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Subject: {ASSM} Uncle Fuzzy's Money - Part One
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Copyright (C) 1998,   Spangles Muldoon.  ALL Rights
Reserved

This story may not be reproduced in any form for
profit, or on another website 
without the written permission of the author.  The
author may be contacted 
by writing mrdouble@mrdouble.com,
mrdouble@airmail.net, 
or mrdouble@ix.netcom.com.


A Resident Author story from MrDouble's archive, 
File: ufm.txt from ufm.zip
http://www.mrdouble.com




"Uncle Fuzzy's Money" Part One
	by Spangles Muldoon

	spanglesmuldoon@yahoo.com

Weasel-like Disclaimer:

	This is a work of fiction. (Probably. Maybe. You
decide.) The author does not condone any of the
practices or actions herein. The author fully realizes
and hopes you understand that many of the actions
depicted in this text are illegal, immoral, unjust,
potentially dangerous, and otherwise not socially
acceptable. The author suggests that if you have
comments about the behavior depicted, you should
remember that this is most likely a work of fiction
and just get over it.

	If you are under eighteen or the legal age wherever
you are, quit reading now and erase this document. If
you are a prude or religious zealot of any kind, you
have my sincerest sympathy. Before flaming me or
trying to convert me to your particular version of
religious mind control, keep in mind that I have been
preached to, for, at, and about more than anyone you
can name. Remember: In order to be a perfect member of
a flock of sheep, one must, above all, be a sheep.

This is an adult text, written for and by adults. It
contains explicit acts with persons under the legal
age of consent, and situations that are blatantly
illegal, certainly immoral, and even downright rude.
Comments about the general content, story idea, plot,
construction, and of course, general criticism are
welcomed and encouraged. Flames will be dealt with
accordingly.

	The basic concept of this manuscript leaves many
options open for additional installments, and
additional installments are indeed currently in work.
If sufficient positive comments are received regarding
this initial posting, additional installments will be
posted as they are completed. Ideas for future
installments are also welcomed and will be considered.
Comments and suggestions can be sent to
spanglesmuldoon@yahoo.com.

	This first installment is a bit slow in the startup,
meaning that the action doesn't begin for a while. It
contains background information that is important to
the understanding of the remainder of the story, so it
is a necessary evil in this case. Bear with me, and
you will be amply rewarded. The author likes stories
with at least some degree of a plot, which is another
reason that this is a bit slow in the start up. It is
also the reason why this manuscript is not non-stop
action like so many of the stories out there. 

	Other works in progress by this author include "My
Own Personal Hell"  (MOPH for short), "American Made",
"Same Tomorrow As Yesterday" (STAY for short), and
"Better Living Through Chemistry" (BLTC for short). 
If you like "Uncle Fuzzy's Money", it is likely that
you will enjoy these as well, even though they are
each in a different vein.

	This is the first installment of "Uncle Fuzzy's
Money". The remaining sections are still in various
stages of construction. If you like this and would
like to see more, let me know and I'll finish it and
post it. The other stories (mentioned above) are still
in work, and are all in various stages of completion.
What happens to those is highly dependant upon the
comments received regarding this test posting.


Section 1: Prologue

	My Uncle Fuzzy was a dreamer and a schemer. His name
was Lee, but he had always been Uncle Fuzzy to
practically everybody who knew him. The problem with
his schemes was that they weren't good ones, and he
wasn't very good at them, but still he tried, and when
one failed he just went on to the next. If nothing
else, he was persistent. Uncle Fuzzy worked full time
in a foundry. I never knew what he did there, I just
know he always came home covered from head to toe in
filth. After work in the evenings and on weekends he
would be hard at work on one get rich quick scheme or
another.

	He worked quite a while making plastic resin grapes
at home and building lamps out of them. He didn't make
enough money to even cover his expenses, and that
failed completely when the fad died out. He worked for
a while on making an electric device that would make
worms come up out of the ground so fishermen wouldn't
have to dig for them. Surprisingly, that failed as
well. He then worked for a while re-filling table
candles for restaurants. That failed. The list went on
and on and on, and that was just the ones I knew
about.

	Uncle Fuzzy's most prized possession was a 1950
Mercury coupe. It was restorable, but not restored. It
stayed in an old shed near the back of his lot, and he
kept it covered with a tarp. I had never heard it run,
and I wasn't too sure it even would. Fact of the
matter, I had never even seen it completely uncovered
or out of the shed. It was one of Uncle Fuzzy's many
"one of these days" projects. The thing was that he
could have probably had it in pristine condition if he
didn't spend all his time and money on get-rich-quick
schemes.

	When I got out of high school, I moved out of the
area. The next time I heard anything about Uncle Fuzzy
was several years later, when I was contacted to come
to the reading of his will. I knew Uncle Fuzzy had
never had much, and that there would probably be
nothing of value come out of it, but since I was in
the will, I went to the reading. 

	I thought about it a lot on the drive to the reading
of the will. Fact is, I almost turned back at one
point, thinking that there would probably be nothing
of value, and even if there was, it would probably go
to one of my cousins. Still, I was curious, so I kept
driving. Besides, I figured that if Uncle Fuzzy
thought enough of me to put me in his will, the least
I could do was show up. I arrived at the lawyer's
office a little early, and spent some time reminiscing
with my cousins. Eventually, the lawyer called us in.

	As I had figured, Uncle Fuzzy didn't leave much. His
schemes had taken their toll, and he was almost a
pauper. Still, there was enough small stuff that the
reading of the will took quite a while. Eventually,
the lawyer got around to me. I figured by that time
that there would certainly be nothing of value left,
but I had forgotten about one item. His last remaining
possession was the Mercury, and he had willed it to
me.

	A few days later, I borrowed a friends pick up truck
and trailer and went to get the car. I used the pickup
to pull the car out of the shed, and once I had it in
daylight, I removed the tarp. It was the first time
the car had been uncovered and in daylight that I knew
of. It really wasn't in too bad a shape, despite the
years of storage, and looked like it could still be
restored fairly easily. I winched it on to the trailer
and took it home, where I put it in my garage. It was
the next day before I started looking at it closer.

	The first thing I did was pop the hood. The engine
looked original, and was surprisingly clean. It had
dirt and cobwebs on it, but it had no traces of oil
leaks. Just for grins, I checked the oil, and found it
clean with no trace of moisture in it. All the tires
were weather checked and flat. The body was in pretty
good shape. No major dents or anything. The paint was
pretty bad. The interior appeared to be original, and
was not in the best of shape. The interior had the
musty old "stored under a tarp in a shed for years"
aroma.

	From my examination so far, it appeared that there
were no major parts missing. It would be a fairly easy
restoration, but it would still take a lot of work.  I
opened the trunk next, and to my surprise found it
almost full of old suitcases. I grabbed the first one
and started to lift it out of the car. It was
surprisingly heavy, but I managed to get it out and
lay it on the garage floor. I started to open it, and
found it was locked with one of those miniature
suitcase padlocks. I busted the lock off easily with a
screwdriver and unzipped the case.

	When I lifted the lid, I found the suitcase was full
to the brim with money. There was bundle after bundle
of twenties, fifties, and hundreds. I picked up a
bundle and leafed through it, amazed at my fortune and
confused about it's source. All sorts of visions
danced through my head, thinking of all the ways I
could spend this. My senses came back, though, as I
remembered that Uncle Fuzzy had been a poor man. Even
an eccentric would have spent enough money to live a
reasonably good life, and I knew that Uncle Fuzzy had
been living like a pauper for most of his life. As I
looked at the money a bit closer, though, the answer
became obvious. It was counterfeit, and not very good
counterfeit at that. Certainly not good enough to pass
more than a glancing examination. Anything more than a
quick look would instantly reveal that it was phony.
The "feel" was pretty good, but the "snap" was not
there. The printing was not as sharp as it should be,
and the color was a bit off. I had been too caught up
in the moment to notice it at first, but now that I
looked at it was pretty obvious.

	In all, there were nine cases of varying sizes, each
full. The quality of the counterfeit in each varied
greatly, from extremely poor to probably passable. I
guess they were the result of several attempts to get
it right. Three large cases of counterfeit would pass
most cursory examinations, but would be detectable
with a detailed examination. Four cases were marginal,
and might pass a quick examination under the right
circumstances. Two cases were a joke, with the quality
so bad that there was no way it would ever pass. I
didn't count any of it, but there was a huge amount.
Obviously, Uncle Fuzzy had been working on this one
for a long time. The question now was what to do next.

	For lack of a better idea, I put it all back in the
cases except for one bundle of reasonably good looking
fifties, which I kept out. I put all the cases back in
the trunk of the car and locked it. This would require
some thought. A lot of thought. I stuck the bundle of
fifties in my jacket pocket and went in the house. I
had a rather restless night, and ended up not sleeping
much at all.

	It was four days later and I still had not decided
what to do. I was driving around town that evening
thinking it over, thinking about all the things I
wanted and needed and about all the money I had. Hell,
it wasn't money. Who was I kidding?  There was no way
I could use it without getting caught. Even the best
of it wasn't good enough to pass a close examination.
It could never be passed in a store or a bank, and
anything more than a quick glance would detect it as
fake.

	The better bills might be passable at night under low
light conditions in situations where it wouldn't be
examined too closely. It couldn't be passed at a
restaurant, bar, or a club, because they were always
on the lookout for phony money and were trained on
what to look for. On top of that, most of them had
detectors of one sort or another. I couldn't make any
purchase that required any kind of I.D. or
registration, because that would be easily traceable.
I came up with the idea that I could read the
classifieds and arrange evening appointments to buy
items of value from individuals, then I could pawn
them for the cash or re-sell them. The problems with
that were that I would be very limited on how many
times I could do that in any particular town. I would
also have to use an ID to pawn anything, and I
wouldn't be able to advertise for sale the things I
bought. Then there was the registration issue. I
couldn't buy any big ticket items like cars because I
would have to register them, and it would take too
many small items to make any money. All in all, not a
good idea.  I couldn't buy things with it, I couldn't
just throw it away, I couldn't turn it in, and I
couldn't get caught with it. I began to understand why
Uncle Fuzzy had just stuck it in the car and left it.
I kept driving, hoping for a revelation.

