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Subject: {ASSM} The Curse (Chapter Six) By Katzmarek (MF, FF,MFF, Slow)
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Date: Sun, 30 Sep 2007 08:10:03 -0400
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 Chapter Six



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<1st attachment, "The Curse06.txt" begin>

THE CURSE

   By KATZMAREK(C)

   Chapter Six.

   ---------------------------------------------------

   Michelle was a sweaty, energetic and passionate ball of fire.  The game
excited Mick, even though he was worried the noise of their lovemaking
would be heard next door.  Only later, when she was satisfied, and lying
soft and contentedly in his arms, could he tell her of the startling news.

   She told him 'it would be good for him, because he'd always wanted to be
a father.'

   "But I was never any father in the real sense," he tried to explain, "so
it hardly counts.  I just feel cheated of all those years, those
experiences of watching her grow up."

   "Softie," she tickled him, "I hope she does make contact.  I'd like to
see you do the paternal thing.  I think you'd be a natural."

   "You going to tell The Dodger?"

   "Why not?  He's probably got a couple of kids somewhere that he doesn't
know about.  He can talk!"

   "Yeah, The Dodger was one for the ladies, that's for sure."

   "Sounds like you all got your fair share."

   "We were young and on the stage.  Girls thought we were rich and
famous."

   "Sure, and all that long hair and tight trousers?"

   The single bed was narrow and Mick thought he'd have trouble getting off
to sleep with Michelle pressed up closely.  He needn't have worried,
though, and they spooned in the usual fashion.

   "I wonder what colour hair she's got?" he mused.

   "Hmm?  Maybe brown to fair?  I mean, Sabra's dark isn't she?  Blond's
recessive, so..."

   "She always dyed it," Mick replied, "I've no idea what her real colour
is?"

   "Really?  Couldn't you tell?  I mean..."

   "Dyed as well," he grinned, "North and South."

   "Matching?"

   "Sometimes red, sometimes blue.  She was creative about such things."

   "Blue pubic hair?" she laughed.

   "Sometimes a runway, sometimes heart-shaped.  That was before it became
fashionable."

   "Trendsetter?  Any tats?"

   "Virago, left shoulder.  Ah, lion, left arse cheek.  Solomon written in
Hebrew on the right.  The emblem of the 34th Fighter Squadron, Israeli Air
Force, on her left ankle, which, I recall, was a Sagitarius."

   "Israeli Air Force?" Michelle said in surprise.  "Why?  Did she do
military service?"

   "No.  Apparently she had some close association with the 34th Fighter
Squadron in circumstances I'm unclear about."

   "Ah," she laughed, "it's sounds like she got around a bit?"

   "A little," he smiled in agreement, "or a lot.  She had a lot of
history, that woman, even when I knew her."

   Michelle had lectures first thing and Mick was due to meet Freddie at
the lawyers at nine.  Michelle's mum sent them off after a full breakfast.

   The agreement was to be drawn up establishing The Curse as a company
with five equal partners.  It would require the signatures of each of them,
which should be straight forward unless they wanted to run it past their
own solicitors.  In that case, it could be a long and drawn out process. 
Things had been a lot less complicated in his day, Mick mused, with people
coming and going at will.

   But if they expected promoters and record companies to invest in the
band's future, then everything had to be legally tidy.  Public fickleness
was a risk everyone took - music can fall out of favour overnight as
audiences latch on to the next big thing - but The Curse needed to adopt a
professional approach if they expected to get anywhere.

   A long meeting with Flyblown followed, where the CD was discussed at
length.  They planned a nationwide release and it was expected the band
would support it with a tour.  Flyblown promised all the stringpulling they
could muster to ensure The Curse got maximum exposure.

   Meanwhile...

   Privacy was difficult in Karen's little sleep-out.  It consisted of only
two rooms, a living area with kitchenette and a bedroom with a small
partition the size of a wardrobe housing the toilet and shower.  There was
a sliding door but it had come off its runners and Karen hadn't bothered to
fix it.  Instead she'd hung a piece of cloth over the door to mask the loo.
There was no laundry facilities - Karen washed her clothes up at the big
house.

   Behind the sleep-out was a short path that lead down to a deck, built
out over the gully at the back of the property.  The dense bush masked a
stream at the bottom of the gully that ran down to join the Hutt river. 
Karen had spent much of her childhood playing by that stream, accessed by a
perilous path cut out of the side of the gully.

