August Moone Sagas
Book 6
Journeying
Chapter 33
And then what happened?

Lust in the Dust
	“Soooo, am I the first girl—you’ve ever seen—”
	Ted gave her his famous charming smile.  He had to be careful of what to reply.  Bowing his head and not looking directly at her “goodies” he shook his head, indicating that she wasn’t the first girl he had seen naked.
	The two sat by the fire, opposite of one another.  It was a touchy moment and had to be played carefully.
	“I’ve never seen a guy—I mean, a guy’s—thingy.” Melody blurted out.  She sat on her butt with her arms wrapped about her knees.  It was mid noon; no helicopters, no search parties on the water or anywhere around them.
	Ted gave no response.  What could he say?  What could he do?
	“I mean,” continued Melody, “that the pictures and stuff in our health books—”  she shook her pretty head and didn’t finish.
	Ted stood and sought out some more hidden drift wood, not making much ado about concealing his naughty parts—of which were still dramatically hard.
	“How come it’s like that?” Melody asked.  She was all kinds of embarrassed and Ted felt some of the embarrassment himself.
	“I-I dunno,” Ted said plucking some wood from under a boulder, “it’s kind of got a mind of its own.” then, “It embarrasses me sometimes when it gets--” he didn’t finish and faced the boulder.
	Silence existed between them for the next few moments, Ted continued to find bits of wood and brought them to the fire.  His cock remained ever so stiff (and ready to boink Melody at any moment given the okay to do so.)

	To continue making good the “hero” thing, and the chance to prance about butt naked, Ted once more braved the river.  Clinging tenaciously to the boulder that stuck out into the raging river he tried desperately to peek around to look up from where they had come.
	But the bank gave way and he tumbled into the drink.  Again.
	Melody was right there and latched onto him.  Ted was frantic and  pulled Melody in, then it was a mad scramble to reclaim senses and get back onto the shore.  (during which time Ted in his pushing Melody onto the shore did so with his hand on her bare ass…)
	Back by the fire and calmed down from their frightening experience, Melody was the first to remove her shirt.  (of course, she and Ted could have merely taken their shirts and covered their below-the-waist-naughty-bits, but what fun would that be?)
	Ted removed his and was butt bare assed naked.
	Melody still had her bra on.
	Then she promptly removed it, too.

	“May I ask you something?” 
	The fire crackled but was dying down.  The long hot day they had tolerated.  They were dry but hungry.  No sounds of thropping helicopters, no voices of rescuers.  Evening was upon them, they had quenched their thirst from the river—Ted getting another delightful gander at Mel’s ass and cunt crack as she stooped over scooping up the river water.  How desperately he wanted to rush her and shove his fuck stick into her.  Pussy or asshole he didn’t care.
	Somehow he managed to grip his toes into the sand and stay put.
	Ted shrugged as he sifted the coals and added the last piece of wood available.  “Sure.” he said.
	“Well, I-I shouldn’t be asking this, but I-I was just wondering--”
	“What?”
	“Have you and Justine--” she trailed off, chewing a lip and staring at her feet as she sat on her butt opposite of Ted at the campfire.
	Ted knew what she was getting at.
	No, he hadn’t, he wanted to, though.  He wanted to screw every girl that worked at the Runamock—even the secretary who was in her 30s and the wrangler who was a gal who was in her late 30s!
	“No.” he said honestly.  Would it have made a difference if he would have said “Yes.”?
	“Man, I’d give anything for a burger and a shake.” Melody said suddenly changing the subject.
	Ted grinned and nodded, a “FUR-burger” and a “SHAKE” of Mel’s ass on his face!
	“I saw Justine and Kyle--”
	“What!?” it was a startle and a “huh?”
	Melody sheepishly grinned and bowed her pretty head, “Yeah, in Horsemight’s stall.”
	“They were DOING it!?”
	“Yep.” Melody said matter-of-factly.  
	Ted was stunned, He had fucked Kyle in the ass, toyed with the dude’s balls and cock and been reamed himself in the ass by Kyle—and Kyle the asshole never said word one he was boffing Justine!
	Justine had an ass.  A great ass.  A nice ass.  She had tits, too; nice tits that jiggled as she rode  her horse Horsemight.  She was mostly serious and didn’t overly like Ted all that much, but Ted was a fair horseman himself and more than once got Justine’s approval about his horsemanship.
	But he had never boffed her.
	Kyle had.
	“Was Horsemight in there, too?” Ted asked curiously as he imagined Justine and Kyle naked fucking in the hay the huge bay stallion standing right there, too!
	Melody nodded that it was so.  Then,
	“Soooo, like, you saw them--” Ted took a turn at trailing off.
	Melody blushed and smiled.  She had a smile.  A wondrous smile.  Her eyes, too; wondrous.  She had great complexion and personality and looked great sitting in the nude.  Ted closed his eyes and desperately fought to keep himself from jerking off right then and there.
	He saw Melody’s eyes—focused on his erection; he sat on his ass with HIS arms about his knees—in similar fashion as Melody.  His manhood was right there for her to gawk at.  And she was.
	“She was on top, too.” Melody continued.
	‘Holy shit!’ Ted exclaimed to himself.  ‘What the fuck, were you right in there with them!?’
	“I was standing just outside the stall.”  It had been midnight, it was hot and Mel’s feet had been hurting causing her not to be able to sleep.  So she took a walk and strolled to the stables.
	“They were really getting it on, huh?” Ted smirked.  His mind was set on Justine and Kyle fucking, with Justine on top!  
	“I-I couldn’t see much, though,” Melody added, “it was too dark.”
	“Have you ever seen anyone--” Ted stopped himself as the question was kind invasionary.
	“I saw my cousins--” she blurted but then abruptly stopped herself.
	“Cousins?” Ted was curious, he hadn’t a sister (or brother) but always wanted one.  He had casually heard brothers and sisters “did it” and always wondered what it would be like to boff one’s own sibling.
	“Yeah,” Melody continued, “couple summers ago.” she trailed off and didn’t seem to want to add to the story.  Ted slowly found himself with his hand wrapped about his prong.
	Melody yawned and sideways stood up and then ambled off towards the river.
	“Going for a swim?” Ted asked teasingly.
	“Not really.” she returned.
She squatted.  Ted raised his brows and thumped on his cock a little tighter.  ‘Oh God!’ he was in agony.  Agony!  Melody was squatting to pee!