	As I drove around, I noticed a whore on the street
corner. She was ugly, and certainly not worth the
risk, but the idea did intrigue me. This had
possibilities. Darkness, no I.D. involved, and very
little risk of the money being closely examined. On
the other hand, they did handle a lot of money, and
might notice the different feel and look, even in the
dark. Still, it was an idea. I drove around a bit
longer, hoping to run across a likely candidate. I saw
several, but not one that was worthy of my time. Even
so, there was still the nagging thought that they
might be able to detect a counterfeit (even a pretty
good counterfeit). On top of that, there was the very
real possibility that I might hit on an undercover
policewoman. Hell, that would be all I needed. Not
only busted for soliciting, but also getting caught
with a pocket full of counterfeit fifties. They would
put me so far back in the hole they would have to send
me sunshine through a pipe. As I drove, my mind was in
overdrive. Thoughts kept coming into my head. Things I
had heard all my life, like "All women are basically
whores. You always pay for it, one way or the other".
Then it came to me. I had a plan.

Section 2: Cactus Jack's

	I immediately drove out to Cactus Jack's. Cactus
Jack's was a video game room out on the far west side
of the city. Cactus Jack's wasn't the biggest game
room in the city, or even the best for that matter,
but it's location made it a magnet for teenagers,
particularly on weekend nights. Even though video
games didn't interest me, I went there sometimes,
mainly to enjoy the view. There were usually young
girls there in abundance, even on weeknights.

	As always, Cactus Jack's was crowded. There were as
many people in the parking lot near the building as
there were inside. I parked in the far reaches of the
parking lot where the lights didn't reach, and walked
toward the building. The building was surrounded on
three sides by trees, and it was possible to go only a
few yards into the woods and be completely invisible
from the parking lot or the building. That was one of
the reasons Jack's was popular. The woods were a great
place to slip off and smoke dope or drink between
games at Jacks.

	Teen girls were everywhere. I saw several that
interested me, but I was looking for something
specific. I had to find a girl who interested me, and
who preferably was there alone and in a position that
I could make my pitch without interruption. She also
had to be one that looked like a likely candidate, one
that I felt I could talk to, and one that I could make
a clean get away from if the need arose. I didn't find
anyone who met all those requirements, so I had to
make do. I found a girl near the back of the parking
lot, not far from where I had parked. She was
brunette, kind of drab looking, wore glasses, and
didn't have a spectacular build. Average would be the
descriptive word, I guess. I figured her to be about
sixteen or seventeen. She was not the type who would
ever be homecoming queen or a cheerleader. She had on
a really long, oversized T-shirt with a pocket, tennis
shoes, and loose fitting gray gym shorts. Whatever
build she had was well hidden under the loose
clothing. She was sitting on the trunk of an older
model Sunbird.

	When I got over to her, I started with small talk,
and soon we were chatting away. She told me that she
had come with a couple of friends and that she had run
out of money. One of her friends was inside playing
games, and the other was off in the woods smoking
dope. I had already decided on some sort of a direct
approach, but what I did not know was what kind of
pitch to make. The money comment she made was a great
lead in. It fit into my plan very well, but I was also
unsure about the amount to offer her. If I went too
low, it would probably blow up in my face if she was
put off and didn't try to negotiate for more. On the
other hand, I didn't want to go too high and look
suspicious, but it had to be high enough to get her
interested immediately. I took a shot. I told her that
if it was money she needed, maybe we could make a
deal. She seemed interested, so I continued. Pulling a
number out of the air, I offered her $150 cash to let
me fuck her then and there. She obviously thought I
was kidding, and she laughingly agreed. "Yeah,
right.", she said.

	It was only when I pulled out three of Uncle Fuzzy's
fifties that she realized I was serious, and she began
to back track quickly. She was stuttering and
stammering, trying to come up with something to say.
Before she could come up with an objection, I told her
that I would make it $200. She quit stammering  and
thought about it for a minute, then said okay. I
pulled out another fifty and slipped the $200 into her
T-shirt pocket. She got down from the trunk and
started to get in the car. I stopped her and reminded
her that I had said then and there, and that is what I
had meant. She looked at me quizzically. I told her to
take off her shorts and panties and toss them in the
car, and then to get back up on the trunk. She looked
at me like I was crazy. She then scanned the area and
said that there were a lot of people around, and asked
what if we got caught. I told her that it really
didn't concern me, and that the kick of maybe getting
caught was in part why I had offered her so much
money. 

	Glancing around one more time, she took her shorts
and panties off and laid them on the trunk of the car,
and then hopped back up there herself. Her shirt was
long enough that you really couldn't tell she had
nothing else on. I had her scoot over to the side of
the car and put her feet on the back tire on the
driver's side and move right up to the very edge of
the trunk. This forced her legs open and placed her
pussy at exactly the right height for me to slip in
to. I thought briefly about fingering her pussy and
maybe getting a quick feel of her tits, but I was
running on pure adrenaline at this point. I unzipped
my pants and freed my aching dick and balls, then
moved into position. I guided my dick to her pussy and
probed for her entrance. When I found it, my dick slid
in easily, right up to the balls. She let out a soft,
involuntary moan when I bottomed out inside her. 

	Considering that there had been no foreplay, she was
amazingly wet. Her hole was hot, almost uncomfortably
so, and while it was not tight, it was comfortably
snug. I began to fuck her slowly, making slow,
deliberate, full length strokes.  From a distance, it
would look like we were just talking or maybe making
out some. There was just enough light that I could
look down and watch my dick sliding in and out of her
pussy. I began to fuck her harder and faster, and she
began to look around nervously. The pressure was
building in my balls to the point that I knew I
couldn't hold back much longer. Everything about this
only added to my excitement, getting some under-aged
pussy from a girl who I had never seen before,
outside, in a parking lot with every possibility of
getting caught, and paying for it with counterfeit
money. That, on top of the adrenaline rush, made the
pressure in my balls unbearable. 

	My first shot of come launched into her with
tremendous force, and it was followed by several more,
each one lessening only slightly in force and volume.
When I had finished, I kept my dick inside her for a
moment, enjoying the feel, then pulled it out of her.
She was anxious to get down and get her shorts back
on, so I moved out of her way so she could. While she
got dressed, I put my dick in my pants and fixed my
clothes. I started to leave, and she said that she
didn't even know my name. I told her it didn't matter.
This was going to be a one-time thing, and I would
never see her again. It was only then that she said
"What if you made me pregnant?" "What if I did?", I
responded.  I took one last look at her, then turned
and disappeared into the darkness. As I walked across
the parking lot toward where my car was parked, I saw
her heading toward the door to Jack's. It made me hard
again just knowing that she was carrying a huge load
of my come in her pussy, and that she might even be
pregnant.

	It was the following weekend before I had a chance to
try again. The first time had been a kick, and I spent
the rest of the week thinking about how to do to do it
again, and how to make it work with girls I really
wanted. The first time was great, and it kept me on a
high for days. Still, I wanted to take this to an even
higher level. I came up with several ideas on how,
where, and when to do it. It was still a tedious game,
though, because there were too many things that could
go wrong with even setting it up, and a ton of things
that could go wrong in executing the plans.

Section 3: Can Girl
	
	That weekend, I drove out in the country to an old
salvage yard I knew about to see if I could find an
old Merc I could use for parts to build a street rod
out of the coupe. At that point, I wasn't sure if I
was going to go back stock or build a rod out of it.
It really depended on what parts I could come up with.
In any event, I spent most of Saturday scrounging
around old salvage yards with relatively little
success.

	I left the last salvage yard about two in the
afternoon and headed back toward the city. About a
half-hour outside the city, I left the highway and
went into a Yukon to get something to drink. I stopped
at a combination gas station / convenience store on
what was probably the busiest corner in town. I had
actually planned on going to a Sonic or McDonalds or
something, but the place on the corner caught my
attention.

	The reason it did was because there was a free
carwash (with donations accepted, of course) going on
there. I always made a point to look at those,
although I never had my car washed at one. There was
almost always young, nubile girls wearing skimpy, wet,
clothes or swimsuits at those. That, of course, was
always worth a look. This one was no exception.

	The store itself had at some time in the past been a
gas station, and it had been converted into a
convenience store. They had bricked in where the
garage doors used to be and put in some windows, and
that area made up most of the store. Like most gas
stations, the restrooms were at the end of the
building, and were accessed from outside. I noticed
that both restroom doors were partially open. I parked
at the end of the building, so that I could look out
the windshield and watch the car wash. There were
about a dozen girls there and a couple of older women
who were probably advisors.

	This was one of those all too rare instances where
there was not a dog in the bunch. Granted, there were
some that I would have preferred over some of the
others, but there was not one in the group that I
would have declined. All of the girls were skimpily
dressed, including the ones out by the street holding
signs and yelling at passers by. A few had on bikini
tops and cut off jean shorts. Others had on gym shorts
and tee shirts. Several were wet enough that I could
tell that they were not wearing bras, even though I
was a good distance away. 

	I sat in the car for a moment, enjoying the view, and
thinking about whether I should take the car over and
let them wash it. I didn't want or need it washed, but
it would give me a chance to hang around them and get
a closer look. I decided to go into the store and get
something to drink, which was what I had stopped for
in the first place, then decide when I came out
whether to do the car wash or not.

	I had no sooner stepped out of the car and closed the
door when one of the girls approached me. I was still
keeping an eye on the car wash, so I really didn't see
her when she came up to me from the side. She started
talking as soon as she was close enough for me to hear
her.

	She said they were cheerleaders and pep squad members
trying to raise money to accompany the band to some
sort of combination band camp / spirit camp thing.
While she was talking, I was preoccupied with checking
her out. She had long blonde hair, and it appeared to
be natural. I estimated her to be about sixteen or
seventeen. She was wearing a loose fitting cropped
t-shirt and loose fitting gray gym shorts. She was
built on the small side, but was very firm and
athletic looking. I couldn't tell for certain, but I
was pretty sure she didn't have a bra on. I couldn't
detect any straps through her shirt, but I didn't see
any evidence of nips, either. There was absolutely no
sag to her tits at all, but that could have been
because of her athletic build, small size, and age.
She was a bit on the tall side, probably three or four
inches taller than the other girls in the group. My
dick was hard already. When she had finished her
initial speech, I asked her some specific questions
about the camp to keep her there while I figured out a
plan. I had plenty of Fuzzy money with me, but the
circumstances here were less than Ideal. It would be
risky, but I decided to go for it anyway. When she had
finished answering my questions. I told her that I
would like to help out, but I had no interest in
having my car washed, and that I wasn't the kind of
guy who would make a donation and not receive anything
in return.

