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Subject: {ASSM} The Innocent Fugitives Ch10 {Varkel} (m+g gang)
Date: Thu, 15 Feb 2001 08:10:04 -0500
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The Innocent Fugitives
a Novel by Varkel
Copyright (C) 2001, Varkel



Chapter 10:  High and Low



"What's been keeping you?" Jimmy complained when Bobbie found him 
next to the fence.  "Everybody is waiting."

Her face lit with sudden excitement.  "How many are there?"

"Seven, counting myself.  Only three of us can be up there with 
you at one time.  Some guys will have to wait down below for their 
turns."

"Seven!" she breathed and licked her lips.

They went through the gate and made their way to the large maple 
with its crude tree house perched precariously in the platform of 
branches.  Four boys in their mid teens and another who seemed 
younger squatted on the ground.  They sprang to their feet at 
sight of the girl.

They gathered around her, staring silently at first.  She endured 
their scrutiny with a slight smile, favoring each in turn.

But the largest of them made a face toward the smallest, who gaped 
at her nervously, and sneered, "She's no older than Tommy."

Bobbie studied the smallest and found him pretty.  She smiled and 
he grinned back shyly.

"She doesn't even have tits," someone said derisively.

"She has what counts," Jimmy declared with authority.

"Then I'm first," the largest insisted, taking hold of Bobbie's 
arm.  He might have been as old as sixteen.

Jimmy, less than pleased by the unexpected criticism, declared, 
"You'll take your turn!"  He pushed the older boy away.

"Bring her up," Mark called from the tree house, peering down from 
the opening.

Bobbie scampered up the now familiar rungs like a tomboy and 
climbed onto the platform.  Jimmy was close behind her.  The 
girl's cheeks were flushed in eager expectation and she quickly 
disrobed.  Someone had prepared a pallet more comfortable than the 
one of yesterday by adding some army blankets.

The older boy had climbed the ladder behind Jimmy.  Now he tried 
to push himself into the crowded packing crate, but Mark kicked at 
him and yelled in anger, "Get down, Jeff!  You're not running this 
show!"

The newcomer's attitude displeased Bobbie.  He seemed to be a 
brute.  "I don't want him," she declared.  "He's not nice."

Mark and Jimmy looked at her in surprise.  They had not imagined 
the girl would pick and choose.

Jeff roared, "I'll fuck you, you little cunt, and I'll be first."  
He pulled himself into the crude structure.

Bobbie rolled herself into a ball.

"I won't, I won't," she screamed as Jeff stooped over her, trying 
to lay her flat.

"Get away, get away, get away," Jimmy yelled and kicked repeatedly 
at the larger boy.  Mark handed Jimmy one of the billyclubs.

"Ow, god!" the large boy complained when the lead-filled end of 
Jimmy's club struck the back of his head.  He rose off the girl, 
reaching for Jimmy, but Mark immediately slugged his head again 
from behind, actually striking him across an ear lobe.

"Ow, Jesus!" Jeff screamed, falling to his knees, hand to ear in 
anguish.

The girl's two protectors pushed Jeff to the opening.  Mark kicked 
him in the buttocks solidly, propelling him against the tree 
trunk, down which he slid, too dazed to clutch the rungs, one of 
which his falling body knocked loose.  He landed on the mulchy 
ground below with a thud and sat up, holding his sides and 
whimpering.

But shortly he was on his feet.  He grabbed the arm of the nearest 
boy.  "Hugh, go get that can of gasoline in your garage.  We'll 
show them who's running this show!"

"Are you crazy?" retorted Hugh, shaking off the hand.

Jimmy, looking down from the tree house, called, "The girl says 
she won't have you, Jeff.  Why don't you just cut out?"

The large boy glanced around at the others.  None would meet his 
eyes.  Seething with anger, he turned away, warning with a sneer, 
"I'm going to tell."

"Forget him," Jimmy called.  "Hugh, why don't you come on up?"

He turned around to find Bobbie uncurled and lying on her back, 
legs spread apart provocatively, looking at him.  She beckoned 
invitingly.  "I want you first."

Jimmy had lain awake much of the night stroking himself and 
wondering if she truly had swallowed the semen expelled through 
the fence yesterday, no trace of which could be found on the 
ground.  Instead of simply asking her, which could possibly prove 
embarrassing, he had thought to let her suck him off as his 
opening act today.  But now she drew up her knees, indicating 
clearly how she wanted it.