	The need to pee struck Ted, too; but he couldn’t go.  His cock was stiff and very erect and disallowed the flow of urine.  He stood facing the back area of their enclosure, one hand on his sand encrusted ass the other trying to coax his cock to either cum or pee.
	Casually he wondered if while fucking a girl he could pee in her?
	(no, you cant)
	“Everything alright?” Melody’s voice interrupted him.  He couldn’t answer and wanted to just out and out jack off.  But with Melody right with him it would be a waste to cum and not have any of it on her!
	“I-I cant--” he couldn’t finish as he was frustrated.
	“Anything I can do?”
	WHAT!? WHAT!? WHAT!???  What was she saying!
	Ted fluttered his eyes and turned his head to see her somewhat careening her own head trying to get a more suitable look at his doings.
	“I-I cant pee.” He managed to blurt.  He turned his attention to the boulder wall and squeezed his dick and his ass.  “Oh God!” he exclaimed.
	Moments passed, he neither could cum or pee.  It was agony.  Agony!
	Then, Melody was behind him.  Gently she brushed the sand off of his ass.  Then her body was right up against him—he could feel her breasts against his backside.  His cock took on a new feeling.  It also took on a new hand!

	Gently-ever-so-gently, Melody’s hand wrapped itself about Ted’s hand.  She moved the two hands up and down while resting her head against his back.  Ted couldn’t breath.  His mind was in overload.  There was so much he wanted to do.  So much.
	Slowly Ted removed his hand and let Melody handle his handle.  He squeezed his nuggets with one hand while daringly reaching back behind him to rub Melody’s ass.
	It would be a real bad time for a rescue…

	No need to worry for that.
	Melody worked Ted’s cock into a surging frenzy.  Ted could scarcely think straight, let alone breathe.  Melody was good, maybe even better than he himself.  She had a gently touch; squeezing the prong and pulling the skin taut all the way to the base.  
With her thumb she rolled it around the super sensitive crown and then diddled it to the piss slit.  Soon her free hand (that had been busy diddling her sex) reached around and took over squeezing Ted’s balls.
	Agony!  Agony!
	Ted could take it no longer.  He turned to face her.  
	She was smiling.  Bowing their heads to one another they embraced for a few linger moments before their lips found another.  They began to kiss, their tongues mingling and their lust exploding into new areas of the unknown.
	Slowly the two eased to the sand, Melody opening her legs.  Her nipples were beautiful, as was the girl herself.  Ted mounted her, locking his arms with his masterful cock grinding up against her cunny.  Melody arched her back and it seemed like as if though her poon’s lips made like a snake swallowing it’s pray.
	The sensation of entering Melody was terrific.  More than that.  Ten times more than that.  No words could he come up with to describe the insane blissful feeling of “putting it to” Melody.
	With slow methodic pumps Ted calmly made love to the girl.  Her cunny was snug and delighted him.  His asshole clenched up and all the way into her he went, slowly pulling out almost all the way before plunging back in.  Down onto her nipples he went, engulfing them and suckling.  Melody’s hands clawed at his back, her hips bucked into him and they romped on the sand for quite some time.

