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From: Rufus Fugit <rufusfugit@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Jenny's Couch, part 19 (Fg, M+g [described], ped, semi-cons, mast, humil, exhib) by Rufus Fugit
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Date: Thu, 03 May 2007 04:10:02 -0400
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<1st attachment, "Jenny's Couch19.txt" begin>

This is an erotic story featuring adults and children.  If you don't want
to read such a thing, don't.  If it's illegal for you to read it whoever
and wherever you are, I don't really care.  Don't read it, or don't get
caught.  Either way, that's your problem.

   This is my story.  It may be freely distributed and reposted to free
sites, or the free areas of pay sites, so long as authorship is properly
credited and these introductory paragraphs are included.  If you can find
someone silly enough to pay you for this story and you steal it for that
purpose, well, mazel tov and fuck you.

   This story is F-I-C-T-I-O-N.  No actual children or adults or anything
were involved in its production.  What part of "made up" don't you
understand?  Intelligent feedback gratefully accepted at rufusfugit at
yahoo dot com.  Stupid feedback and flames to /dev/null.

   This and other stories available at
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/rufusfugit.

   Jenny's Couch, part 19 (Fg, M+g [described], ped, semi-cons, mast,
humil, exhib) by Rufus Fugit

   I was reclining on a sling chair halfway up the beach, watching Karen
and Renee play in the water.  A half-built sandcastle was to my left,
awaiting the return of the children's interest.  I was wearing board
shorts, a floppy stupid tourist hat, and wraparound sunglasses.  The
subtropical sun was hot on my chest and shoulders.  Sweat prickled my chest
hair.

   Renee shrieked and fell backwards into the surf as her older sister
splashed her.  The nine-year-old was wearing a navy blue tankini, modestly
cut to her mother's specifications.  Jenny abhorred the trend towards
"junior slutwear" as she put it, and insisted that her girls dress
appropriately for their ages.  Renee's bare legs flew up in the air as her
head submerged, the sunlight glinting off her wet, tan skin.  She bounced
back up like a sexy little otter as water streamed off her face and upper
body.  She shook her head, laughing, and her two waist-length brown braids
whipped back and forth, splashing Karen.

   The older girl threw up her hands to shield herself, laughing in turn.
Even though her complexion was normally paler than Renee's she took the sun
much more easily and the dark golden tone of her thin limbs made a striking
contrast with her sky-blue one-piece suit.  It was also cut modestly low at
the thighs, though her recent growth spurt made it perhaps just a bit tight
in the crotch and accentuated the delightful nubbins of her growing
titties. Her light hair was in a thick single braid, and she wore some
silly-looking swim goggles to protect her sensitive eyes from the salt
water.

   I was enjoying my beach vacation tremendously, but it had become clear
that Jenny and Rob had not invited me entirely out of altruism or
gratitude. It had been nearly twenty years since they'd had a holiday
without one or more children in tow.  Now that they had me here my role as
an unpaid babysitter had emerged.  Not that I minded.  The two of them were
up in the condo, enjoying another late-morning nap, nudge-nudge wink-wink.
Those were some pretty energetic naps they took, to the point where after
the first couple of days I'd suggested that the girls and I go play on the
beach so we wouldn't, ah, disturb them.  Jenny had agreed absolutely
deadpan that it was true, the kids could be kind of noisy, giving me some
insight into where her youngest daughter got that perfect poker face.  Rob,
on the other hand, had actually blushed.