   As an only child, Karen had not mixed well with other kids.  She'd been
shy and, in any case, her parents had been very choosey about who she'd
hung out with.  Anyone considered 'too rough' was excluded, lest they
encouraged their daughter to 'wander around the streets getting into
trouble.' The young Karen was expected to study hard - the bush was a
suitable way to spend any leisure.

   Too late her parents realised they'd raised their daughter to be
introverted and socially awkward.  They'd taken her to dances put on by the
Austrian Society and the Yacht Club, but the young Karen had just hovered
around her parents, too shy to join in the fun.

   Karen remembered those dances with horror.  Her parents had insisted she
wear these frilly dresses with ribbons in her hair.  They piled her hair up
with clips and painted her face with rouge and mascara.  As soon as she
could, Karen cut her hair short and she'd never worn make up ever again.

   At sixteen, something of a watershed emerged in her relations with her
parents.  She was doing well at school, in advance of her age, actually,
and was clearly not running with the 'wrong' crowd, or anyone else's.  Her
father decided to retire from the restaurant business and sold out leaving
them very wealthy.  He decided he and his wife should now enjoy those
holidays they'd deferred all their married life.  Consequently, Karen was
allowed her freedom while her parents started to enjoy themselves.

   Her dream of being a drummer started with an MTV clip of Babes in
Toyland performing 'He's My Thing.' It must've been a good ten years ago,
now, when Karen was eight or nine.  Lori Barbero drummed for the Babes -
the first girl drummer she'd ever seen.  She wasn't classically beautiful,
like woman were supposed to be on stage - her hair was in dreadlocks - she
wore no make up - was strongly built like a guy - had a weird, reversed
sticks drumming style she'd adopted herself - and she pounded up a storm
for that thrashy, punk inspired, all-female group.  Lori Barbero was
inspirational - she did everything her way in a male dominated world and
she was 'kick ass' feminine to boot.

   Janet Weisz of Sleater-Kinney was another inspiration.  An accurate
drummer with impeccable timing, she wore her hair short, cut like a boy's.
Karen adopted the look as her own and never looked back.  In any case, long
hair got in the way playing drums and was hot under the lights.

   Karen was blessed with a good physique for a drummer.  She had good
upper body strength and was short so she didn't need to hunch over the kit
like taller drummers.  Drummers are often short, Mick Fleetwood and Ginger
Baker being exceptions, although both of them suffered back problems as a
result of having to hunch over for long periods.

   Additionally, Karen's boobs were so small they barely made a dent in her
shirt front.  Big tits were never going to be an impediment during a fast
and furious number.

   Junior appeared to be asleep so Karen took the opportunity of having a
shower in the morning.  Where he was, he only needed to open his eyes and
be able to see right past the edge of the cloth into the shower box.  Karen
would've preferred him to be in the lounge, but she was being pushed for
time and didn't have the heart to wake him up.

   She stripped in the little cubicle - there was barely room and she
bumped the thin wall a couple of times with her elbows.  A quick peak
assured her that Junior hadn't stirred and she leapt into the shower.

   'They were good friends,' she pondered, 'why was she so shy about him
catching a glimpse of her naked?' She knew Junior wouldn't come storming
in, growling and slobbering, to molest her, so what was the problem?

   Her shyness, perhaps, still persisting after all these years?  She'd
never liked boys appraising her as if she was a piece of meat.  She felt
cheapened, degraded, as if her body was the only thing that mattered.  She
never got that kind attention anyhow, she thought, she was not pretty
enough.

   Then she turned to wash her butt and her eyes fixed on Junior's, sitting
up in bed with his morning ciggie smoking in his hand.

   "Gidday!" he smiled, as if he hadn't notice her naked as the day she was
born.

   "Um, hi," she acknowledged, wishing the cloth would suddenly blow shut
across the gap.  "You mind looking the other way?"

   It seemed a foolish request to Karen, as if he hadn't seen everything
anyway.  Junior lived in a household where nudity wasn't a problem and his
parents had often walked around without any clothes.

   "Um, sure!" he shrugged, as if he didn't care either way.

   Karen made the leap to the towel and quickly covered herself up.  She
scooped up her clothes and went into the lounge to change.

   "I've got a class first thing," she told him through the door, "if you
don't get up, you'll have to catch the bus."

   "Sure.  Mind if I shower first?"

   "I guess.  If you want to?"