	She seemed perplexed by the statement, and just stood
there silently. Throwing caution to the wind, I
continued. "Look," I said, "I'm not a game player, so
let's just get to the point. I'm not interested in
your fundraising cause, but maybe we can work
something out. How about if I were to donate five
hundred dollars to you personally, and you could do
what you wanted with it?" "That would be great," she
replied, "but you said you wouldn't donate money
without getting something in return." "That's right,"
I told her, "are you interested?" "Maybe." She
replied, "I guess it depends on what you want in
return."

	"Surely you can't be that naÔve", I said, "but I'll
spell it out for you. Quite simply, I will give you
five hundred dollars to let me have sex with you right
now. What you do with the money is entirely up to
you." She started to interrupt me, but I stopped her
and continued "I'm going inside to get something to
drink," I continued, "when I come out, I'm going into
the men's restroom. I'll leave the door unlocked
behind me. I'll stay there for three minutes. If you
want to discuss this further, come over and knock on
the door. If you are not there in three minutes, the
deal is off." I didn't wait for her to respond,
choosing instead to walk away and go into the store. I
had not given her a chance to respond.

	I knew at that point that I was fairly safe. After
all, there was only of three things that could happen
next. She could go and report me to an Advisor, and I
could deny the whole thing, since I had made sure
there was no one around to hear what I had told her.
She could ignore the whole thing and just not show up,
or she could show up and go through with it. No matter
which way it went at that point, I figured  I would
come out of it okay.
I purposely took my time in the store, not only buying
something to drink, but staying inside while  I drank
it. I wanted to give her plenty of thinking time. I
watched out the window, but could not see her from my
vantage point. When I went finished my drink and went
outside to make my way around the building to the
restroom, I still didn't see her. The restroom door
was still ajar, as it had been when I arrived. I went
inside and closed the door behind me, making a point
not to lock it.

	The restroom was small, but clean. The sink was in a
small vanity that was just about waist high. There was
a commode against one wall, and a condom machine on
the other. I waited. I figured that if she showed up
at all, she would wait until the last possible moment
to do so. Time seemed to creep by. Two minutes and
forty-five seconds went by before I heard a slight
tapping on the door. I opened the door about halfway,
and she slipped past me into the room. I closed and
locked to door behind me, then turned to face her. I
started to speak, but she began before I could.

	"Look," she said, "I am willing to do this, not for
five hundred. I want a thousand. Second, you have to
wear a condom. I don't want to get pregnant." She
stood there silently, waiting for a reply. I figured
that the deal was pretty much done since she was
negotiating it, and I also figured that she was asking
for more than she would really do it for. As it turned
out, I was right on both counts.

	I replied, "You aren't worth a thousand to me. I can
get a professional all night for that, and there would
be no condoms involved. All I want from you is a
quickie screw. That is certainly not worth a thousand
to me, especially since you want me to wear a condom.
I'll go seven hundred, take it or leave it. Also, it
is pretty important that you understand that the last
thing I want to do is make you pregnant."

	She was silent for a moment, just looking at me. I
used the time to look at her body a bit closer. Her
nips were popped, which indicated to me that she had
at least some interest in going through with this. I
could almost hear the gears turning in her head as she
thought. After what seemed to be an eternity of
silence, she said "Okay. I'll do it, but I want the
cash up front." I dug in my pocket and pulled out a
wad of Fuzzy money. I counted out fourteen of Fuzzy's
fifties, then put the rest back in my pocket. I held
the fifties in my hand without comment. She turned
away from me and slipped three quarters into the
condom machine, and with slightly shaky hands she
turned the knob. She retrieved the package from the
machine slot and turned to hand it to me.	

	I folded the fifties over and slipped them in to the
pocket of her gym shorts as she handed me the condom
package. I moved around behind her, and guided her to
the vanity. I grasped the waistband of her shorts and
slid them down, followed immediately by her panties. I
left them both in a pile around her ankles. I guided
her to bend at the waist, and she grasped each side of
the vanity, moving her legs slightly apart. I stepped
back and opened my pants.

	I could see just a little of her pussy hair, which
was as blonde as her hair. I could see moisture
glistening on her pussy lips, and knew that she was
ready. She was watching me in the mirror, so I made a
show of opening the condom package. I stepped closer
to her before I started to put it on. I turned
slightly so that she could not see what was happening,
then went through the motions of putting the rubber
on. As I turned to do that, I dropped the condom on
the floor and put my foot on it. What she saw looked
like I put it on, but in fact, I hadn't. I stepped
into position, and guided my dick to her waiting pussy
lips.

	I moved the head of my dick up and down her slit
getting the head of it slick with her juices, then
guided it to her entrance. I pressed forward slightly,
and the head of my dick slipped inside her. I paused
for a moment, then pressed forward again, going in
even deeper. She was amazingly tight, even though she
was very wet. I withdrew, leaving only the head of my
dick inside her, then pressed forward again, going
deeper insider her this time. Once more, I withdrew,
and this time I slid inside her up to my balls,
burying my full length inside her waiting pussy. I
began to stroke in and out of her, gaining both speed
and force with each stroke.

I fucked into her steadily from behind, really
enjoying her young, tight, blonde pussy. I fought off
the urge to pound her hard and fast, because I wanted
to enjoy this and make it last. I could feel the
pressure building in my balls, though, and knew that I
couldn't hold back much longer. Inevitably, it came. I
felt my load begin its journey, and I buried my dick
in her up to the hilt. The first load went in to her
like a busted fire hose, and since I was bottomed out
inside her, it pumped directly into the very bottom of
her pussy. When my first shot started to subside, I
began to fuck her hard and fast, planting more and
more seed deep inside her pussy with each stroke. She
could obviously feel my come jetting inside her,
because she began to cuss me and try to get away. She
knew now that the rubber had either broken or I had
somehow taken it off before I slipped into her. She
was pretty well pinned between me and the sink, so her
struggle to get away only increased my climax, causing
me to shoot even more sperm in her cunt.

When my balls were finally empty, I held my dick
inside her as long as I could, acting as a plug to
keep any come from leaking out of her. When I began to
get too soft to stay in her any longer, her movements
were finally enough to make my dick slip out of her. I
stepped back, and began to get dressed. To say that
she was mad would be an understatement. "You bastard
!!"" she said "You promised you wouldn't come in me !!
I don't want to get pregnant!!" "Look," I said "In the
first place, I paid a lot of money to fuck you, and I
want full benefit. I didn't pay you that much to shoot
a load into a rubber. Second, what I said was that the
last thing I wanted to do was make you pregnant. Well,
I just did what I said. The last thing I did was make
you pregnant, just like I said I would."

By this time I had my clothes on, so I opened the door
and walked out. She was still nude from the waist
down. I left the door open behind me, and she was
still cussing me as she slammed it. I got in the car
and left.

Section 4: Zaks

I had gone to college in Weatherford, but it had been
a very long time ago. One of my favorite hangouts
there had always been Zaks. It was a popular hangout
for all the college crowd, and the only decent rock
club within fifty miles. Originally, Zaks had been
upstairs in a motel out near the interstate.
Eventually, they built a Morgan style building down
the road from the motel on old Route 66 and had vastly
expanded the size of the place. The parking lot was
for the most part dirt and gravel, especially in the
back areas. I knew the place would be full of college
girls, so I packed my pocket full of Uncle Fuzzy's
money and went there on a Friday night. I got there
about a half-hour before the band started.

	I didn't get a table. I chose to just wander around
and do my shopping, taking a seat at the bar when I
got tired. My first couple of passes around the room
didn't reveal anything much of interest. What few
girls there were that looked interesting were
inaccessible or unapproachable for one reason or
another. I sat at the bar and had a couple of beers,
then made another cruise of the place. This time it
was more interesting. I saw a table near the back that
had five girls at it. Next to them was a small empty
table. I took the small table so that I could observe
and listen for a bit.

	As was typical with a group of college girls, there
were a couple of real dogs in the group. One girl was
average, one above average, and one was nothing short
of superior. It was obvious that they had been
drinking a lot for quite some time before they
arrived, as they were already getting to the load
boisterous stage. They were putting away pitchers of
beer at an amazing rate of speed. 

Their talk was about everything, rambling from subject
to subject. I had no idea how to approach them, and at
that point wasn't even sure if I wanted to. They
solved that for me, though, when they started talking
about some guy they knew. It got crude pretty fast,
and the above average looking girl eventually made the
comment that she wouldn't fuck him for a thousand
dollars. One of the other girls called her a liar, and
that she would fuck anybody for a thousand dollars.
After a brief silence, the above average girl
laughingly told her that she was right, and that she
would fuck anybody for a thousand dollars. That was my
opening.

	Before the conversation could die down or the subject
could change, I walked over to the above average girl
and counted out a thousand dollars of uncle Fuzzy's
money onto the table in front of her. "I heard what
you said and thought I'd take you up on it. Let's
go.", I said. She looked at me like I was crazy, at
first, and then realized what I was talking about. She
started trying to get out of it, but the other girls
gave her no mercy at all. If she didn't do it, the
other girls would never let her live it down. She
stood up, put the money in her purse without looking
at it, and said "Okay. Let's go." I followed her out
of the club.

	"Let's go to your car, mine is not big enough." I
said. I followed her across the parking lot to a
really ugly old four door LeBaron. This was the first
chance I had to really get a look at her, and even
then it was limited by the lighting in the parking
lot. She appeared to be nineteen or twenty. She was
brunette, and had a nice build. A bit bigger than I
prefer, but probably about right for most guys. She
had on a flannel shirt and blue jeans. 