He was already half hard at the sight.  With a shrug he pulled 
down his britches to his knees and crawled upon her.  She, too, 
had anticipated this.  Her nearly mature vagina was anything but 
dry.  He slipped into her easily.  Her arms went around his neck 
and she whispered almost inaudibly, "I like you best, Jimmy."

That pronouncement pleased him.  He thrust into her for perhaps 
one minute before delivering the result of his hours of unrelieved 
stimulation.

"Wow!" she exclaimed, eyes widening, removing her arms from his 
neck.  "That was a lot!"

"How can you tell?"

"If feels cool."

Cool?  As having a lower temperature?  He shook his head in 
puzzlement, but he knew the drill.  "Mark's next, right?"

"Right."  She was already smiling past him as he withdrew.

Both Mark and Hugh, the wide-eyed newcomer, were already naked.  
Both stroked erections.  Mark hustled to replace his friend.


* * *


The girl proved ultimately in charge.  Jimmy acted as her regent.  
When Hugh crawled atop her, she said to Mark, "Let the next come 
up and watch."

"But there's not enough room!" he protested.

Her eyes never wavered.  "Your turn will come around faster if 
they're ready for me."

He looked to Jimmy for support, but that worthy had bent behind 
the two sets of legs to study the plunging junction.  Mark sighed, 
slipped his clothes back on and disappeared in the opening.  
Almost immediately young Tommy popped up in his place.

Hugh was groaning.  Jimmy advised the newcomer, "Hurry up and get 
naked.  Hugh's about to shoot."

None of them lasted more than minute or two on his first turn, and 
though she smiled at each as he mounted her, none offered to kiss 
her.  The consequence of their effort was cumulative.  When 
Harold, the fifth one, put into her, liquid squished out audibly 
onto the blankets, also for the sixth and most notably for Jimmy 
at the start of his second turn.

She only began to feel real pleasure with Mark upon her for his 
second time.  He furnished her a mild orgasm in company with his 
own.  Thereafter she spiraled into a deepening vortex of ecstasy, 
orgasm after orgasm, with twisting torso and gritted teeth during 
the necessary intervals between lovers.  She became conscious only 
of the instruments that plowed her to delirium.  Boy replaced boy 
atop her in bleary succession.  Eventually the ecstasy grew 
overwhelming.  She was unconscious when Tommy came back for 
thirds.

"Is she dead," he exclaimed in fright, pushing at the sweaty 
girl's bare shoulder to no effect.  He was in the tree house with 
Jimmy and Mark, who had already had their thirds.

"You punks!" an angry voice yelled from below.  "It's our turn 
now."

Jimmy looked down and saw four older teens at the base of the 
tree.  Jeff, leading them, began to climb up.  Jimmy grabbed a 
billyclub and raised it as a weapon.  Tommy, unarmed and naked, 
imbued with a sudden determination to protect the person who had 
just soaked his entire genitalia, pushed his body out of the tree 
house and stood on the top rung to block its entrance.  Behind him 
Mark slapped the swooned girl awake.

Tommy was grabbed from below and flung to the ground.  Jeff's head 
suddenly appeared and Jimmy smashed it with his cudgel, causing 
the boy to duck back and cry out in pain and outrage.  The 
newcomers below, eager for a free fuck, shouted and yelled.  
Apparently they had brought a supply of fist-sized rocks.  The 
packing crate rattled with the thud of missiles, some of which 
shot through the opening and caromed around inside.  Bobbie cried 
out when one bounced against her shoulder.

Jeff's hand, clutching a branch near the tree house, received a 
stinging blow from Mark's billyclub, used at last as intended.  
Screaming, Jeff let go and fell to the ground, where he sat up, 
cursing his erstwhile friend at the top of his lungs.  Another 
newcomer climbed higher to perch on a rung just below the reach of 
the billyclubs, adding his taunts to the din, hoping to grab an 
injudiciously extended billyclub and thus jerk its wielder to the 
ground.

The supply of rocks was soon exhausted, with few reusable because 
hardly any could be found again after falling into the thick 
brush.  The combatants had reached an impasse, which only 
increased the shouted invective.  In fact, short of fire or higher 
energy weapons, it was soon apparent to both sides that the two 
visible in the tree house were not to be dislodged.