   The door was a little ajar and Karen got a glimpse as Junior quickly
slid off his shorts and made for the shower.  His nonchalance was
unsettling.  Karen saw he was slim but well proportioned - perhaps there
was a rippling of muscle about his shoulders?  She thought he had a nice
looking butt, too, before she refocussed on getting dressed.

   Karen realised she was shaking and nervous as she tried to do the
buttons up on her shirt.  It seemed to take ages - her fingers appeared too
thick for the process.  She wondered what had so shaken her.  Was it the
thought of Junior watching her in the shower, or the sight of him stripping
in the next room?  They were just good friends, she reminded herself, and
she was being silly and schoolgirlish.

   He appeared, presently, freshly scrubbed and still faintly steaming from
the shower.  He'd thrown his old clothes back on - as only teenagers would
think of doing - and announced he'd take that ride into town.

   Karen was relieved when she dropped him off at the central bus station
in town.  Well, was it relief or a strange kind of sadness?  Was she
developing the hots for this kid, she wondered?  He was a year her junior
and still with the uncertainty and awkwardness of youth.  He was still
struggling with his self image, for God's sake, and was battling with his
parents over the last vestige of his childhood.

   She thought of her bandmates as she headed up the hill to Uni.  There
was Anna and Michelle with their weird girl love thing going.  There was
Mick and Michelle with their looks laden with desire and subtext.  Both
girls were attractive, outgoing, with bumps and curves in all the 'right'
places.  Sex, lust and love were second nature, it seemed, and they'd
little trouble pursuing their feelings with whoever they liked.  Despite
telling herself no, Karen envied their easy transition from awkwardness to
adulthood.

   Karen had gone through a phase a few years ago when she'd thought she
may be gay.  On her wall, instead of some rock God, she'd put up pictures
of women musicians.  Lori Barbero was her favourite - she'd made the poster
herself out of a magazine, enlarged and colourised in purple and reds.  She
hadn't quite dismissed the notion - actually enjoying watching Anna dance
in front of her on stage.

   Anna was almost supernaturally sexy in just about everything she did. 
Her body was that of a model's - tall and slim with a tight arse.  She
dressed carefully, picking her image with a lot of consideration.  She now
preferred black and violet - tights and a short flared skirt.  Rugby socks
were rolled up almost to her knees and she always wore heeled black boots,
which exagerrated her height.  On the stage she was larger than life and it
was no wonder the kids were in awe of her.  With her blond hair, invariably
worn loose, and pallid make up, she was the ice queen.

   Karen had watched Michelle one day as she swayed her arse playing bass.
Karen looked up to her for different reasons.  Michelle was an accomplished
musician and was serious about getting the songs right.  Whereas Anna was
impatient sometimes at rehearsal while she, Mick and Michelle struggled to
correct some problem with a song, Michelle worked hard with patience and
understanding.  Michelle was cute as a button who won over people with her
broad smile and good nature.  By contrast, Anna was often intimidating with
her star quality and commanding presence.

   Mick, she thought?  Well, Mick was the old hand, the master, but, at the
same time, an encouraging and supportive fellow musician.  Karen thought
him a damned nice guy and had no problem understanding what Michelle saw in
him.  Freddie was of the same stamp and she was almost overwhelmed by the
amount of time he devoted to her.  She felt like a daughter - which, she
thought, just about defined the relationship.  Freddie was immensely proud
of her after the Uni gig, in much the same way as Michelle's dad, The
Dodger, was of her.

   She loved being in the band and respected.  Mick, Michelle, and even
Anna, accepted her and she felt part of some strange, fractious family. 
She found the bickering upsetting, though, and she wished all of them would
get on much better all of the time.  Anna's personality, in particular,
would make that seem unlikely, however.  Karen was simply not used to the
arguing - not surprising, being an only child.

   Freddie explained it to her one day.  Creativity grows out of tensions
and the clash of opposites.  If everyone got on well, then the songs would
simply not happen in the way they had.

   "Boring fucking love songs!" he'd said, "soft rock like the fucking
Eagles."

   She'd smiled.  Freddie had a brilliant way of describing things,
peppered with swear words, and with the authority of long experience.

   Junior was on study leave from school.  He'd promised to meet her for
lunch and Karen found herself looking forward to it.

