that. She does not get 
fidgety. I love how she takes deep breaths, opening and 
closing her eyes, lifting and lowering her pelvis. I tell her 
to slow down that I know the tricks to lessen tension. I take 
each muscle, especially the inner parts, up to the edge of 
her cunt where she catches her breath, and comes just from 
teasing fingers. She is chicken, she told me, but refusing to 
admit that I was the one to make her come. Bullshit. I did it 
and you fuckin' know it.""Actually no," she said. "No, that 
would change our therapeutic relationship."

I laughed at the fuckin' liar and phony. "Still it might feel 
good, my shrink said finally, as she parted her legs on the 
table allowing me to twist her clit so she could "resolve" as 
she called it. "If you don't mind, I don't, I told her. I 
like giving pleasure."

"Please, No," she said. "I can't, really can't. My husband 
would like a massage; you could pay me that way too. Maybe do 
us both some time. "He's a pediatrician, we met in school, 
too long ago, she said, and he doesn't do it much any more, 
for my ass, or with me my ass; must have a girl friend, O.K. 
possibly a boy friend, and then she stopped. It would be too 
easy, wouldn't it, a three some, or maybe a foreplay, I have 
not had one since." Then my shrink relaxed.

"I said," Dr. Simmons, "accept yourself, like you said."

"Yes, it's that problem," she said, I could, but the law said 
no." Looking her in the eye, Henry, I told her many things 
the law says are wrong today, were right yesterday, and the 
reverse. I do not care for the law if it hinders my life, I 
told her. I would not stop for it, but I would never hurt 
anyone, and I never really agreed to visit his or her home, 
or fuck her husband. I know she wanted me to watch her do 
him. She wanted to watch me do him as well, and her too. I 
suggested she install a massage table in her office. That way 
she could help her patience relax or she could. She was like 
most men and women who say they really care, but don't, but 
that's fine, after all, if the world were good, you wouldn't 
need my contribution, and what use would come from my life."

Last month I offered to set up a table in her office and she 
finally agreed, and then No, she said, last week, this great 
mind turned it down, I am just like you she teased, "I don't 
want the men in my life to know what I really want. Too easy 
for them that way or that minimizes what I am."

Welfare does not know what I do, I shouted back at her angry 
for changing her mind.

"If I got arrested, I am in trouble. The out of town shits 
rarely want to pay anything. The locals over pay think if 
they were generous, they would get more. Yes, if they want to 
pay an extra ten, once in a while, they will offer fifty for 
a fuck, and if I like them, I will, if they are clean and use 
a rubber, and I use a diaphragm, but I won't fuck any one I 
don't like, and I don't do nothing with Mexicans and poor 
black, not because of race, if they're rich then OK, don't 
want any disease.

"I made the Dr. come," and she never protested, but tipped me 
an extra twenty. Such liars we all are, Diane laughed, 
finally kissing me after that long story.

Henry was mesmerized by Diane's stories. When she told him 
she had enough, he insisted, and she believed he was 
interested.

"Sometimes, a woman comes in for a special as she puts it, 
and I get her off. Most of the straight teenagers refuse the 
job. She pays plenty, and besides, its fun to make a woman 
come, so easy, at times. This one paid me fifty to eat her, 
and I did. She had shaved it completely nude, and except for 
the lips, she looked like my ten year old Sonia. No, I won't 
touch Mexicans and poor blacks, not because of race, if 
they're rich, its OK, don't want any disease, it's that 
simple you see."

Finally, we got to what was really on her mind. How long did 
I want to stay? She wanted me to there so she would not be 
lonely. No cost, she kept saying. As I twisted my head back 
and forth speaking about her sweet children, and how long I 
could stay, you got me, man, she said, "I'm yours for free, 
well, shit, I'll pay you. Hang around and watch my daughters 
while I work, OK, and you can do what you like, no cost, no 
fuss, no bother."

Part II.

Those first months in Texas, I taught at the community 
college, and Diane would take my classes, pretend she did not 
know my name at first, or what where I lived.

When some student flirted or I flirted, she told me later, it 
did not matter, as she knew if our situation were reversed, I 
would not mind.

In fact, I didn't mind the hundreds of sexual encounters she 
had each month to pay the rent or buy books, or how little I 
earned teaching two classes for twenty an hour when she 
sometimes made fifty and even a hundred on Saturdays.

Overall, I liked her present world sight (with a few 
unimportant exceptions), and it is smaller, but still defined 
boundaries.

Diane was much clearer. She said, "Do my life," and she 
enjoyed it, did not pretend. She was good in my class. Asked 
good questions and I gave her a fair A minus. She earned it.

I stayed with Diane until I hurt as much as she did. Hurt 
from the inside. When I played her game, I had to hold back, 
not wanting to bruise body or face (she did wear a bikini 
when she worked).

Admittedly, it was a learned response, and besides, what she 
craved was the marks I dug inside her skin, so she could keep 
the illusions, always dressing up her daughters, encouraging 
them to frolic naked, in our bed, bare ass.

When I had an erection, Diane said, -don't worry, let them 
see it, don't hide, and then I petted Diane's ass, while I 
never encouraged mother to fondle daughters (not that she 
needed any encouragement) I was aroused by it.

We did sex, mothers, men, and childs, all in the open, and I 
was afraid the incest and pedophilia was going to get us in 
bad trouble. One false word and we would be lost. Sometimes I 
am very weak, and in spite of my reservations, and fears, I 
did passionately make out with Sonia and Juliet just kissing 
both the girls for hours with soft tongue and hard cock not 
as an invasion, but as a rubbing. I pretended I was in the 
movies, watching TV.