Jimmy kept watch while Mark hurriedly threw on his clothing.  Mark 
handed her garments to the girl with the advice, "Better get 
dressed."

Her face contorted in disappointment.  She asked plaintively, 
"Can't we do any more fucking?"

"Well ..." began Mark, studying her lithe body with its now 
crimson labia, groin and legs thoroughly streaked with various 
shades of cream, some of it beginning to crust over.

But he was not permitted a full reply.  The noise of their battle 
had attracted attention unwelcome to all.  However directed, 
either by a fearful neighbor or by overhearing the din while on 
routine patrol, two uniformed policemen, guns in hand and ready 
for anything, burst upon the scene from the direction of the gate.

"Cops!" someone yelled, and the boys on the ground vanished into 
the brush, leaving Tommy unconscious and naked at the base of the 
tree and Jeff, having regained leadership of his faction, clinging 
to an upper rung of the crude ladder.

"Bobbie!" Mark whispered hoarsely, thrusting her clothing into her 
arms.  "The cops are here!  Take this and climb higher on the 
tree.  Can you do that?"

Bobbie shook off the concupiscent fog.  She knew what was at 
stake: her life with Paul and Jenny.  She did not tarry to don her 
clothes.  With a boost from Mark she was able to grab the limb 
just above the window hole.  From there she climbed higher and 
higher until the branches were too thin to support her body.  A 
screen of broad, late summer leaves concealed her.  She peered 
through them to the scene below, moving her head from one vantage 
to the other.

One officer was bent to the naked Tommy, now propped up against 
the tree trunk.  His gruff voice was not unkind.  "Where do you 
hurt, kid?"

Mark and Jimmy were handcuffed together; Jeff was handcuffed 
separately.  The second policeman was gripping a youthful arm in 
each hand.  No other boy was visible.

"What's this about a girl?" he demanded, shaking the arm in his 
left hand, which coincidentally belonged to Jimmy.

"Girl?" the boy responded.  "You think we'd let a girl in our tree 
house?"

The shake transferred to Jeff.  "You the one claiming he saw a 
girl?"

"He never saw a girl!" Jimmy interrupted scornfully.  "He just 
heard somebody wishing for one."

"Shut up, you!  Now, you little fart" -- another shake for Jeff -- 
"was a girl up there or not?"

Jeff audibly gritted his teeth.  "I saw her.  She's still in 
there.  They were all fucking her."

"I'll check it out, Joe," said the cop bent over Jimmy, a smaller 
man probably 30 pounds lighter than the burly captor of the boys.  
He began to climb carefully, keeping his weight near the center of 
the boards.  Everyone below watched his progress with great 
interest.  When he reached the missing rung his head had already 
passed through the packing crate opening.  He reached in and threw 
out a brown army blanket, which fluttered to the ground, followed 
by a set of boy's clothing.  Then he quickly descended.

"Anything?" asked his partner.

"Yeah."  He retrieved the blanket and held it up, showing several 
white spots, one still wet and large as a hand.  "No doubt about 
what this is."  He sneered at the boys.  "Didn't they tell you how 
you can go blind doing that?"

"A circle jerk?" asked his partner.  "What about a girl?"

"No sign of her.  These are boy's clothes, probably would fit this 
one.  I think that one is right.  They _wished_ for a girl!"  He 
scowled at Jeff.  "Some of them."

"I swear she was --" began Jeff.

"Shut up, you little fart," said his captor, giving him another 
shake.  "Are you the one who started all the trouble here?"

"_Me_?"

"You're the one with the lumps on your head."

"They _hit_ me!"

"I'm sure they did.  I'll tell you what: if it turns out you had 
anything to do with that one being naked, I'll break your face.  
What they did to you will seem like love taps."

Jeff's eyes widened and his mouth clamped shut.

The huge policeman shoved all three captives back against the 
tree.  "I don't like the looks of this one little bit: the 
smallest one stark naked and the others fighting over him.  You do 
know what a judge will make of that, don't you?"

When they only stared, he continued.  "Maybe you don't, but for 
your information, such games can put you in the slammer for the 
rest of your life.  What about the little one, Michael?"

The smaller man responded, "Just had the breath knocked out of 
him, I think.  Here, son.  Put on your clothes before I have to 
arrest you for indecent exposure."