   I watched the girls frolic in the water.  They looked like two happy,
normal kids.  For the last few days I had acted as their uncle, nothing
more.  Without the intrusion of my adult sexuality they had both recaptured
their childhood innocence to some extent.  True, I could tell Renee still
felt the physical and emotional effects from when I had violently sodomized
her three days ago.  She still wasn't sitting completely comfortably,
tending to put her weight on one butt cheek or the other or rock from side
to side.  Fortunately, that didn't look any different to Jenny and Rob than
her normal fidgeting.  Her emotional reaction was puzzling to me.  Back
when I was in third grade if some adult drugged me and fucked my ass so
hard that I couldn't sit straight for days, no matter how great the drugs
made me feel and no matter how strong of an orgasm I had, I would've been
leery of him afterwards.  But Renee had stuck to me like glue since that
morning, sitting on my lap whenever she could, holding my hand when we went
out and in general clinging to me.  What Jenny and Rob saw was a childish
crush.  Rob had even gently teased his youngest daughter once or twice
about having a boyfriend.  As near as I could guess Renee's feelings, he
was more right than he knew, except if Renee had been inclined to confide
in anyone she would have used the word "lover" instead.

   I watched Karen dive into the waves, her slim form cutting gracefully
through the clear blue water.  Except for brutally fucking her in the
truckstop parking lot on the trip down, I had left her alone as well.  For
one thing, there was no need to further push the child.  Her proud
revelation during the trip that for the first time she had prostituted
herself without my assistance had been a proud moment for me, too: my
little whore was growing up.  I was still concerned about her lingering
guilt and feeling out-of-control but in the first place the fifth-grader
seemed to be getting better at compartmentalizing her feelings - as
evidenced by her unforced and unfeigned enjoyment of normal childhood
activities while continuing her compulsive nightly masturbation.  In the
second place, there was nothing I could do about it - until today.

   The gentle riptide had carried Karen and Renee a few dozen yards down
the beach to my left before they realized it.  "Here they come," I said as
the two little girls joined hands and came running out of the surf and up
the beach, laughing and shouting and spraying fine white sand behind their
bare feet as they ran.  They came to a sudden stop on the other side of our
half-built sand castle when they realized I wasn't alone.  Reclining on the
lounger next to me was a tall, thin young woman.  Her sun-streaked,
light-brown curly hair was cut to frame a heart-shaped face.  She was
wearing a lot of eye makeup and bright red lipstick, which was perhaps a
bit incongruous with her white, short-sleeved men's shirt worn open over a
bright red bikini.  Her finger- and toenails were painted to match her
swimsuit, which in turn matched the piping on the mat-woven flip-flops that
dangled from her toes where her ankles hung over the edge of her chair. 
She looked at the children with frank hunger as they stared back at her
uncertainly.  Karen's grip on her little sister's hand tightened
unconsciously and she shifted her weight from one thin, bare foot to the
other as the woman smiled at her, lips parting to reveal white, uneven
teeth with prominent canines.

   "Girls, this is Moira," I spoke up.  "She's an old friend of mine from
back home, and it turns out she goes to college near here.  She was just
walking by and I saw her.  Isn't that a nice surprise?" The girls just
stared at her silently.  There was something unsettling about Moira's gaze.
I sympathized; I had been unsettled, too, when I'd first met her, and she'd
been barely more than a child then herself.  Renee's round bare belly was
still heaving from running up the beach.  Her free hand stole up to her
chin; had she been a bit younger she would've been sucking her thumb. 
"Come sit with us," I said, to break the odd tension.  "C'mon," I insisted,
motioning with my hands.  Renee sat down in my lap on the chair but there
was no room for Karen.  She had to go sit next to Moira who sat up and
politely patted the lounger next to her.

   "Hello, girls," Moira said.  Her voice was a throaty contralto, slightly
roughened by cigarettes.  "It's very nice to meet you.  You're uncle's been
telling me that you're both very special little girls.  I think he's a very
special man, too.  I was only a little bit older than you are, Karen, when
we first met, and we got to be really good friends."

   Renee was sitting up straight in profile to me.  Her legs were out to
the side, knees bent over my thigh, toes just brushing the sand as she
kicked them idly.  I could see the wheels turning in her head for about two
seconds before she spoke right up.  "Did you fuck?"

   "Renee!" I exclaimed, but Moira's peal of delighted laughter overrode
me.