Meanwhile, Diane continued to rock a now almost sleeping 
Juliet on her lap, touching her nipples and then when Judy 
pretended to nurse Diane, I have expected a miracle and the 
letting down of milk.

"Lotsa milk left," Mom said, I'm glad I got it back; the last 
fucken queer cock sucker I fucked big time hated my 
daughters, thought I was perverted, except when he beat me 
half to death with his fist. That man was a pious shit head, 
and I can't believe I loved, probably still love his ass.

"What," I asked, confused. "You beg me to hit your ass and 
face, to whip you, to make a mockery of your kids."

What a fool and hypocrite I thought of myself.

"That is it," she said. You don't like it, or you're aroused 
by it, but for that fuckin' guy, Nil Davis, that was his 
shittin' name, my kids were a pain in the ass, and I was a 
human freak he paraded for my tits and ass, and then when he 
was angry at himself for drinking, not working, or losing 
another job, he beat the shit out the kids not because it 
turned him on, but because it turned him off. He didn't like 
sex really, never came." "Was he queer?"

"Hated the fucks. Bragged that he split some queer nigger's 
skull in Nam. Fragged the fuck," he said. Neal love to screw 
people up.

"My daughters were my only relief. You know I aborted two of 
his kids. Didn't want the suckers."

"When you and I kissed Sonia and Juliet for hours," Diane 
said, and I watch, smoking, or joining the fun, some folks 
might have said that we were the biggest shittin' freaks in 
the universe. Fuckin' with kid's head, all right. They would 
have said, and that we deserved to be put out of misery like 
sick dogs. They would have done it too, had they found us 
fucking their kids, and she and I knew it. We knew the 
relationship was almost over. After all, the cops could be 
right. Not too sure some times. Know the law but not fully, 
morality. "All I am and know," Diane said at the end, "is 
that I love how you used just lips and tongue even when the 
kids offered more, you still kissed well, whispering as you 
bit Juliet's, Sonia's or my tongue, playfully, that we were 
your loves."

"No, just kiss, I love your mouth, Sonia said, and then when 
you're ready, you would lean against my chest, and you come 
rubbing yourself off between my legs, not inside, between, so 
I feel the flood, the icky mess, as I laugh out loud, but not 
the hurt that obviously she had felt by some too rough guy, 
taking advantage.

"I know Mom uses us," Sonia said. At least she doesn't lie to 
us about it." Mom makes us bait for men and paid sex, but she 
didn't really need to do that, she was still so incredibly 
beautiful, Sonia said still proud of her mother.

Just before I left Texas, Diane said. "What I want is your 
attention, only at the time I need it. I want you to know how 
I feel inside when you come. Did you know I really come only 
when you come? The rest is an act. My daughters are extra, 
and their sexy ways as if their actual lives happened by 
accident (I couldn't keep it a secret) and what goes on is 
what I am, and if I could change it, would I. I hated the 
loneliness when I was little, and when I was alone, I would 
fuck any intelligent man who did not insult my name by 
offering money, or gifts. The last one was an exception. I 
knew he had brains, but wasn't educated, still he was a shit, 
and was too self involved, as you are, but you give back, and 
he believed if he gave back his act was over, his strategy 
for perversity was wiped out.

See, I read books, do you know that one about sick fucks like 
yours truly, but being significant is not too much, and you 
bring it out, and please, watch out.

And in the end, it was always a play: "now, Juliet, Diane 
would say, you kiss Sonia, and the Momma played the grand 
director, and yes, wanted you to kiss her now. Only as she 
said, I want him to kiss me as he kisses you, here, Mummy, 
pointing to her vagina, as she said "cunt."

At the end, I would laugh while Mama held my hand as I rubbed 
it for her.

"Thank you," Diane said, kissing my neck, and taking my hand 
she placed it on her tit for a moment, and then Sonia asked 
when will mine grow, so I can I look under there."

"What I asked." Sonia looked deeply into her mother's pubic 
hair and rustled it with her nose. "There, inside," she said. 
"Where I came from, you know, what you call a cunt," her 
mother corrected her, "no a vagina."

"No you said Cunt."

OK, Diane agreed, "Cunt."

"Can I put a band-aid there, Mother?"

"Sure," Diane said.

Diane casually took a tampex out and pushing the cardboard 
inside her daughter, she casually looked at her watch easing 
it inside and outside, walking the device down into Sonia's 
road. Mother slipped the inserter slowly, then vigorously, 
deep inside.

"Oh mummy can I pull the string?"

"Sure," and it came out, and when it was half way out of her 
mother, Sonia said, "Mummy I want too," and climbing in her 
mother's arms, excited, half out of her mind, laughing, 
jumping up and down, Sonia screamed, "you have a penis Mummy. 
Can I have one?"

Diane sat her down, and taking a Q-tip, she opened Sonia's 
cunt, and said, "Its good."

"Oh mummy, don't be silly, use your toys, Juliet does, I saw 
her, and opening her mother's night stand, she took out a 
tiny vibrator, and pushed inside, feeling grown up, sexual, 
quite excited, see how easy Sonia said, it goes inside, see 
Mummy,"

So it did.

I left the next day before the twisted man of Vietnam became 
the killer of Texas. I actually loved Diane for her honesty, 
but I hated myself for my weakness. She would have found a 
way to lead me to her death. I would not have murdered her. I 
am not capable of that direct crime. 

I left her because I didn't know if I could ever be sane if I 
lived with her another day. That is what I perceived at 
least.



More American Adventures in erotica and other works by Sean Farragher:

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Sean_Farragher/


Sean  Farragher

Poetry Site: http://www.farragher.com

TxM6 Sites:
http://www.taximurders.com
http://www.taximurders.com/enfer
http://www.taximurders.com/lcfallon
http://www.taximurders.com/paradisio   (forthcoming)

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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