The burly one began removing handcuffs.  "I'm going to give you 
boys a break.  Just once.  If I ever catch you so much as spitting 
on the sidewalk again, you can kiss your little round asses good-
bye.  And don't think I won't remember you!  You got that?"

"Yes, sir!"  "Yes, sir!"

Bobbie clung to a branch for a long time after everyone had gone.  
The sky became dim.  Her legs were sticky with semen.  She finally 
dared to climb cautiously down the tree, wincing at a soreness 
almost familiar in the vagina but strange in hips and thighs, to a 
point just above the packing crate on top of which she had thrown 
her clothing.  She dressed quickly and after listening carefully 
to the sigh of wind and the absence of other sounds, descended to 
the ground.  She scurried along the fence and down the alley to 
the motel room, where, she knew, she would have to tell Paul a 
phony story if he asked.

But, oh, wow!  She had long suspected her lovers of quitting too 
soon, even Paul.  Yesterday she had begun to learn what two males 
might do for her.  And now!  She could have never imagined that 
life contained such ecstasy -- if the dumb boys just wouldn't 
fight!

The motel always had empty rooms whose keys hung behind the 
registration desk, where Hanna indulgently let her roam.  How 
could she get word to Jimmy and the _nice_ boys to come to such a 
room?


* * *


Paul put down his book as the door opened to admit a bedraggled 
Jenny.  He stood up, smiling, but she ignored him and marched 
straight for the bathroom, stopping half-way around the bed when 
she heard the water falling.  She regarded him incredulously.

"Why is Bobbie taking a shower at this hour -- or in fact is that 
Bobbie?"

"It's Bobbie," he confirmed, "and she marched straight across the 
room to the shower without so much as a howdy-do, just like you."

She lowered her head.  "I'm sorry, Paul."

"I only hope it wasn't for the same reason.  She's been gone 
somewhere for the last three hours."

"Well, she wasn't in the conference room!"

Jenny craned her neck to look at the back of her jeans, swiped her 
buttocks twice with her hand, then sat in the straight chair 
before the desk.

"Try not to smell me," she warned.

He was standing around the foot of the bed from her, studying her 
face and the matted streaks in her hair.  "Hard day?" he asked 
sympathetically.

She shook her head.  "It was ..."  She heaved a sigh.  "It was a 
terrible day, Paul" -- she shivered -- "yet I have to admit, to 
you ... I enjoyed it."  She heaved a sigh.  "God, I loved it!"

He smiled slightly.  "Do those conclusions belong together?"

"You think not?  Then how about these two:  disgusted with myself 
and Hannah yet ready to do it all again next week?"

He nodded slowly.  "I've felt that way, too, not so long ago, in 
fact."

She stared at him.  "When?"

He shrugged.  "The night you and I fucked Bobbie.  And the two or 
three times I've done it since.  I still feel that way about her.  
Did you fuck little boys today?"

"Huh!  Everything but!  Some of the guys in the orgy must have 
been in their sixties."  She sighed again and shook her head.  "I 
can't believe all I did today." 

"Anything besides fucking?"

She cocked her head at him.  "What constitutes a fuck, Paul?"

He laughed a little.  "Do you really have any doubt about that?"

"Maybe I do.  I'm trying to give you a quantitative answer.  Does 
it count if a man just ejaculates on me or does he have to put his 
cock in?"

"You had a man who only ejaculated on you?"

She nodded slowly.  "Several, as many as six or seven, maybe more.  
In that scene I was a white woman captured by savages who showed 
their contempt by coming in my face.  Did you know that seminal 
fluid in the eyes burns?  Not bad, but it does burn, rather like 
some eye washes.  From there it runs into the tear ducts.  I'm 
still smelling it."

"In that scene did they use an anisotropic screen behind you?"

"Yeah, showing woods and a burning fort.  How'd you know?"

He grinned.  "Hannah's book."

She made a face at him.  "Maybe you should've come along after 
all.  You would probably enjoy the technical side of it."

"You weren't the only woman, were you?"

"Oh, no.  Six other ... actresses -- believe me, that's the right 
word! -- were there, plus a whole bunch of supporting types.  One 
of the cameramen was a woman.  And Hannah.  They really do welcome 
her advice."

"'Actresses,' eh?  Did you have any trouble qualifying?"