   Mick found himself looking at every girl of about the right age with
faintly middle eastern looks.  This sort of activity could get him into
trouble, he thought, as he travelled downtown on the bus.  Would she be
tall like him, or shorter, taking after her mother?  Blond or, whatever
hair colour Sabra was?  Tall and gangling like himself, or curvy and big
breasted?  Hell, if he studied every young woman with big tits that would
surely end unhappily, he thought with a smile.

   He alighted at the stop nearest the law firm and crossed the short
distance to the glass doors.  A woman came out and his heart skipped a
beat. She was obviously Indian, however, and a good 25 if she was a day.

   This just simply can't go on, he thought, or he'd go out of his mind. 
The lawyer specialised in the entertainment industry and knew the
requirements of artists very well.  The contract was standard and straight
forward and needed only the signatures of the girls to seal it.

   When the formalities were over, he asked him how he could set about
finding his daughter.  He explained the circumstances and the lawyer nodded
and sucked in his breath.  It wasn't an unusual situation, for, at the
time, adoptions had often been done that way.

   "Closed adoptions are unusual, these days," he explained, "less shame
surrounding the whole thing, you see?  Legislation tried to repair the
problems, but only went so far.  The government were unwilling to create
problems for families where the children had not been told they were
adopted."

   "So what can I do?"

   "I'm not an expert but I'll get my clerk to research the law, if you
like.  I'll let you know if there's anyway we can find out what happened to
her."

   "Yeah, thanks!"

   "You might like to check the public records office," he suggested, "for
her birth records.  It might give you a lead as to whether the adoption was
handled privately or by the State.  By the sounds of it I'd say it was a
State adoption and all those records must still be in existance.  How the
law works from that point on I'm unclear about."

   "Yeah, well, thanks for your help."

   "Hey, I understand, Mick," he smiled, "I can imagine how tough it is for
you."

   Mick rang around the girls to tell them of what's been happening.  He
also informed them Flyblown wanted a photo shoot and they'd been booked
into the studio tomorrow night.  Already they were thinking of CD covers,
even before it was recorded.

   As a non-playing member, Freddie wasn't required for pictures.  The nice
photographer lady had Mick dressed as Gandalf, to everyone's amusement -
Anna as some kind of demented Goth with wide penetrating eyes - Michelle in
black with a huge silver cross dangling about her chest - and Karen peering
from behind Gandalf's cape like some sort of Gollum.

   Is was very like Anna and a caste of players, as she had the commanding
position in the photos.  It was as Mick expected, that the photographers
would love Anna and want her out front.

   It was a tedious process and all, except Anna, was glad when the session
was over.  Anna, herself, stayed behind for some solo shots while the rest
made for the pub.  Karen soon disappeared after one drink leaving Michelle
and Mick by themselves.  Eventually, they decided to head back to
Michelle's place for the night leaving Anna to catch a cab.

   She eventually arrived home just after 11.  Mick and Michelle were in
bed cuddling when they heard her crash through the door.  She was singing
to herself and clearly on a high after the photos.

   Mick was naked and Michelle had just her panties on when Anna knocked on
the door.  Mick was a little taken aback, but Michelle told her to come
right on in, they weren't 'busy.' In fact, Mick was just starting to think
he'd like to be busy with his girfriend, but conceded he had to wait until
Anna had gone to bed.

   Michelle made no attempt to cover her breasts when Anna came in.  Anna
didn't seemed to notice and sat on the bed chatting to her friend.  She
wanted to talk image and 'look' and asked Michelle's opinion on outfits and
make up.

   She asked if such and such would suit the band, but really, Mick
suspected, it was more about whether it suited Anna.  He accepted singers'
vanity - he'd never met a singer yet who wasn't concerned about their
appearance.  But theirs was the responsibility of fronting the band and he
was glad he didn't have to.

   Soon Anna was sitting on the other side of Michelle and it was a short
step to getting into bed with them.  She did it without asking, much to
Mick's annoyance, slipping off her tights and sliding under the covers. 
Her arm came around Michelle's shoulders and the two girls hugged, as
they'd no doubt done many times before Mick was on the scene.

   "Is good, very good," Anna told Michelle, "we're going to be famous!"

   "Settle down," Michelle laughed, "we're not there yet.  It may all turn
to custard?  You never know in the music business."

   "No, we're good and we're going places.  Do you think so, Mick?"

   "We cast our stone into the pond and see what a splash we make.  As
Michelle says, you can't count on the public to do what we expect." Mick
thought it a very profound comment to make, but it didn't dent Anna's
enthusiasm one whit.