She opened the car door and got into the back seat,
and I immediately followed. She kicked off her shoes
and took off her pants and panties, saying "Okay,
let's get this over with." She laid back on the seat
and opened her legs, placing one foot on the back
shelf and one on top of the front seat. I opened my
pants and got into position. There was absolutely no
foreplay. I slid my dick into her cunt in three
strokes, and settled into a rhythm immediately. 

She lay there unresponsive, definitely a dead fuck.
Her hole was loose, sloppy, and deep, almost to the
point of having no sensation in it at all. She ranked
very high on the list of the worst fucks I had ever
had. Still, I was determined to empty my nuts in her.
It took a long time, and strangely enough, I was
actually getting bored with fucking her. The lack of
sensation was a real hindrance. After what seemed to
be an eternity of humping her, I began to feel
pressure building in my groin, and although it took a
quite a while, my balls finally began to pump sperm
inside her pussy. I continued humping, shooting more
sperm in her with each thrust, until there was no more
left in me. She had been a lousy fuck, certainly not
worth a thousand, but what the hell, it was bogus
money for a bogus fuck. I hoped that I had made her
pregnant.


Section 5: E-City


It was really sort of a fluke that I ran into them, or
that they ran into me, actually. I was in North
Carolina on a business trip, when one evening I walked
about a block from the hotel to the K-Mart. As I
approached the parking lot, I noticed two teenaged
girls carrying baskets approaching people as they
crossed the parking lot. It looked like they were
trying to sell things out of the baskets.

	The girls looked to be fifteen or sixteen. One was
blonde. Very blonde, in fact. She had long blonde hair
that looked to be 'real'. Her eyebrows were the same
color. Her eyes were ice blue. She was about 5'5" or
so, with a slight build. She was wearing a western
shirt and loose fitting blue jeans. The other girl was
brunette. She seemed to be the older of the two, but
that was just an impression. I never did find out.

	She was about 5'8" or so, and had a short, curly
haircut. Her build was bigger, but appeared to be
proportionate. Her loose fitting sweatshirt and baggy
pants didn't reveal much detail. I guess they noticed
me noticing them, so they came over to me. There was
an assortment of items in the baskets, and the
brunette made the pitch.

	She said that they were selling things trying to
raise enough money to buy a car together. She said
they had found one they wanted, and that with their
savings, they needed $500 more to buy it. All I heard
was opportunity knocking.

	When she finished, I made my pitch. I told them that
there was nothing in their baskets that interested me,
but that maybe we could make a deal for the entire
amount and maybe more. They were interested. 

"Okay, here's the deal. You girls do have something I
want, but it is not in your basket, and it is worth a
good deal more than anything you have in there. At the
rate you are going, it will take you years to get
enough money together to buy a car. I'll make you a
deal to earn it overnight. You could be driving by
noon tomorrow."

	"First, let's talk about the financial side of
things. I'll pay you girls $75 an hour each. It will
be paid in cash. In ten hours, you will have all the
money you need to buy the car. Naturally, for that
kind of money, you have to do quite a bit. Simply,
both of you must do whatever I ask of you for the
entire ten hours. Anything and everything, with no
exceptions. I will get a motel room, and the three of
us will stay there for the entire time. You think it
over, and come let me know. I'll be over there at
Burger King getting a Coke for the next half hour." I
turned and walked away without waiting for a response.

	I went in Burger King and sat where I could see them
out the window but they couldn't see me. I purposely
sat in a back area away from the doors and restrooms
and from everybody else. If they came in, I wanted no
one close enough to listen in.

	I could tell that there was a pretty heated
discussion going on between them, and a lot of very
intent talk. At one point, they walked away for a
while, out of my sight. After a few minutes, I saw the
brunette coming across the parking lot. The blonde was
not with her.

	She came in to the Burger King, and then directly
over to me and sat down in the booth across from me.
She said "My friend Caryn doesn't want to do it. She's
scared, although I am not sure what she is scared of.
I'll do it though, but I want more money."

	I considered her proposal for a moment, then said
"Not good enough. It's both of you or nothing. I will
raise the amount to $100 an hour each, though,
provided you get her to agree." "I'll try" she said.

	She went outside to a phone and made a call. She was
on the line for a long time, and finally came back in.
"Okay. She'll do it for $100 an hour. When and where?"
"I'll go make some arrangements and meet you back here
at 6:00." "Okay," she said, and left. 

	I went down the street a few blocks and got a king
suite at the Comfort Inn using a phony name. I picked
up some box wine, cokes, and snacks from the grocery
store and ordered a large pizza. When it arrived, it
was almost time to go meet them.

	They were right on time, and had not even bothered to
change clothes. They followed me to the motel, where
we slipped in a side door and took the elevator to the
top floor where the suite was. They didn't talk much
on the way.

	Once we got to the suite, the brunette (I still
didn't know her name, and really didn't care to) said
that she wanted proof that I could pay them. She
wanted to see the money. I had anticipated that, so I
had it already counted out and stashed away. I reached
in a drawer and pulled out a huge wad of Uncle Fuzzy's
money. I had purposely used twenties to make it look
like a lot more than it was. I had also used a lot of
the really bad bills. They were mixed in with the
better ones. It was more cash than either one of them
had ever seen before, and they were certainly
impressed. They whispered between themselves for
briefly until I interrupted them.

	"Okay, I showed you the money, now show me what you
have to offer for it. Take off your clothes. You won't
be needing them for about ten hours." I sat on the
edge of the bed and waited. They both began at the
same time, which made it difficult to watch them both.
The brunette was faster, and was soon down to only her
bra and panties. She reached behind and unfastened her
bra, and with a slight shrug of her shoulders, it slid
forward and dropped to the floor. Her tits were on the
big side, bigger than I preferred, and drooped some.
It wouldn't be too many years until she had a real
problem with them. As she bent to take down her
panties, her tits swayed with gravity and pointed
straight down. Her bent over position really
emphasized the size of them. As she stood, kicking off
her panties, my gaze was naturally drawn between her
legs. She had a lot of hair on her pussy, so much that
I couldn't even make out the beginning of her slit.
All in all, her build was not bad, even though it was
a bit on the chunky side. She stood quietly, waiting
for instructions.

	The blonde was much slower. I had the definite
impression that she was still not completely sold on
the idea, but I really didn't care. When she took her
bra off, her small tits remained in position, standing
firm and proud. They were only a little more than a
palm full, which suited me fine. She was truly a
petite, with her waist being a size that I could
probably fit both hands around and almost have my
fingers and thumbs touch. When she started removing
her panties, she had only to start them down and they
dropped to the floor, unlike the brunette who had to
roll them down and kick them off. They both stood in
front of me nude, now. I motioned for them to join me
on the bed, and they did, one on each side. This was a
dream come true. Two teenaged girls at my beck and
call for ten hours. I was hard as a rock.

	The brunette reached down and picked up her purse.
She opened it and took out a box of Trojans and placed
them on the bedside table. I looked at her and said
simply "I'm not going to use those." "What?" she said.
"They weren't part of the deal. I said anything I
want, and you agreed. I don't want to use those." "But
I don't want to take a chance on getting pregnant, and
neither does she." "I really don't care about that.
The deal was for whatever I wanted. You didn't put on
any limits. If you are going to limit it now, then we
have to re-negotiate the deal. First thing, though,
you two had better decide between you what those
limits are going to be, and then I'll make new offer
based on your limits."

	They both got up and went into the bathroom. They
were gone for a long time, and when they came back,
the brunette was again the spokesman. "First," she
said, "you have to wear protection. Neither of us is
on the pill, and we don't want to get pregnant.
Second, there will be no anal. Third, if you want to
go down on either of us, it's okay, but we won't go
down on you."

	"That's an entirely different deal, then." I said.
"Certainly not worth what I am offering to pay. I am
still interested, though, but for a lot less money.
Let's make it simple. I'll give you $250 each to fuck
you each twice, with protection. "They whispered
together quietly, and then agreed, but only one of
them at a time would be in the bed. The other would
wait in the bathroom. I agreed. They whispered
together some more, and the brunette left for the
bathroom. The blonde came over and lied down on the
bed.

	I moved up next to her and started exploring her
body. Her pussy was already wet, and I was more than
hard enough. I opened the box of Trojans and took one
out, then opened the package. I opened my pants next,
and went through the motions of putting the rubber on.
In the process, I made sure to puncture the end of it
with my fingernails, basically ripping the end out of
it. She had not looked down at all, and did not see
what I was doing. 

When I moved into position on top of her, she reached
down to guide my dick to her entrance. I think she did
that only to ensure that I had a rubber on. She let go
as soon as contact was made, and never noticed that
there was no end in the rubber. It took me a few
strokes to get inside her. I began to fuck in and out
of her slowly at first, but gained speed gradually. I
could feel the rubber rolling back on my dick as I
fucked her, moving further with each stroke until it
had made its way into a roll at the base of my dick,
acting as a cock ring. 

My dick was almost completely uncovered as I fucked
her. I knew she could feel the rubber bunched up on
the base of my dick, but I guess she thought nothing
of it. I continued to pound into her, and I could feel
the pressure building in my balls. I knew I would come
soon, and since the rubber was acting as a cock ring
restricting my come, I knew it would be a huge load
when it shot into her. The pressure eventually built
to the point that even the rolled up rubber couldn't
hold it back.  I buried my dick in her to the hilt,
placing the head of my dick against very bottom of her
pussy. I held it there while my dick exploded my come
inside her. I spray painted her insides, pumping my
load directly into her.

 	Shot after shot went into her, and after the first
few had gone, I began to fuck her again, keeping the
pump going. Each time my dick bottomed out in her
pussy, it planted more of my seed inside her. She
began to panic, because she could feel my flood going
inside her. She was saying "Stop! Stop! The rubber
broke! You're shooting inside me!". I kept up my pace
until I had no more come left to shoot in her, until
my balls were completely drained. I lay on top of her,
letting my dick soak in the mixture of our juices. I
stayed in her until my dick was too soft to remain
inside. I wondered if I had any sperm left for the
brunette. The blonde was not happy at all, but I
reminded her that she had agreed to twice.