She grunted.  "Are you kidding?  The only acting those girls did 
was pretending to climax.  If you stood back and watched some of 
them, you'd have to laugh.  The director faulted me for that at 
first -- I mean, for being too dead pan.  He said to ham it up.  
Want to know something funny?  When you fake an orgasm, if you're 
not careful, it can get real!"

"Only for a woman," he observed sourly, took a breath and added, 
"A pretty good crowd, huh?"

"Maybe 50 or 60 people, I'd guess.  But it's a big room."

He nodded slowly.  "I think it would've been interesting."

"Hannah was afraid that you might ... lose your cool."

"When I saw everyone fucking _you_, eh?  How many of them fucked 
you?"

She lowered her eyes.  "Parts of it are kind of blurry."

"Blurry!  My god, they didn't drug you, did they?"

"No, nothing like that.  I mean ..."  She took a very deep breath 
and shuddered, though her expression suggested less disgust than 
fascination.  "In a scene after lunch I was a German woman during 
the rape of Berlin.  Somebody complained that the uniforms weren't 
the right color for Russians in 1945, which caused a lot of 
yelling, so I ended up fucking nine naked Russians, so-called, 
three groups of three at a time.  It taught me something I hadn't 
known.  Something about myself."  She studied him, the color 
rising in her face.  "I thought I was frigid, unable to enjoy sex 
as much as most of the women I overheard in powder rooms.  But, 
Paul ..."

"Go on."

She shook her head.  "I think I must in fact be a nymphomaniac."

He chuckled grimly.  "Well, if it takes three sets of three men 
fucking you together to bring it out, I don't think you have much 
to worry about.  Is that when it got blurry?"

"Yeah.  After that I was an extra in three orgy scenes.  I guess 
that's where I got all this come in my hair.  And everywhere else.  
I'm _streaked_ with it, Paul, all over!"  She jumped up.  "What's 
the matter with that girl?"

With chin thrust out, Jenny pushed into the bathroom.  A cloud of 
steam erupted, choked off when she closed the door behind her.  
Shortly a pink and naked Bobbie emerged, again in a burst of 
steam, toweling herself.  The door slammed shut but the water kept 
drumming behind it.

Drawing the towel between her legs, the girl winced as if it found 
a tender spot, desisted and looked at Paul with wide eyes.  
"What's with _her_?"

He responded dryly, "What's with both of you?"

"Huh?"

"I've never seen _you_ take such a long shower!"

"Oh.  Well, I couldn't seem to get all the ..."

"All the what?"

"Ah, ah --"  Her face brightened suddenly.  "All the dirt out of 
my hair."  The towel went to her head and began to twirl 
vigorously.

He nodded.  "She may have a similar problem.  Where've you been 
all afternoon?"

"Oh, playing.  I met some new friends."

"In the conference room?"

"In the --  You mean, with Jenny?  No.  I tried that this morning.  
They wouldn't let me in, said I was too young."  Now stretching 
the towel behind her, she cocked her head at him.  "Do you know 
what Jenny was doing in there?  She and another one was sucking 
off a big dude."

"Thought you said they wouldn't let you in!"

"I got a glimpse through the door.  I think they was taking 
pictures of her."

"Hmpf.  Come here and let me dry your back."

She bounced close with alacrity.  Her labia were reddened and 
puffy, about twice as large, he realized, as he recalled them.  
"Well," he said in relief, guessing wrong, "I guess we know what 
took you so long in the shower."

She followed his gaze then looked up with a slight smile.  "You 
caught me."

He shook his head.  "See how swollen you are!  Bobbie, I believe 
you can hurt yourself doing that.  What did you use?"

She studied him.  At last she said, "I've got a hairbrush with a 
fat handle.  I've been using it for a long time."

"Have you!"

"Yes.  Wanna see me do it?"

"No, that's all right.  God, you are lovely!"  He took the towel 
and wiped the moisture off her back.  She turned in his arms and 
pressed a nipple, puckered despite its lack of backing, against 
his mouth, which as it happened was just the right height above 
the floor because of his seated position.  Despite himself he 
opened his lips and suckled it gently.

She smiled dreamily.  "Thanks for loving me, Paul.  I love for you 
to lick me, too."

His hand went automatically to the puffy labia.  Two fingers 
slipped between them.  "Oh!" she cried, pressing her soft and 
hairless mound against his palm.