   "No, honey, not right away.  Your uncle was a gentleman - or a coward,
maybe - and he waited until I grew up before we got together that way.  But
I hear he didn't wait with you.  How do you like taking it up the ass?"

   My breath caught in my throat and my cock pulsed beneath Renee's weight
at the sudden raw turn the conversation had taken.  Moira knew what turned
me on, and as a result of her own history she found it especially
titillating to engage young children in dirty talk.

   Renee, however, wasn't fazed.  I had sexualized the nine-year-old to the
point where it was a perfectly normal topic of conversation and a perfectly
normal activity as well.  She had figured out right away that Moira was in
on our secret so the words came tumbling out of her.  "It hurts, but I have
really good orgasms, especially with that stinky stuff, but after it hurts
a lot.  But the more I do it, the less it'll hurt.  Some blood came out of
my butthole the last time," she finished.

   "Yes, you were a very brave girl," I said, stroking her bare lower back.
Turning to Moira, I continued, "When she saw blood in her panties she
didn't cry and she didn't tell.  She just took 'em off and snuck 'em to me.
I'm proud of having such a smart little lover." Renee's expression didn't
change but I could tell she was pleased with my praise.

   Karen, though, looked slightly aghast.  She'd known nothing of this
until now.  She opened her mouth to speak, but Moira forestalled her.  "And
just look at you, young woman!  Aren't you just the cutest little whore!"

   Karen's face froze in shock with her mouth hanging open.  Whatever she
had been about to say died in her throat.  A sense of dread had uncoiled in
her stomach as soon as Moira had said I'd been telling her about them, and
now sadness welled up as she realized that even on vacation there was no
escape from what she now believed God had ordained for her.  Her eyes moved
up, looking over our heads to the condo atop the dune.  Perhaps she was
thinking of all the past happy times spent here with her family, every year
of her young life.  For a fleeting second there was such a look of
inexpressible longing in her eyes that I almost wanted to call off my plan.
Almost - but I had discussed it all with Moira ahead of time and anyway
there was no way to undo the past four months.  I'd turned Karen into a
preteen prostitute, and now I had to make it possible for her to live with
it.

   "Hey, don't look so glum, kiddo," Moira leaned forward and put her hand
on Karen's shoulder.  "You know," she said, lowering her voice to a
confidential tone, "I'm a whore, too."

   Now she had Karen's attention.  The child's eyes widened in surprise. 
"You are?"

   "Yep.  My daddy made me a whore when I was seven.  Hey, look at this."
And with no further preamble Moira reached down and pulled the crotch of
her bikini bottoms to the side, exposing her fresh young pussy to the
fifth-grader.  She had a nice bush of fine, light-brown hair.  The
wrinkled, pinkish-brown flesh of the right inner lip lapped over the left
one and the slight bulge of her clitoral hood was prominent at the top. 
There were three small hearts in a vertical line tattooed down each side of
her firm, plump vulva.

   That was typical Moira.  Her upbringing had left her with little sense
of boundaries or appropriate behavior, which was what had doomed our own
relationship.  Her family had joined the dojo where I trained when she was
thirteen.  When her father had disappeared under mysterious circumstances a
year later I'd kept her on, gratis.  It wasn't until three years later that
we got briefly involved, and a year after that she finally told me her
story.  She still had a lot of conflicted feelings about her father but she
was very mentally tough.  I admired that toughness; it made it possible for
her to live with a history that would have destroyed many girls.  It also
made her volatile and even dangerous if you hit one of her triggers.  I
knew that a young girl in Karen's situation would be irresistible to her.