The blonde and the brunette traded places in the
bathroom. I guess they talked it over while they were
both in there, because when the brunette came out, she
stroked my dick with her hand until it got hard, and
then put the rubber on me herself, checking it closely
once she was done. I was lying on my back, and she
straddled me. She gently rocked her pussy against my
dick, making it even harder than it already was. She
tried to guide it inside her, but I kept changing my
position ever so slightly to keep her from getting it
in her. Finally, I reached between us and guided it
myself, ripping the end out of the rubber as I did.
This time, it split down the length, and my dick
slipped inside her bareback on the first stroke. She
didn't notice.

She began to bounce up and down on my dick, doing all
the work, and even though I had just drained my supply
in Caryn, I shot a small but very satisfying load deep
inside her pussy. I had the impression that she didn't
feel it, even though it felt pretty strong to me. She
kept humping through my come, and didn't stop until
she felt my dick begin to get soft inside her. She got
off me and only then saw that I had a small pool of
come on my belly where it had leaked out of her pussy.
It was then that she realized that the rubber had
broken. "Shit." was all she said. "Shit."

	Both girls were pissed at that point, but I really
didn't care. The brunette said that since I had broken
my word I should pay them and call it even. I said no,
because they had agreed to twice each, and in the
second place, I had worn the rubbers as they
requested. The fact that they broke was not my
concern, my fault, or my problem. On top of that, they
had provided the rubbers, not me. I had no control
over the quality of them. They had insisted that I use
them, and I had. The fact that they had not held up
was not my fault. I told them they could call it off
and leave if they wanted, but that if they did, they
would not be paid. They went to the bathroom together
and talked it over for a while. 

	When they came back, they had not bothered to dress,
so I figured they had come up with some sort of plan.
I was surprised at what it was. As had been the
routine, the brunette did all the talking, and the
blonde just nodded in agreement. She said "We want you
to pay us the full amount right now, and we want to
call off the rest of the deal." "Why would I do that"
I asked. "Simple," she replied, "because if you don't,
I'll pick up the phone, call the police, and tell them
that you raped us." While this could be a problem, it
caught me as amazingly funny, and I decided to play it
that way. "Yeah, right!" I said, "and you're going to
tell them what? Let's seeÖyou could say I forced both
of you to walk four blocks through city streets in
broad daylight, with no weapon, into one of the bigger
hotels in town, through the hallways, up the elevator
and into a room, where I then forced you both the
strip. Then I fucked each of you using rubbers that
you brought with you while the other one waited in the
bathroom. I'm sure the police will buy that. I think
they would much more likely believe that you are both
prostitutes that I hired. I'd get a fine of $35 or so
for soliciting, and you two would both go to jail. No
matter which of us they would believe, are you ready
for that to be on the front page of the newspaper and
on the six o'clock news? " They started getting
dressed and so did I.

I paused for them to comment, and when there was none,
I continued. "You made a deal, and now you want out of
it. Okay. Here's your out.' I counted out two hundred
dollars of Fuzzy Money and tossed it on the bed,
ìHere's your pay, now take it and get the hell out.'
The brunette picked it up and counted it, then said
ìThis is only two hundred. That is not what you agreed
to.' ìYou're right,' I responded, ìbut you didn't do
what you agreed to, either. I could have hired pros
for half that. Be glad you got that.' 

The brunette was furious. ìYou haven't heard the last
of this.' She said as she stormed out of the room. The
blonde was hot on her heels. I called after her ìI
think I haveÖ'. I watched out the window for them to
leave the building, and watched as they walked across
the parking lot. I had no idea what she had in mind,
nor did I really care. Still, it wasn't too wise to
stay there, so I left the room, slipped out the side
door, and got in my rental car and left, heading back
to Norfolk. I was on a plane home in about three
hours.

Section 6: McD


I got into the habit of always carrying some of Uncle
Fuzzy's money with me, no matter where I was going.
There were a couple of instances when I had
opportunities come up but either didn't have any of it
with me or not enough to pull off what I wanted to do,
so I made a habit of carrying some all the time.
Usually, though, when I had some with me, the
opportunities never came up. In this particular case,
though, it did.

	I had popped into McDonalds to get a quick bite to
eat. I went to the back near the restrooms and got a
table. It wasn't long before a couple of employees
came back and sat at the table next to me. They were
both girls, both about sixteen or seventeen. One was a
real dog. No doubt about it. The other was not bad,
but not spectacular. She was not some one I would have
made any effort for. Her features weren't that great,
she was a little on the chubby side, and her hair was
really mousey.

	I minded my own business and listened to them talk.
They were talking about their checks and comparing
notes. Neither one was happy with the hours they had
or the amount of their checks. The better looking of
the two said that she didn't have enough to even make
her car payment, let alone get through the next week.
After a few minutes of this, the dog got up and went
into the women's rest room. I turned to the other girl
and said "I couldn't help overhearing your discussion.
Maybe I can help. I may have something you can do to
earn some money, if you are interested." "I might be
interested" she said, "Depends on what it is and how
much money is in it."

	"Well," I said, "It will take you between a half hour
and forty five minutes, and it can earn you,
hmmmm......., let's say $200." "You're kidding," she
said "Who do I have to kill?" "Nobody," I responded,
"All you have to do is slip off into the restroom with
me and let me fuck you a couple of times. That's it.
That's all."  "You're kidding, right?"she said. "No,
not at all." I responded. "All you have to do is go
with me into the men's room right now and let me fuck
you, for which you will get $200 in cash. No strings
attached."

	She thought about it for a few minutes, and then said
ìI don't know. What if we get caught? What if I get
fired?' ìOkay,' I said, ìI'll make it $500. If you get
fired, that should be about what you would make in a
month. If you don't get fired, it will be a nice
bonus. About getting caught, well, that is a major
portion of the kick.' ìWhat if I get pregnant??' ìWhat
if?', I said. ìIf you do get pregnant, just pick out
the guy of your choice and fuck him a couple of times,
then tell him it's his baby.'

	I was pretty sure I had her, but she was still
thinking it over. It didn't take long, though, before
she agreed to do it. I went to the men's room first
and made sure no one was in there. I opened the door
and motioned for her to come in. When she did, I
pointed her to the stall in the back and followed her
in, closing and locking the stall door behind us. I
could tell that she was very nervous about the whole
thing, but I knew a way to get her over that. I
reached into my pocket and pulled out a wad of Uncle
Fuzzy's money. She watched in awe as I rolled off a
batch of twenties, counting out $500 and putting the
rest of the roll back in my pocket.

	Just to be on the safe side, I had made it a habit to
never let them get a close look at the money or touch
it when I was with them. I was pretty sure that it
would pass a quick look, but I didn't want to take the
chance. I walked over to her and slipped the bills
into her front pants pocket. ìWhat now?' she said. 

	ìTake off your pants and panties', I said, ìLet me
see what I am getting.' When she had them off, she
stood before me in her McDonalds work shirt, tennis
shoes, and socks. I took a long look at her pussy,
then stepped closer to her and placed my hand between
her legs. She was very hot, and I could already feel
the moisture leaking out of her. I thought for a
moment of slipping a finger inside her, then decided
not to. Instead, I moved my hand away and changed
positions with her, so that I was facing the door with
my back to the commode and she was facing me. Once
that was done, I dropped my own pants. She seemed to
pay a lot of attention to my already hard dick, and I
think I heard her catch her breath when she saw it.

	I sat on the commode with my pants around my ankles.
I looked up at her and said, simply, ìOkay. Fuck me.
Make me come in your pussy.' She didn't hesitate. She
stepped forward and straddled me, placing one foot on
either side of the commode. She bent her knees and
lowered herself to my lap, pausing when she felt my
hard dick brush against her inner thigh. She paused
for a moment, obviously waiting for me to guide my
dick to her hole. When it became apparent to her that
I wasn't going to, she reached between us and grasped
my dick, placing it at the entrance to her pussy and
lowering her self further down until the head of my
dick had slipped inside her. She took her hand away
and slowly lowered herself further, placing more and
more of my dick inside her pussy. She was very hot,
wet, and tight. I was about half way inside her when
she heard the restroom door open. She froze when she
heard it. Momentarily, we both heard the splash in the
urinal, and she remained motionless.

 	I placed my hands on her hips and forcefully pulled
her down onto my dick, burying it in her up to the
hilt. It was unexpected, and it took her breath away.
She bit her lip to keep from moaning. I lifted her
slightly, then dropped her onto my dick again, then
repeated it. When we heard the urinal flush, she
picked up the rhythm herself, and began to ride my
dick. In a couple of strokes, she was into it to the
point that she didn't hear the water splash in the
sink or the door open and close again. She was riding
me to the best of her ability, and doing a very good
job of it. I could feel the pressure building in my
balls already, but I held back. I wanted her to really
have to work to make me come, and she was indeed doing
that. I also knew that holding back would increase my
load dramatically when I did come.

	Unfortunately, I couldn't hold back. The combination
of her fucking me while she was wearing a McDonalds
uniform in a McDonald's men's room, combined with her
tight pussy and the excellent job she was doing riding
me, was too much. I felt my load begin its journey
through my dick, and the first shot went inside her
hard. She never missed a beat, and shot followed shot
deep inside her waiting pussy, until there was no more
left to put in her. Still, she continued, milking
every drop and more out of me as she began her own
climax. I could feel her pussy rippling on my dick,
convulsing and relaxing as she climaxed. She moaned
loudly, unable to stop it. When she had finished, she
remained in position with my dick softening inside her
pussy. When she had caught her breath, she got up and
stood in front of me. I could see a few drops of sperm
on her pussy hair around her hole, which made my dick
start to stiffen again. ìThat was fantastic.' I said.
ìThanks.' came the reply. 


Section 7: Latina

	Partly because I got very busy and partly because I
had a gut feeling to lay low for a while, I went for
over a month without using any of Uncle Fuzzy's money.
I had even gotten out of the habit of carrying a large
quantity of it with me. I did keep three fifties in
the secret pocket of my wallet, though. I figured that
it was always possible that something could come up,
and I knew I would be furious with myself if I missed
a prime opportunity. I also figured that with only
three fifties I could claim ignorance if I was caught,
saying that I had gotten it in change somewhere. I
couldn't do that with a large stack.