Paul sighed deeply, withdrawing from her.  He asked rhetorically, 
"What is it about an available twelve year old that makes her so 
irresistible?"

"Because you want me."

"Yes, but that's what you call a circular argument."

"Circular?"  She shrugged, her hand falling to his britches.  "Let 
me do _you_ now, how about it?"

At that moment the shower noises ended in the bathroom.  Paul 
stood up, took the girl by the shoulders and turned her around to 
face the chest of drawers.  "Go get dressed," he told her.  "Jenny 
will be ready soon, and we'll go to supper."


* * *


The girl curled into a ball in her bed almost immediately after 
their return from the restaurant, even though warned that she 
would thereby miss her favorite television program.  Jenny felt of 
her forehead, then shrugged at the watching Paul.

He called, "We're going to sit on the patio, Bobbie, and let you 
get to sleep, if that's what you need."

The girl's answer was only to turn her face to the wall.  He 
beckoned to the woman and held the door for her.  They took seats 
in the lawn furniture on the skimpy patio that fronted each room.  
The sky was dark, still cloudy from the morning rain.  Traffic 
hissed on the thoroughfare a block over.

Paul said, "I found out why she was taking such a long shower."

"She told you?"

"Yeah.  Says she has a hairbrush whose handle she enjoys."

"Does she!  That's unusual.  Most girls are content to rub the 
clitoris or actually just above it.  I never knew one that 
commonly put things into herself, but after today ...  Huh!  I'm 
inclined to believe _anything_ to do with sex after what I saw -- 
what I _did_ -- today!"

"An eye-opener, was it?"

She shook her head.  "It opened everything, Paul.  At one point I 
had two cocks in my vagina at the same time."

"How did that feel?"

"Full! ...  No, I'm trying to be facetious.  What it felt was damn 
strange, because they were moving opposite each other, one going 
in while the other --"

"I get the picture," he interrupted.

"If you don't want to hear about it, quit asking."

"I'm sorry.  I _do_ want to hear."  He stirred restlessly.  "It's 
just taking me a while to get used to the idea."  He laughed 
bitterly.  "Which is rather strange.  Beth loved to regale me with 
her stories of other men."

Jenny studied his face in the dim light of the walkway bulbs.  She 
laid her hand atop his on the metal table.  "Paul, her idea was to 
taunt you with her infidelity, wasn't it?"

"Oh, yes!"

"Well, that's definitely not my object.  I don't understand what 
she hoped to accomplish, treating you so, but the reason _I'm_ 
telling you about it is only because you asked."  She sighed.  
"Also, I guess, because I do want to brag a little, but not in 
order to hurt or anger you.  Have you any idea how much my 
attitude had to change to let me do what I did today -- much less 
enjoy it?"

"Progress, eh?"

"Yes, I think so.  Paul, the truth is I was scared to death of 
men, not least of my own husband.  Now ...  Now I think men are 
lovely, and you're the best of all."  She grinned at him.  "Mr. 
Perfect Dick."

"Do _you_ think it's so perfect?"

"Well, by Hanna's definition ...  I can definitely feel it flip my 
cervix, and that sets me off, as you may have noticed."

"How many others flipped it today?  Or did you even notice?"

"Oh, I would notice that.  The answer is, _none_.  By 'flip' I 
mean that 'double bump' of Hanna's."

"Is it really so unusual?  I thought it was just part of Hanna's 
bull for disarming a man."

"Oh, no.  Such a thing really does happen, and I swear to you that 
I've felt it only with your cock, Mr. Perfect Dick."

"Thank you, then.  I guess that's a nice testimonial.  How about 
your ass?"

"My ass?  No, they didn't offer to put two in it at once, though 
they did that to another girl during the orgy."

"Hmm.  _Did_ they take you anally?"

"Yes, Paul, but they didn't get my cherry."

"Jenny, how many men did you fuck in your life before today?"

She only thought a moment.  "Five."

"Only _five_?  Are you sure?"

"Oh, yes.  My brother, an intern at nurse's school, my husband, 
you and Todd."

"The intern is new news."

"I was drunk.  In fact I don't remember anything about it.  I was 
sore the next morning and asked some of the girls.  They told me 
who it was."  She chuckled.  "They said I practically raped 
_him_!"