   Karen was gaping at the first spread adult vagina she'd ever seen. 
Fortunately her body blocked the view of the many people playing and
passing by further down the beach, but her scalp prickled in sympathetic
fear and nervousness at the public exposure.  Her mind was whirling with
questions and emotions.  Being a whore was Karen's private shame; at the
same time being sexy and desireable was a source of private pride, but
above all it was private.  She'd never imagined meeting someone else who
admitted to it, certainly not a beautiful, grown-up woman.  And Moira was
beautiful.  Even in the harsh sunlight her skin was flawless.  Her eyes
were bright green and tilted slightly, her boobs sat perky and high on her
chest, her abdomen was tight and toned though I could see college life had
put a few pounds on it, and her spread thighs were muscular.  She had no
tan lines; her crotch was the same honey-gold as the rest of her skin.

   "You like my whore cunt, Karen?" Moira's voice was light and honeyed
with a trace of the south Alabama accent of her childhood.  Karen managed a
nod, her eyes darting back and forth from Moira's face to her crotch.  "You
know how many cocks have been stuck in it?" Karen shook her head.

   "Well, me neither!" Moira erupted in a caw of laughter.  "That's the
best part of being a whore, you don't got to worry about stuff like keeping
count.  You see a nice boy or someone has the cash, you just go for it. 
See?"

   Karen found her voice.  "How...how did you become a whore when you were
seven?  That's younger than Renee."

   Moira's eyes narrowed and she leaned forward.  "You askin' me a personal
question?"

   Karen blinked at the sudden hard edge in the young woman's voice. 
"No...I...sorry, I..."

   "'S'okay.  I'll tell ya, but I'm a whore like you are, and that means I
don't give nothing away.  You wanna ask me questions, you gotta do
something for me." Karen's hands were clenched nervously in her lap.  Moira
reached out and grabbed her right hand, tugging it loose from the other,
and pulled it towards her.  Karen leaned forward, then had to scoot towards
the bikini-clad woman to keep her balance.  Moira pressed the
eleven-year-old's hand against her exposed privates.

   Karen jumped and tried to pull back, but Moira's grip was firm.  She
felt coarse hair and warm flesh under her fingers.  "That's it, Karen,"
Moira said, pressing the child's hand against her labia.  "You play with my
cunt and I'll answer your questions."

   Karen was stunned.  She had touched her little sister's cunny before,
but Renee's smooth, tight little slit felt entirely different from this. 
Besides, she had been the aggressor then, or at least acting so at my
insistence.  She was used to submitting to my sexual demands, but not a
woman's.  But at Moira's continued urging she pressed her fingertips
against the woman's cunt.  Moira grunted softly as Karen parted her inner
lips to reveal the moist, pink interior.  "Yeahh," Moira sighed.

   Karen's mouth pursed in concentration but her eyes darted around wildly.
Her shoulders twitched from the awareness of the crowded beach behind her,
all oblivious to a fifth-grader masturbating an adult woman just steps
away. The hot sun beat down on her head.  A faint salt breeze stirred her
hair and cooled her as it dried the seawater beading her skin.  "Mmm, yeah,
now stick your fingers in me," Moira continued; then more sharply, "Do it,
whore, do it now!" She fumbled for the right spot for a few seconds, trying
to navigate the more convoluted labia of a mature woman, then Moira gasped
and her toes curled as two of the child's fingers pressed into her with a
sticky, sliding sound.

   This was the first time Karen had penetrated a vagina besides her own
and hers was still childishly shallow, so she was surprised when both
fingers slid smoothly into Moira right up to the hilt.  The woman's cunt
was hot and it felt looser than her own, and as her thumb pressed up
against the swelling clitoris she could feel a pulse beating in it.  She
jumped when Moira grabbed her wrist and pulled back.  "More fingers!" Moira
commanded her.  "Put four fingers in me, whore!"

   Karen's eyes flashed at the contempt she heard in Moira's voice.  "My
name is Karen...OW!" Karen jerked back as Moira's other hand lashed out and
slapped her across the face.  She tried to pull her wrist away but the
woman's grip was unbreakable.  She squeezed down and tears welled up in
Karen's eyes as she felt the delicate bones grate against each other.