   It appeared Anna was fixing to sleep with them.  The time was now after
midnight and she made no attempt to go to her own bed.  Mick was very aware
he was naked and it was a little unsettling.  He settled down into the bed
and Michelle turned her back to him for her usual spoon.  Anna settled also
and nestled into Michelle wedging her like the filling in a sandwich.  Mick
turned off the bedside lamp.  Shortly after, he heard a rustling and
realised Anna was shuffling off her top and bra.  There he was, with his
arms around Michelle whose arms were around Anna.  It was some kind of
schoolboy's fantasy.

   Every movement of Michelle's shapely bum reminded Mick he was
anticipating sex tonight.  She was grinding him, keeping him hard, excited,
and in breeding mood.  He could hear her whispering to Anna and felt her
giggle in response.  He thought they were making comments about him and it
ticked him off a little.

   "Mick?" she said aloud, "Anna wants you to get some pants on." There
followed fits of laughter from the two girls.

   "If you prefer I can go home?" grumbled Mick.

   "C'mon, just kiddin'!"

   "So was I.  I'm not goin' anywhere."

   "Hey, baby," Michelle turned over, "are you mad?" She batted her eyelids
at him and he laughed.  "There, now, don't be so grumpy."

   Anna, too, turned over and Mick was rewarded by a brief flash of bare
tit in the moonlight, before she hastily covered up.  "Mick?" Anna asked,
"you don't mind me sleeping with you guys?  I don't like being alone."

   "If you don't mind me having passionate sex with your friend here?"

   "What?" Anna looked shocked.

   "He's kidding you, Anna!" Michelle told her.

   "I am?" Mick replied in mock surprise.

   "Yes you are, you horny beast.  Stop picking on my friends or you'll
spend the night on the couch," she grinned.  Anna had propped herself up on
her elbow and the covers had fallen from her chest.  Mick had an excellent
view of her perfect breasts.  She caught where he was looking and made a
half-hearted attempt at covering up once again.  "Hoy, buster!" Michelle
piped up when she discovered the object of his gaze.

   "If it's good enough for me to put some pants on," Mick declared,
"equally, Anna should wear a bra."

   Collectively, they realised how silly it all was and settled down, Anna
bra-less and Mick pants-less.  Mick hoped it wasn't going to become a
regular thing.  It shouldn't have been too much of a problem but for the
fact Anna was such an incredibly attractive young woman, and she was well
aware of the fact.

   As if to mock him, she got up in the morning, still topless, and
strolled around in just her panties, before leaving to find some clothes.
She walked out of Michelle's bedroom, flicking her long hair and pushing
out her chest in a blatantly provocative way, he thought.  She was teasing,
mocking him, and he didn't find it amusing at all.

   Meanwhile, Karen had gone home with Junior, as had become something of a
routine.  Junior was now spending more time at her little sleep-out than he
was at home.  Terry had come to accept it - at least she knew where he was,
she reasoned.

   Karen was now sure the rest of her little 'family' supposed they were
boyfriend and girlfriend.  What others thought they were didn't trouble
Karen overly.  They were good friends and hung out together.  Beyond that
she didn't know or care.

   Junior kind of liked the idea people thought he had a Uni girlfriend. 
It'd given him a great deal of prestige at school and something close to
envy.  He didn't discourage their assumptions at all and even suggested she
was coming to the school ball with him towards the end of the year.  Of
course he hadn't talked to Karen about that, but presumed she wouldn't let
him down.

   After the photo shoot, Karen was exhausted and declared she was going
straight to bed.  She'd no idea before how much just standing around could
be so tiring.  Junior yawned and said he'd hit the sack as well.  He
followed after into the bedroom.

   Karen undressed with her back to Junior, aware his eyes were fixed on
her naked back.  She hurriedly threw her nightshirt over her head and
pulled it down into place.  With that she fled to the washroom to brush her
teeth.

   When she returned, Junior was sitting in bed with his goodnight smoke.
She smiled and got in next to him.

   "Hey, Karrie," he said, blowing out a lungful of smoke, "what are we?"

   She looked at him and knew what he was getting at.  "Friends," she told
him, "just good friends."

   "Yeah, well, that's not what everyone's saying?"

   "So?"

   "Is just that, well..."

   "So what are you after, Junior?" Karen asked him, "you want us to be,
like, boyfriend and girlfriend?"