	I had long made it a habit to go to the travel show
each spring at the Arlington Convention Center. I had
managed to get caught up enough at work to be able to
go, and I went on a Sunday afternoon. The convention
center was only about five years old. At the time it
was being built, I was broke, unemployed, and
desperate. I had managed to get a cash job doing
construction clean up inside the building in the weeks
before the grand opening ceremonies. Because of that,
I knew the building well, including all the little
nooks, crannies, equipment rooms, and back rooms that
the general public would never see or know about. I
was walking around the travel show when I saw her.

	She was a Latina, which was not at all uncommon for
the part of the country. She had obviously come to the
travel show after church, as she was very well
dressed. Her makeup was impeccable, and her jewelry
was costume, but not overbearing at all. Just exactly
right. I see a lot of Latinas in my day to day
travels, and, in my opinion, there seems to be no
ìmiddle ground' with them. They are either gorgeous or
they are not.  The ones that are gorgeous are almost
always breathtaking, and the ones that are not, well,
they're not. This one was gorgeous.

	She was petite, which as you should know by now, is
just my type.  She had dark brunette hair with dark
smoldering eyes. She appeared from my estimations to
be about five feet five or so, and not much over a
hundred pounds. My calibrated eye estimated 32-23-34
or thereabouts. She was alone, or at least seemed to
be. Her age was difficult to estimate. Her features
indicated that she was on the young side, but her
demeanor, dress, and makeup made her look older. Her
petite size compounded the problem of estimating her
age. My best guess at the time was that she was
somewhere between sixteen and eighteen.

There was no question of if I was going to approach
her or not. I knew that I had to, even though it was
extremely risky in a place that crowded and confined.
I really had no plan in mind about how to do it.
Still, she was very interesting to me, so I decided to
go for it. I followed her around the travel show for a
while, observing her from a distance and waiting for
an opportunity. It was a long time coming.

	It must have been over an hour later when a local
band began to play on stage, and she went over to the
chairs set up for the audience and sat down to listen.
She sat on the back row, well away from everyone else
and near the end. I took the end seat in the same row,
a couple of seats down from her. I was still trying to
figure out how to break the ice when she did it for
me.

	She asked me how I liked the band, and said that this
was the closest thing to a concert she ever got to go
to because tickets were so expensive. It was a perfect
lead in. We chatted back and forth for a while, and I
took the opportunity to move to the seat next to her,
telling her it was so I could hear her better over the
band.  We continued to talk, and it seemed that almost
everything she talked about was centered on money, or
at least her lack of it. I was pretty sure  I had a
chance, but was still concerned about making her an
offer in such a public place. After several minutes of
building my courage, I made my pitch.

	ìLook,' I said, ìIt's obvious that you are very broke
and very tired of it. Maybe I can help.' Then I took a
huge gamble and jumped in with both feet.. I told her
point blank that I would give her a hundred and fifty
dollars in cash to let me fuck her just once. She
looked at me like I was crazy, blushed a little, then
turned away, saying "I'm not that kind of girl, and if
I was that kind of girl, that would not be enough
money."

	I sat there silently for a moment, as did she. She
made a point of not looking at me. I was in a tight
situation here. The response she gave, while negative,
was not exactly a flat no, and the fact that she had
not slapped me or left when she said it also seemed to
leave some room for negotiation. The problem was that
all I had was three of Uncle Fuzzy's fifties. While I
would have gladly offered her more, the simple fact
was that I didn't have any more to offer. I needed
another approach, and I needed one quickly, but since
I didn't have one, all I could do was wing it.

	I spoke to her again. "Look, maybe I was wrong. I
thought you were the kind of girl who would like to
make some money quickly and easily, and if you're not,
then I apologize for the implication. Second, I know I
am not offering a great deal of money, and I certainly
agree that you are worth substantially more. In fact,
I would be willing to pay a lot more if the
circumstances were different. If we were talking about
you spending the night with me, then it would be ten
times what I offered. If we were going out to the car
and doing it in the backseat, it would be easily
triple. The thing is, though, that what I am offering
is an exceptional amount for what I am asking. Since
all I am asking for is a stand up quickie in a back
room, where you don't even have to take off your
panties, it is only worth one fifty. If we do that and
it goes well, we can discuss some other options if
you'd like. Think it over, and if you decide you want
to do it, come find me. I'll be walking around." 

Without waiting for a response, I got up and walked
away. It was a gamble, but then again it wasn't. All I
had was all I had, and there could be no negotiation.
She would either accept or not, and it was her call.
If she didn't, well, nothing lost. I was determined
that I was not going to look back as I walked away,
but it was very hard not to. Still, I managed not to
look, and just kept walking. I had gone about thirty
feet when I heard her coming up behind me.

"Wait," she said, "Let's talk". I stopped and waited
for her to make the remaining steps to catch up to me.
When she got closer, she continued "I want the money,"
she said, "and I'd like to talk about those other
options as well, but I don't want to get pregnant."
She stood there silently, waiting for a response from
me. I said "I understand that, but I don't have a
condom, and I seriously doubt that I could get one
here at the travel show." She was silent for a moment,
wrestling with the dilemma. She obviously wanted the
money, but she had a real concern about pregnancy.
After an interminably long silence, she said "Will you
pull it out before you finish? Will you make sure you
don't get any sperm inside me?" I smiled slightly, and
fell back on a line that had worked before, "The last
thing I want to do is get you pregnant". That
statement seemed to satisfy her, even though I had not
agreed to her requests. She seemed not to notice that
I had not agreed, and obviously didn't catch the
double meaning of what I had said. "Okay," she said,
"Let's do it." Now the immediate problem became where.

	I led her to the back of the hall, and started
looking for the door to an equipment room that I
remembered being there. I scanned the back wall, and
didn't see the entrance, although I knew it was there.
About half way down the back wall, there was a tour
bus parked behind the booth for a tour bus operator. I
figured the door had to be behind the bus, as I didn't
see it anywhere else along the wall. I led her over to
the bus, and slipped in behind it. The bus was close
to the wall, but I could see the door now. I led her
to it, hoping it was unlocked. Luck was with me,
because for whatever reason, it was. The position of
the bus didn't allow me to open the door all the way,
but I got it open enough to slip in. I found the light
switch near the door, turned on the light, and closed
the door behind us.

	The room was as I had remembered it. It was small,
about eight feet square. There was a huge cabinet type
transformer box on one wall, and on the other wall was
a smaller boxy one. The smaller one was the ideal
height for what I had in mind. I led her over to it,
and turned her so that her back was to it. It was that
that point she stopped me and asked for the money,
which I quickly took out of my wallet. I fanned it out
so she could see it, then folded it and placed it
directly into the pocket of her skirt, never letting
her touch it, and only allowing her a quick glance at
it. I placed my hands on her waist and picked her up,
sitting her on the edge of the smaller transformer. As
I had suspected, the height seemed ideal.

	My dick was already uncomfortably hard and being
restrained inside my jeans made it almost painful. I
knew I had to get it out soon, as the pain was getting
pretty bad. I raised her skirt as high as I could,
then placed on of my hands on each of her knees and
moved them apart. I was surprised to see cotton
panties. This would be something new for me. I could
clearly see that the crotch was slightly damp. I moved
the crotch of her panties aside, and when I did it
released a whiff of wet pussy smell. It made my dick
throb that much more. 

I used my fingers to feel her pussy, spending some
time massaging her clit, then moving lower to her hole
and slipping a finger inside. I finger fucked her a
little bit, but could not detect a hymen. Her pussy
was a tight fit for my finger, and I was wondering if
she would be able to take all of my dick. I could feel
her pussy convulsing on my finger, massaging it, and I
knew that if she kept that up with my dick in her, I
would shoot in her almost immediately

Her pussy was very young looking. Yeah, I know that is
a strange statement to make, but what I mean is that I
couldn't see any pussy hair (either there was none, or
it was very fine or trimmed so that I couldn't see
it), and she had no visible pussy lips. There was only
a slit. That's what I mean by young looking. The
tightness of it led me to the same conclusion. The way
she was gripping my finger meant that if she had ever
been fucked before, it couldn't have been more than
once or twice.

I moved my hands away from her pussy and opened my
jeans, finally relieving the confined dick. I got my
dick and balls out into the open, and she made a point
not to look down to see them. I stepped closer to her
and guided the head of my dick to her entrance. It
took a couple of stabs to get the head of my dick
inside her, and when I did, she constricted her pussy,
stopping my advance and actually pushing me out of her
a little bit. I paused for a moment, and when  I felt
her relax her pussy, I pushed forward again, this time
slipping half of my dick in her. Again she contracted
her pussy, and the feeling was exquisite.

Apparently, the transformer she was sitting on was
getting hot, and she began to move around a little,
shifting her weight from side to side. That only
intensified the feelings she was putting on my dick. I
pulled almost completely out of her, then pushed back
inside. This time, I bottomed out in her pussy, and
she gave a moan. Although I was bottomed out in her,
my balls were still not against her pussy. I couldn't
tell exactly how much of my dick was still outside
her, but I knew that my balls weren't touching her. I
pulled almost completely out of her again, then
started to fuck in and out of her, slowly and easily.

I kept going slow, although it was extremely hard to
do. She kept the little pussy convulsions going,
massaging my dick with each stroke. I wasn't sure that
it was a voluntary action on her part, but it sure
felt wonderful. The pressure in my balls was intense,
and I was almost forced to fuck her harder and faster.
I was going even deeper inside her now, but my balls
were still not hitting her, so she had not taken the
full length yet. It was only the fact that my balls
were not bouncing off her that kept me from coming
immediately.

My first shot went into her involuntarily. I was
trying to hold back, but the pressure became too
great, and I shot into her even though I was trying my
best not to. Once the first shot had gone inside her,
there was no holding back. Shot followed shot inside
her, flooding her insides and soaking her pussy. I
continued to fuck her, sending more sperm inside her
with each stroke. It was so intense that my knees were
actually getting wobbly, and I wasn't sure I could
remain standing.