   "I don't give a shit what your name is." In a flash, Moira's face had
transformed into a mask of fury.  She leaned forward until they were almost
nose-to-nose, her eyes burning.  "You got your hand up my cunt, you're
nothin' but a whore, and a whore does what she's told.  Now, you make me
cum and cum hard or I'll beat you to fuckin' death right here on the
beach!"

   "You're hurting," Karen whined from the pain in her wrist.  Fear closed
her throat, almost choking her.  Moira had seemed so nice until out of
nowhere she got so mad.  Desperate to appease her Karen shoved her hand
forwards, all four fingers thrusting clumsily into the woman's hot cunt. 
Still squeezing hard on the child's thin wrist Moira started yanking
forward and back, treating her hand like a dildo.  She hissed in pleasure
and sat back in the chair as Karen's slimed fingers went in and out, in and
out between her inner lips.

   Renee's eyes were as big as saucers and she was twisting the end of one
of her braids in agitation.  She wanted to jump in and defend her big
sister as she had in the past but something about Moira was just too
intimidating.  "Hey Moira," I spoke up to distract her from her anger. 
"Renee and I have a song we sing to Karen sometimes.  Want to hear it?"
Without waiting for an answer I started the familiar sing-song chant.  I
nudged the child in my lap and her voice joined mine, weakly at first. 
"Karen is a who-ore, a whory whory who-ore, Karen is a who-ore..."

   Karen's ears burned from humiliation as the familiar doggerel swirled
around her.  Her ears were flaming red, the tears gathered in her eyes
spilled over and ran down her sun-kissed cheeks, but to her growing horror
the butterflies of fear in her tummy were turning into butterflies of
arousal as the familiar hot, slippery feeling bloomed in her lubricating
vagina.  She found herself hunching her preteen cunny against the vinyl
netting.  "Oh, God, not here, not now," she begged silently, but to no
avail.  She arched her back without thought, trying to get some friction
from the spandex bathing suit against her swelling clitoris.

   Sounds of conversation and children laughing came from behind her,
uncomfortably close over the constant background sussurus of the ocean. 
She dared not turn around but her eyes drifted upwards, to the windows of
the condo.  They were opaque with glare but she imagined her mommy and
daddy looking down at her.  In her mind's eye she saw them gasping in
horror at the sight of her hand pumping in and out of a stranger's pussy.
She felt both a crushing shame at the thought but also a strange relief,
relief that one way or another it would all be over.  She saw her mommy
charging down the stairs, but there her imagination failed.  Would she
attack Moira, drive her away, hug her daughter tight, save her and protect
her and love her?  Or would she be furious with Karen, be disgusted with
her, order her to leave, never see her daddy and mommy and Renee again,
scream at her for being such a filthy whore?  Karen's breath hitched and a
perverse spike of pleasure shot up from her babycunt at the thought.  She
groaned, closed her eyes, and ground herself harder against the chair.

   Moira gasped, and then her chuckle cut through Karen's turmoil of
arousal and misery.  She looked up to see that the woman's angry expression
had melted into wry amusement and little jolts of pleasure as Karen's
fingers continued plunging in and out of her cunt.  "Yup, you're a whore
all right," Moira said to her almost fondly.  As quickly as that, her rage
was gone.  A strange, half-familiar scent, pungent, almost bitter, reached
Karen's nose and she realized she was smelling Moira's sex juices, the
juices that squished out audibly around her fingers, She blushed harder and
rotated her girlish hips.  Moira held up a hand to silence Renee and me. 
"So, when I was seven or so my daddy caught me diddling myself, and he
talked to me about it, told me how pretty I looked and shit like that.  He
said he was so proud of me, he wanted to show off how smart and pretty his
little girl was.  So he had some of his friends over and I sat on the couch
and spread my legs and gave them a little show.  What did I know?  It felt
good, plus they gave me candy'n'shit." Her speech was interspersed with
little "oh"s and "ah"s as Karen continued to masturbate her.  Her gaping
outer labia were getting slick with her creamy secretions.  The rows of
tattooed hearts shone in the sunlight.