"_In vino veritas._"

"Maybe so.  Why did you ask that?"

"How many fucked you today?"

She took a breath.  "I don't know.  I heard the director say he 
had 17 working dicks before we got started.  Maybe a dozen put 
into me, some lots more than once.  But if you count being 
ejaculated on as fucking, then I was fucked more than any other 
woman.  Of course most of the time the men didn't come."

"They didn't!"

"No."  She chuckled.  "I think they'd need a lot more men if they 
always had to climax.  And some scenes had to be reshot several 
times.  I'm not sure about it, but I think the only times they 
actually came were in the orgy and that contempt scene of the 
Indians and the white woman.  The director has to be careful with 
his men."  She chuckled again.  "They rewrote a scene with one of 
the other girls when her guy popped early.  He was supposed to 
fuck two other girls first."

"I can imagine the difficulties," he remarked dryly.  "Bobbie said 
she saw you."

"She what?  I told them specifically to keep her out of there."

"Well, I think in fact they did.  She looked through the crack of 
the door while they were telling her to get lost and saw you and 
another woman, she said, sucking the same man."

"That was the first scene I was in.  The other girl was sucking 
his balls.  He was the colonel who was supposed to be defending 
the fort.  The Indians broke in and hauled me off to be raped.  
They drove a stake through my mouth and another through my belly."

"They did _what_?"

"Props.  Collapsing stakes with clip-ons for the side view.  That 
surprised me.  I didn't think porn flicks were violent."

"The new wave, I guess.  Were you raped by prop dicks, too?"

"Oh, no, the cocks that put into me were --  Wait a minute.  They 
did have a fake one that they used for the money shots with the 
star."

"A fake dick?"

"For close-ups, complete with balls, belly, hips and thighs, with 
hair patches to match the hair of the actor it replaced.  It was 
mounted on a platform about the right height and had a squeeze 
ball behind the cock to make it ejaculate.  Before you ask, they 
use milk and cornstarch with sugar and vanilla to make it 
palatable.  Oh, and egg whites just stirred in to make it runny."

"Fascinating.  You say that was for the 'star?'"

"Yes, Miss Della Sucre.  She's allergic to semen."

"Allergic to what?"

"That's what Hannah told me.  I think it's simpler than that.  She 
opened wide for one shot and I saw some cavities in her teeth.  
Nowadays it is definitely not advisable to take a stranger's body 
fluids into your mouth if you have bad gums or teeth."  Suddenly 
she sat up.  "That's it!"

"What did you think of?"

"That's why _I_ was the contempt victim!  I wasn't afraid of semen 
in my mouth.  I'll bet you I sucked up more of it today than all 
the rest of them put together."

"You're suggesting that porn stars are getting wary about that?"

"Hannah said that AIDS has killed most of --"

"Pssst!"

They both turned at the sound, apparently emanating from a piece 
of shrubbery at the nearby corner of the building.  A dim figure 
standing behind the bush beckoned for them to approach.

"Wait here," cautioned Paul, getting to his feet.  Approaching the 
bush he recognized Hannah.

She hissed, "Call Jenny, too."

"Over here, Jenny," he said quietly behind him.

The woman led them surreptitiously behind the building to the edge 
of the alley, up which she cautiously peered before turning around 
and handing Jenny a business envelope.  "This is half of what they 
owe you.  You can get the rest when they pass the rushes."

It was a fat envelope.  Jenny smiled widely.  "Well, thanks, 
Hannah!  But what's going on?"

"Cops are in the office, looking at my registry.  Some big Ohio 
dick is with them, showing pictures of you two.  They know you've 
got a juvenile with you, too."

Paul felt a severe chill.  "Wh-what?"

"They had serial numbers on some twenties that was in my last bank 
deposit.  I guess they came from you.  From what the cops said, I 
think they might check on everybody registered with Ohio or 
Michigan tags.  I gotta get back.  You do whatever you think you 
need to."

Paul asked in a strained voice, "How much time will you give us, 
Hannah?"

"Time?  Hell, I don't remember shit about you."  She grinned.  "I 
learned a long time ago not to tell about a perfect dick."  Her 
humor vanished.  "But you'll be lucky if the cops give you ten 
minutes."



NEXT:  Chapter 11: Pleasing Perverts
Varangian:  ludmax11@hotmail.com
Kellis:     kellis@dhp.com

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