When I had completely emptied my balls, I pulled out
of her and she put her panties back in place. I was
physically weak from the strength of the climax. ìThat
was wonderful.', I said. She didn't comment at first,
and thought she was going to say something about me
filling her pussy with sperm but then she said ìOkay.
Can we talk about an all night arrangement now? I like
getting paid for that.' I guess she didn't realize
that I had shot my load in her, but she would have to
be pretty naÔve to not know it.

I had a dilemma now. I certainly wanted to do an all
nighter with her, but there was no way I could let her
out of my sight between now and then if it was going
to work. If I made an arrangement to meet her for an
overnight then let her out of my sight, I was at great
risk. If she tried to spend any of the money before
she met me, I would be in a lot of trouble and
traceable. If I could keep her with me, it might work,
but I had no more Fuzzy money with me. That meant I
had to go home first, and there was no way in hell I
could take her with me. Damn, damn, and double damn.
She was a great piece of pussy, and the prospect of an
all nighter with her was tempting, but there was just
no way I could arrange it under the circumstances. I
had her give me her phone number and told her I would
call her that evening to arrange something, even
though I knew there was no way I could.
	

Section 8: Chldr

	There were a lot of things I always wanted to do, and
Uncle Fuzzy had given me the means to do a lot of
them. Like many guys, I had always wanted to do a high
school or junior high cheerleader in uniform,
preferably a blonde. Not being the jock type, and not
being aggressive in school, the chance never came up.
Little did I know that was about to change.

I went into a mall in Tulsa about six weeks before
Christmas. It was a mall that was a little off the
beaten track, and that didn't really have a huge
amount of business. The Christmas rush really had not
started yet, so it was pretty deserted for a mall.

I had gone there to eat at a buffet that I went to
occasionally. After I ate, I usually made a trip
through the mall. Partly, it was to let my food
digest, but it was more of a sightseeing trip than
anything else. To be honest, a girl watching
expedition. As I wandered around, there were the usual
amount of mall-ers, but not really anything of real
interest. That is, of course, until I got down near
Penny's. There, sitting at a card table on a folding
chair right in the middle of the entrance to Penny's
was a blonde girl in a cheerleader uniform. She looked
to be between fifteen and seventeen, but it was hard
to tell. The table was covered, so all I could see was
from her mid chest on up. I couldn't really tell much
about her build from where I was.

I waited until she was busy with a woman before I went
closer. My plan was to pass her and go into Penny's,
taking a closer look as I went by, then, if it looked
promising, to stop and listen to her pitch on the way
out. That's why I waited until she was occupied with
someone else.

My pass by her was quick, but I gained a lot of
information. She appeared to be a real blonde, at
least based on her light complexion and the fact that
the color of her eyebrows matched that of her hair
perfectly. A closer look at her uniform told me that
she went to a local high school,  that her name was
Tami, and that she was a sophomore. That placed her
age at sixteen or seventeen. The way her uniform was
made and her sitting position at the table didn't give
me much clue as to her build. She was definitely on
the petite side, though, weighing maybe 110 pounds or
so. Her build was small, but appeared athletic,
probably from all the cheerleader stuff. From what I
could tell, her build was somewhat like a gymnast. Not
big, but firm. I did catch a glimpse of her legs
between the hem of her skirt and her knee, and they
were well formed. Muscular, but not excessive. All in
all, definitely worth pursuing.

I wandered around in the store for a little while,
never moving out of sight of the front door so I could
keep an eye on the girl. The woman was there with her
for what seemed to be an eternity. Finally, she left,
and the girl was alone again. I casually wandered back
toward the entrance. I was thinking about how to make
this approach. I really didn't want to spend a lot of
time making chit chat with her, and I really didn't
care to hear all about whatever it was she was doing
there, but I didn't want to blow the chance, either. I
decided on a direct approach again, but this time even
more direct than I had ever done before.

She opened her mouth to speak to me when she noticed
me approaching, but I didn't let her get a word out.
Before she could, I started my little speech "Whatever
it is that you are selling or raising money for does
not interest me in the slightest, but let me tell you
what does. I'll give you a thousand dollars in cash if
you'll let me have sex with you right now. We can slip
outside to your car, hop in the back seat, and screw,
and in half an hour or so, you'll be a thousand
dollars richer." 

She was completely taken off guard, and it took her
what seemed to be a long time for it to soak in and
for her to respond. She was flabbergasted, and when
she did respond, all she said was " I can't do that.
I'm a virgin."  Without missing a beat, I said simply
"In that case, I'll make it two thousand."  The
silence was longer this time. A lot longer. I was at
the point of leaving when she said  "Okay" and got up.
I followed her to the exit door of the mall and across
the parking lot. I could tell she was nervous. She
hadn't even asked to see the money.

She was parked in the very back of the mall lot, which
suited me fine. There were a few cars around, just
enough to make it interesting, but not enough to
concern me too much. I followed her over to a blue
Taurus and waited while she unlocked the doors. She
got directly in to the back seat, and I followed her,
closing the door behind me. Once inside, I moved over
next to her and put my arm around her. Only then did
she speak again. " I want to see the money before you
do anything." "Okay" I replied. I dug into my jacket
pocket and pulled out a wad of Fuzzy money. I made a
big show out of counting out two thousand dollars in
Uncle Fuzzy' s twenties (using the really bad ones
since it was dark out). I tossed them into the front
seat without letting her get a look at them. 

I leaned toward her and kissed her full and hard on
the lips. At first, there was no response, but as the
kiss went on, she started to react a little. I put my
hand at the bottom of her blouse and slid it directly
underneath, moving it higher until I had my hand on
her bra. Her tit was a slightly overflowing palmful,
and I massaged it through her bra. I could feel her
nipple popping up, even through her bra. I tried to
get my hand inside her bra and onto bare tit, but
there was just not enough room. I started to make an
effort to get my hand inside, but that really wasn't
the reason I was there. I was there for pussy, not for
tit. I moved my hand away and dropped it to the hem of
her skirt, then slid my hand underneath it. She opened
her legs slightly as my hand went higher to give me
some access. She stiffened noticeably when my hand
reached her crotch.

I didn't hesitate once there. I moved the crotch of
her cheerleader shorts aside and gained access to her
silk panties. I moved them aside immediately, and
began to probe for her opening with my finger. It was
very wet, which surprised me. I finger fucked her
slowly, using my thumb to massage her clit. My dick
was painfully hard, so I used my free hand to open my
pants and get out my dick and balls. I was more than
ready to fuck her, and she seemed wet enough, so I
moved into position on top of her. Once there, I
opened my pants and took out my dick and balls. She
shifted her position to give me better access. I
guided my dick to her opening, and with some
difficulty, managed to get just the head of my dick
inside her pussy lips. I began a mini fuck of her,
gaining a little bit more depth with each stroke. I
was soon half way inside her, and had no sense of
breaking a cherry on my way in. I began to fuck her a
little harder and faster, and soon had my full length
buried deep inside her. Once fully inside, I paused,
enjoying the feeling of her young, blonde, cheerleader
pussy.

I pulled almost completely out of her, leaving only
the head inside, then slipped back in slowly. I began
a slow, leisurely fuck, in and out of her. Her pussy
was wonderful. It was tight, but not overly so. It had
the feeling of damp velvet lining, and was really
putting some tremendous feelings on my dick. I was
unsure if I could hold back long enough to even enjoy
the fuck, but I was determined to do so.

I fucked her a lot longer than I thought I could, but
soon there was no stopping the flood. I had held back
as long as I possibly could, and when my first shot
went inside her, it was literally an explosion. A
tidal wave of sperm flooded her pussy, followed by
several smaller shots, each lessening in intensity,
until my balls were empty. She had been a surprisingly
good fuck. I laid in position on top of her, letting
my dick soak in her juices until it became too soft to
stay inside her any longer. When my dick came out of
her, I got off of her and we both sat up. She busied
herself putting her panties back in place and
rearranging her cheerleader outfit. When I had my
clothes back in place, I looked at her and said ìThat
was worth every penny.' I got out of the car and
headed back to the mall without another word. I
glanced back once, and saw her getting out of the
backseat and into the front seat. Probably to count
the money. I picked up my pace a little and
disappeared into the nearest mall door.


Section 9: Stone Pony

I have never been one to hang out in so-called
"Gentlemen's Clubs". There are several reasons for
that, each of which I give pretty much equal weight.
First, I make it a practice to never go anywhere that
has a cover charge just to get in the door. I just
cannot bring myself to pay someone so I can go into
their place of business and spend my money. I am just
not going to pay for the privelege of spending money.
There is something inherrantly wrong with that
concept. Second, I have a problem with paying eight
dollars for a glass of draught beer. Not that I am
particularly cheap, but it irks me to be gouged for
something just for the sake of being gouged for it,
and paying for the privelege on top of that. Third, I
dislike the noise and the smokey atmosphere, and for
the most part I don't care for the music they choose
to 'dance' to. If you care to call it dancing, of
course.

	Probably the most unusual reason is that I don't care
for the women who work there. Let me elaborate on that
a little. In general, their attitude is a bad one, and
they are driven by nothing more than greed. More
importantly, I don't care for the heavily made-up
look, I don't like tattoos or piercings, and more and
more of them seem to have them these days, and I also
don't like the build most of them have. I have never
been one who thought silicone and liposuction looked
anything but artificial, and the Barbie doll figure
never really worked for me. There are other reasons,
too, of course, but I think you get the general idea.

	

	Sheer boredom sometimes wins out over preferences,
and that was the situation that found me in a
"Gentlemen's Club" in Oklahoma City. It was the middle
of the afternoon on a hot summer day, and I had been
out riding motorcycle. I was hot and thirsty, and
stopped off at the Stone Pony, a dive sort of place
not too far from the fairgrounds, to get a beer or
two. Since it was mid afternoon, there was no cover
charge. Beer was still on the expensive side, but not
as much as I have paid in similar places.

	

	As they usually are, this place was dark, and it was
cool inside. It took a couple of minutes for my eyes
to adjust to the darkenss so I could see. It was a
typical mens club, with a bar along one wall, several
stages placed strategically around the room, and
tables and chairs in no particular pattern. Since it
was mid afternoon, the place was near deserted, with
only a half dozen guys sitting around sipping beer.
There was only one stage in use at the moment, and it
was occupied by an all too plastic blonde who was
definitely a product of chemistry. Not my type at all.