   "And he brought me along from there, you know?  He started touching me
and teaching me how to touch him.  I remember one party, I musta been about
eight, eight and a half, he had me strip down and lie on the kitchen table
and then him and his friends, they all touched me and rubbed me all over.
They just kept doin' that and it kept feeling better and better.  I think
that's the first time I really came, and I musta 'bout a dozen times before
they let me alone.

   "After that there was no stoppin' me.  Daddy wanted me to do anything,
all he had to say was 'I'll kiss your cooter' and I'd do it.  I think I was
nine the first time he fucked me.  A lotta girls say it hurts the first
time but it didn't bother me none; I'd already had fingers and hot dogs and
Sharpies and god-knows-what-all up there.  But after I got good and used to
having a dick in me, that's when Daddy explained about how I could make
money.  For a long time I was too little to go out on my own, but Daddy had
plenty of friends.  And they had friends.  And by the time my titties
started growing I'd figured out how to find guys on my own...oh!  Oh,
yeah!" Moira's eyes closed and her face screwed up.  Her feet came up off
the sand, spreading her cunt open wider to Karen's pumping hand.  "Oh,
that's good, oh yeah, oh yeah, come on, come on, harder you fuckin' whore,
faster, oh yeah, YEAH!  YEAH!  YEAH!"

   Karen squealed as the muscles in Moira's cunt clamped down on her
fingers so hard they were crushed and bent together.  It hurt!  I looked on
in bemusement as Moira's spasms tensed her abdomen and a hard six-pack
emerged from beneath the layer of womanly fat.  Her cuntlips twitched
around Karen's hand, enveloping and squeezing like an anaconda trying to
swallow an alligator.  Dollops of pungent cream oozed out, forming a thick
white froth around Karen's palm and wrist and matting in her bush.

   "Yeahhh..." Moira sighed one last time and sagged back against the
chair, her legs relaxing and falling wide open.  "Nice job," she said with
her eyes still closed.  "Yeah, your uncle's right, you're a hot little
piece of ass.  And so pretty, too.  God sure knew what he was doing when he
made you a whore." Karen flinched as if Moira had struck her again.  She
was used to being praised for doing sex stuff and had even started to enjoy
hearing it, she so craved any praise from adults.  What hurt was the
reminder that God had done this to her, that He was the one who gave her a
burning hot babycunt she couldn't control, a babycunt that even here out on
the public beach was twitching and leaking from arousal.

   Moira's voice broke into her sad musings again.  "You can take your hand
out of my snatch anytime, whore." Moira gasped, then chuckled as Karen sat
back abruptly and her hand slid free of Moira's cunt with an audible
squishing sound.  Karen spread her hand, working out the ache and staring
at the sticky strands webbing her fingers.  She looked around, clearly at a
loss what to do.

   I shifted in my seat, feeling Renee's warm little butt rocking against
my iron-hard erection.  I had almost cum in sympathy with Moira, watching
her bend Karen to her will.  I grabbed one of the towels folded on the sand
next to me and tossed it at the older child.  She caught it automatically
with her greasy, sex-slimed hand.  Meanwhile, I was gently caressing
Renee's back and shoulders.  "Were you scared a minute ago?" She nodded
silently, twisting the end of one braid in her hand.  "It's ok.  Remember
how Karen likes it when you're pretend-mean to her?  Moira scared her, but
that made her horny, see?" I pointed.

   It was obvious I was right.  Karen's swimsuit had dried while she'd been
sitting here in the hot sun, but there was a dark patch staining the
spandex at her crotch.  More than that, there were shiny drops of cream
oozing out around the seam at her inner thighs.  Renee covered her mouth
with both hands to smother her giggles.  "Look, Karen's cunny is leaking!
Look at the whore!  Look at the horny, horny whore!"