   "I suppose," he said, downcast.  "I really like you, y'know."

   "Yeah!  Yeah, I knew that, Jun'.  I'm not really sure, y'know?  This is
so weird for me."

   "What?"

   "This!  You, me, in here, in bed together.  I just don't do this!"

   "Huh?  It's not as if we've fooled around?"

   "No, I know, and it's really silly.  I tell myself this is natural and
we're really good friends and I really trust you, y'know?  It's not about
that.  I know you'd never take advantage - anything like that."

   "Sure, of course!"

   "And it's not that you're not really nice looking, too?" she smiled,
embarrassed.

   "Y'think?"

   "No, it's, well, it's really hard to explain.  I, I never planned to
have a boyfriend, Jun'.  At least, not yet."

   "Y'mean like some sort of plan?  What, boyfriends are not in your year
planner?"

   "Very funny!  Not!" she looked at him sternly.

   "This guy at school said that a girl just needs a little encouragement.
That when they say no they really mean..."

   "Don't fucking say it, Jun'.  That's a recipe for date rape and you
shouldn't be listening to that bullshit."

   "Sorry."

   "Guys are so full of shit!  When are they going to see us as people?"

   "Ah, shit, Karrie, I didn't mean..."

   "Have you ever so much as kissed a girl before?"

   "Sure, a little.  I had a girlfriend when I was 15.  We practiced a bit,
y'know?"

   "Practiced what?" Karen laughed.

   "Kissing."

   "That all?"

   "Hey!  What about you, anyway?  Y'had boyfriends?"

   "Um!" she was suddenly serious.  "Actually," she said, slowly, "I never
did much of that.  Kinda silly, I suppose, I'm nineteen and never... 
um..."

   "Never been kissed?  You serious?"

   "I never said that!"

   "Well, have you?"

   "You're getting too personal, Jun'."

   "Sheeit!"

   "Stop it now!" she commanded, "or fucking get out of my bed!" Karen
looked on the verge of tears.  Concerned, Junior reached over and put a
comforting arm around her shoulders.  Angrily, Karen lashed out, catching
him across the cheek with the palm of her hand.  Junior recoiled in horror
and she instantly regretted hitting him.  "Oh, God, I'm sorry," she told
him, leaning across.  "Did I hurt...  oh, I'm really sorry.  I don't know
why I did that!"

   She was leaning over Junior, now, her face just inches from his.  He
still had a surprised look on his face.

   "No matter," he said, "should keep my mouth shut and my jaw turned
away."

   He smiled at her and she melted.  "Don't get smart, Junior, or I'll slap
the other one."

   "You've got to kiss it better," he told her.  Amazingly, she accepted
the rules and pecked him on the cheek several times.  For good measure, she
included his mouth as well and then she found herself in a clincher.

   Karen was surprised by the flood of feeling.  It felt like a damn
bursting.  At first she was just kidding around with Junior and then she
was sliding all over his body, kissing, touching and caressing.

   Junior responded with equal ferocity, rolling her on her back and trying
to push up her nightdress.  She could feel him hard and urgent and knew she
had to set the limits to this activity before Junior took all the
initiative.

   "Wait!" she gasped, "I'm, uh, not on the pill or anything."

   "Huh?  Oh, ah, sure, ah!" Junior said, coming up for air.  Karen's gown
was shucked up over her tummy and her panties had slipped down a ways. 
Junior had worked fast, she thought to herself.

   "Ok," she said, "if we're going to fool around...  we, ah, can't go all
the way, ok?" Junior nodded.  "You can keep your pants on, ok?"

   "Sure!"

   "And if I say stop, you don't go any further, got it?"

   "Sure," he nodded.

   "Ok, ok," she panted, "so, what do you want to do?"

   "More of what we were doing?"

   "I guess.  Maybe you ought to take off your shirt?"

   "Ok.  You going to take off yours?"

   "If you want me to?" she replied, uncertainly, "I don't have very big,
y'know..."

   "Boobies?"

   "Breasts!"

   "That's okay.  I don't like them too big anyway!"

   "Oh, sure, and how many have you seen?"

   "I watch the movies!"

   "You're just too fucking smart for your own good, Junior!" she smiled as
she eased her nightshirt over her head.

   Junior reached up and touched her nipples.  "They're just fine, Karrie,
really pretty."

   Karen melted straight away and kissed him hard on the mouth.

   ---------------------------------------------
   KATZMAREK (c)

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