	There was a balcony across the back of the place with
one set of stairs leading up there. I couldn't see all
the way to the back of the balcony, but I could see
enough to know that there were pool tables and pinball
machines up there, and at least one stage.  The stairs
leading up there were blocked off by a velvet rope at
the bottom. I made my way to the bar and ordered a
beer, which I paid way too much for.  I then made my
way to a table that was close enough to the stage to
be able to see, but far enough away to not be
obtrusive and to not gather too much attention. I was
really not in the mood to be bothered by 'dancers' who
wanted to sit with me so I could buy them extremely
overpriced drinks that didn't even have alcohol in
them.


		The blonde on stage was going through a series of
sort of gymnastic type moves, but even that didn't
impress me. Her biggest feat in my opinion was being
able to stand up with all that silicone in front of
her. I swear that if she were to fall down, she not
only would not hit her face, but she would bounce back
up from the springiness of the silicone. She really
looked deformed to me, but the guys near the front row
seemed to love it, and kept a steady supply of dollar
bills in her garter.


		When the blonde had finished her set, she went over
and sat with the guys who had been giving her money.
The next 'dancer' was a black girl, who also held
absolutely no interest for me. Her build was on the
thin side, which is normally the way I like it, but in
this case, it was to an extreme. Too thin. Way too
thin. unhealthy looking, in fact. On top of that, she
wasn't the least bit attractive, at least to me. I
ordered another beer spent the time she was on stage
alternating between watching the guys at the other
table buy over priced drinks for the blonde and
watching portions of some baseball game that was on
television. I was pretty much bored, and had decided
that I would leave as soon as I finished my beer. The
noise was beginning to get to me anyway. I didn't
particularly care for the type of music they were
playing, and it was way, way too loud.

		When the black girl finished her set, she
disappeared through a door into a back room.  For
whatever reason, it was several minutes before the
next 'dancer' appeared. She was introduced as
'Mercedes' before she came out, so I was not sure what
to expect. I knew it had to be a stage name, but
still.....

		When she came out, I must admit to being impressed.
She was really an attractive woman. She was brunette,
and looked to be in her late teens or early twenties.
She was dressed in a long, flowing dress, and I could
tell that her build was pretty much the way I liked. I
knew I would be seeing more momentarily, so I would
know for sure. Her make up was very well done, again,
unusual for this type of establishment.

		She didn't reveal anything during her first set,
just some tease and little more. She was actually
dancing to the music, and not just making motions. She
went backstage briefly between songs, and came back
wearing a thong, high heels, and a tank top. Partly on
a whim, and partly because I wanted to get a closer
look at her, I got up and walked to the stage to slip
a dollar in her garter. She danced over to me and
kneeled down, allowing me to place the money. Then she
rose and danced away. I went back to the table. She
was really a pretty girl, and her build was very nice.
I figured her to be about eighteen after I had seen
her up close. The downside was that she had a small
tattoo on her shoulder that I hadn't noticed from the
table, and her navel was pierced with a small diamond
stud, both things that tend to be a turnoff for me.

		She went backstage between songs again, and
reappeared this time wearing only a thong and high
heels. Her breasts were beautiful, very firm and
without a trace of sag. Their size was almost ideal,
at least according to my particular taste. I had
finished my beer by this time, and was well on the way
to finishing another one. I knew that this would be
her last time onstage for a while, because the big
blonde and the black girl would be back in rotation. I
knew I had to get a close up look of her with her top
off, and the only way I could really justify doing
that was to slip her another dollar. I also figured
that she would end up at my table if I kept slipping
her money when no one else was.

	I made my way to the stage and waited for her to
dance over to me and kneel down.  Her breasts were
even more perfect up close, and she waited more or
less patiently while I looked at them. I reached into
my pocket and grabbed two bills, then slipped them
into her garter without looking at them. My attention
was definitly elsewhere. She got up and danced her way
back aross the stage, and I made my way back to the
table. I was almost back to the table when a thought
struck me like a bolt of lightening. Paniced, I
reached into my pocket. SHIT! I had given her money
from the wrong pocket. I sat at he table and took
quick stock of my situation. I had given her two fifty
dollar bills of Fuzzy money! I had been carrying a
couple of fifties and a couple of hundreds with me
just in case a situation came up where I could use
them, and I had them in my front pocket. I was keeping
my 'real' money in my other front pocket. I had no
intention of using any Fuzzy money there. I figured it
was too risky. Shit.

		I thought about leaving before she got off stage,
because I was certain she would catch the fact that it
was phony money as soon as she looked at it. At about
the same instant, though, the song ended, and
'Mercedes' disappeared backstage. I hesitated for a
moment, trying to decide whether to leave or stay. I
decided to finish my beer and see what happened. I
figured I could always plead ignorance. The big blonde
took the stage again.

	

	It was only a couple of minutes before I saw Mercedes
come out of a backstage door and start in my
direction. She didn't look pissed, so I figured I was
safe so far. She was  wearing a very short, red mini
dress that was form fitting. She obviously had on no
bra, and I could see the lines of her thong. She had
probably never been tipped that much before, and no
doubt had me figured for some sort of high roller,
even though I wasn't exactly dressed for the part.

	

	She came to the table and sat down next to me without
even asking. "Hi," she said, "I'm Mercedes. Thanks for
the tip." "Quite all right." I told her. "How about if
we keep this real? Is your name REALLY Mercedes?"
"Well....no," she said, "actually, it's Linda." "Okay,
Linda," I replied, "I like that a LOT better than
Mercedes."

	

	"You know," she began, "That's the biggest tip I ever
received from anybody. Granted, I haven't been doing
this for a long time, so it really means a lot to me.
Some of the older girls here tell me they never get
that much." "Well, I guess you could say that you are
more my type than they are." I said.

 

	"Anyway," she continued, "You ought to at least get a
special table dance for that kind of tip. I have a
while before I go on again. Follow me." She got up and
made her way to the stairs where she unhooked the
velvet rope and motioned me past her. She followed and
hooked the rope in place behind her, then passed me on
the stairs heading to the top. I followed. I glanced
around the room to see if anyone had noticed, and was
surprised that no one had seemed to.

	Upstairs was about what I had figured it to be when I
saw it from downstairs. A couple of pool tables, some
video games, a few tables, and two stages. I had only
been able to see one of them from downstairs, so I
knew that the back half of this area was out of the
line of sight of anyone downstairs. The entire area
was pretty dark anyway. I followed her to the back of
the area, where she motioned toward a chair and told
me to have a seat. I complied. She stood in front of
me and began moving and swaying to the music, getting
more and more active as she did. She was really a
pretty good dancer. As she danced, she unfastened and
then dropped the mini dress she had on, leaving only
her thong. She danced sensuously, and moved closer,
rubbing against me as I sat there. I took full
advantage of the situation, rubbing and feeling
whenever I had the opportunity. Her breasts were every
bit as firm as I had imagined.

		I turned my attentions away from her for a moment,
just long enough to dig into my pocket and grab one of
Fuzzy's hundreds. As she danced closer, I slipped it
into the band of her thong, and said "A dance like
that deserves a good tip." She danced away a little,
just far enough to get into the light enough to see
what I had given her. She glanced at the corner and
saw the hundred on it, and danced back to me
immediately. She wiggled and kneeled at the same time,
ending up in a kneeling position in front of me. She
reached for my zipper and slid it down, then fished
around inside and released my painfully hard member.
Once it was out, she stroked it a couple of times
gently, then moved her head closer to it and began to
lick it full length. I almost came on the spot. She
concentrated on the head for a moment, then slowly
began to take it into her mouth, using one slow,
gentle move down until the entire thing was engulfed
and he nose was buried in my pubic hair. She paused
there for a moment, then began some tongue action the
likes of which I have never experienced before or
since. I almost lost it, but managed to hold back. She
began to slowly bob her head up and down, all the
while keeping her tongue going. Gradually, she built
up speed, and it took every ounce of will power I had
to keep from exploding.

	

	I thought about blasting my load into her mouth, but
I figured that the longer I managed to hold it, the
more intense it would be. I had almost reached the
point of no return, the point where willpower or
anything else could not hold it back. That was when
she stopped. "You have tremendous staying power," she
said, "I can usually bring guys off that way pretty
easily before I give out, but it looks like you are
going to need a little extra."

	She stood and turned her back to me, then casually
sat down on my lap. She moved her thong out of the
way, lifted her hips, then guided my dick to her
entrance while sitting back down. She impaled herself
on my dick. She really wasn't all that tight, but I
was already too far gone for that to matter. She began
to bounce up and down on my dick, thrusting it in and
out of her with each bounce. There was no way I could
hold back, even if I had wanted to. My come blasted
into her with tremendous force. It went into her in
one, huge shot, not in several smaller shots as I
usually did. It was followed by a couple of small
shots, but the initial one had been so intense that
the ones that followed were hardly worth mentioning.
She continued to bounce on my lap until I was too soft
to remain inside her, then stood and turned to face
me. "How as that for a lap dance?" she asked.
"Tremendous...." was all I could say.

	

	She put her thong back in place then put her mini
dress back on. "I have to get back downstairs," she
said, "I'm on stage next." I fixed my clothes and
followed her back downstairs. Again, no one seemed to
notice as she removed and replaced the velvet rope.
She looked over her shoulder at me and said "This one
is for you." She made her way back to the stage, and I
took a table closer to the stage.

	

	She danced the first song in her mini dress, then
dropped it for the second song. As she danced around
the stage wearing only her thong and high heels, I
noticed that the inside of her thighs were shiny, and
had little droplets on them. I guess everyone who
noticed it thought it was just sweat, but I knew full
well what it was. She was leaking. When she went
backstage to get ready for her third song, I figured
it was time to leave. I didn't want to push it, and I
really had little if anything to say to her if she
came to my table after the next dance. I slipped out
the door while she was off stage and left. I never
went back.

....More to come in Uncle Fuzzy's Money Part Deux...

		


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