   "That's enough, Renee," I put a restraining hand on the younger girl's
shoulder.  "Karen can't help that her babycunt gets so juicy." For her
part, Karen's face was flaming red, but she made no move to cover up or
close her legs.  She knew it was no use and would only lead to further
embarrassment.  Instead, she leaned back and rubbed two fingers against the
center of the slippery fabric.  She groaned as her clitoris responded to
the pressure.  "Is your babycunt hot, Karen?" I asked.

   "Uh-huh." Karen knew what was expected of her so she continued, "My
babycunt's burning up.  I want...I want...oh, please, will you fuck my
whore babycunt?  Pleeease..." Her voice trailed off in a moan and her hips
started to thrust against her own hand.

   It was, all too quickly, too much for me.  With Renee's warm
nine-year-old ass pressing down on my erection, hearing her eleven-year-old
sister beg me to fuck her tight little babycunt, I lost it.  Despite the
hot sun beating down on me, I shuddered as without so much as a single
stroke or touch, I ejaculated into my swim trunks.  I grunted and pushed
against Renee's butt with each spurt.  The third-grader sat forward,
twisting her head around to look at the twitching lump in my pants.  Her
thick brown braids fell forward as she bent closer.  Her little hand came
down and squeezed at the spreading stain around the tip.  "You squirted!"
she giggled.  "Karen's a horny whore, but you're a horny uncle!"

   Moira laughed again.  "Well, I don't guess your uncle's gonna be able to
help you with your 'whore babycunt' for awhile, kiddo.  And ya know that
ain't really what you need, anyway, is it?"

   "What do you mean?" Karen asked timidly, suspicion evident in her high
voice.  She scrubbed at her tear-tracked face with the towel in her hand.

   "Well, he's not around most of the time, is he?" Karen shook her head.
"And what do you do when you get hot then?  You play with yourself, but
that ain't enough, is it?"

   "Tell the truth, Karen, it's okay," I put in between pants.

   Karen hung her head.  "No," she said softly.

   "So what you need, is you need is to go whoring on your own.  There's
plenty of guys out there that're dying to fuck a hot little whore like
you."

   "But - I don't know how!" Karen burst out.  She was almost in tears
again, torn between humiliation and need.  "I'm scared, and...I don't know
how," she repeated.

   "I know, kiddo.  It's scary at first.  But you know what?  I can teach
you.  I'll show you how.  You can get fucked right this very afternoon and
you won't need to be scared 'cause I'll be right there with you.  Now how
about that?"

   Karen looked doubtful, if for no other reason than being with Moira was
not her idea of reassuring.  She glanced at me for guidance.  "That sounds
like a pretty good offer to me," I said heartily.  "I think you should,
sweetie.  Just think how much better you'll feel when you can get fucked
whenever you need to.  And think how much more money you'll have, too."

   Moira didn't give her a chance to reply, acting like her agreement was
inevitable.  She turned to me.  "You think we can get the girls over to the
boardwalk for a couple of hours?  Tell the folks we're takin' them for ice
cream or something?"

   "I bet we can," I said, and a couple of minutes on my cellphone made it
so.  Rob was a bit grumpy at having his "nap" interrupted but he agreed
readily enough when I told him about meeting my old friend on the beach.  I
suggested taking everyone to dinner afterwards, maybe at that
no-Jimmy-Buffet place he'd mentioned on the trip down.

   As I hung up, Moira was just patting her bikini bottoms back into place.
Karen looked oddly relieved when her slick vulva disappeared beneath the
fabric.  "First thing," Moira said, "Is you horny little buggers gotta go
jump in the waves and wash that juice off.  Then we'll go get in my car and
do a little shopping, get Karen dressed up for whoring.  That'll be fun,
won't it?" I stood and pulled the children to their feet and we ran down
and into the water as Moira lit a cigarette and headed towards the stairs
up to the public parking lot.

   To be continued...

   *************

   This is actually only about half of what I had originally plotted for
part 19, but Moira's a horny little wench, and it doesn't pay to cross her
so I let her have her head, so to speak.

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