	The climatic end came with a rush of a millions sensations all crammed into a miniscule moment in time lasting no more than a minute.  He pumped furiously until the exhausting apex of their unionship was exceeded and Ted had cum.

*
A matter of minutes
	Ted’s eyes fluttered.  His balls were singing and cum dripped down his shaft and onto his hand.  Not the first that had happened.  He continued to jack himself until the feeling had subsided.  He could hear Melody’s footsteps in the sand as she returned from where she had gone to pee.
	A matter of minutes.  He had jacked himself to ultimate pleasure, wasting his load of spunk fantasizing about Melody.  Turning his head just so so as he could see her, she had returned to the inadequate fire and squatted.  Evening was upon them and in a matter of minutes it would be dark.  No rescue.  Another night downriver, alone naked with a naked girl and no sex.  (well, not willing…)
	On the sly he squatted and wiped his hand in the sand to clean off the ejaculate.  He doubted very seriously that Melody would have jacked him, he could imagine all he wanted, but it would never happen.  (not consciously…)

Water water no where and non to drink, either
	Melody awoke hungry, cold, a little confused and sore from her watery experience.  It was breaking down.  The events that had transpired since her initial plunge into the San Juan filed into place and reset her memory.  Looking around as she struggle to awaken to a full state of awareness she saw Ted.  He was standing butt naked at the edge of the river.
	But something was wrong.  Really-really wrong.
	As she stood she saw what had captivated her friend she was stunned.
	“What happened to the river!” she said exclaimed almost racing to his side.
	Ted shrugged.  “I dunno, I just got up a bit ago and noticed it was gone.  Just like that!” he snapped his fingers to emphasize the point.  Carefully Ted eased down to where he was sitting on the bank of what used to be a raging river.  There was a four foot drop to the sand.
	No sign of river.  No sign of water ever having been there.  It was befuddling to be sure.  Ted turned looking back up to Melody.  His eyes quickly averting themselves from her juicy bits and her dangling luscious orbs.  He shrugged and pawed his feet thru the sand.  It was warm.  He stepped out around the boulder and saw…
	No river.
	Not river at all but a rolling fog a few hundred yards away.
	“Oh crap, Ted, what’ll we do?”
	Ted had no clue.  He guessed that they had come thru to a parallel universe, like what was told on the news.  He had not known anyone who had experienced such a phenomenon, nor had Melody.  
	“I-I don’t think its moving.” Ted said calmly as he stood staring at the rolling fog.  It spanned the width of the river and then some.  It looked incredibly thick, boiling/rolling (in place) and was at least sixty feet high.
	“Do-do you think--” Mel had to pause to gather her thoughts, she was almost clinging to Ted’s side.  When she had to have some help scooting down into the dry river, Ted helped and got a nice look at her cunny.  His cock soared and was dramatically hard again.
	He couldn’t tell but he thought he saw Mel “checking” him out.
	“Do I think what?” 
	“Our world, the Runamock, where we came from—do you think its in that fog, behind it or something?”
	Ted had no idea.  But he didn’t think so.
	“I-I think we should find another way.”
	The banksides were dirt encrusted and not too easy to master.  Several times they both tried various places only to tumble back down—spread eagled and exposed.  Both grew somewhat embarrassed by having to gawk at one another’s private areas.  Ted wished Mel would be more open.  He wished that Mel would please him the way he had fantasized her doing…
	Not wanting to get closer to the mysterious fog bank the two teens went some yards down from their boulder camp.  The bank was lower and with Ted’s hand on Melody’s ass, she scrambled up to the surface and helped pull Ted up.  She did take notice of his hard-on.
	“Does it ever go down?” she whimsically asked.
	“Not lately.” he chided back.  Melody giggled and blushed—but nothing more.

	The sun was hot and got hotter.  No water no where.  No shade, neither.  With their only clothing, their shirts, the two wrapped their feet and trekked down the now dry river.  It eventually just open up and segued into the desert.
	Not good.

	“We might have to give this a re-think.” Ted said as they paused at a lone dead desert tree.  No water, no shade, no clothes; boiling sun, lots and lots and lots of wide open burning desert.  Not good.
	“Hey, what’s that?” Melody exclaimed squinting her eyes.
	Ted stared into the direction indicated.  It was a long ways but looked like a ridge of rocks—and a building!
	Too hot to run.  Too hot to think.  Too hot to breathe.  Too hot to dwell on the fact that he was butt bare assed naked with equally butt bare assed naked Melody!
	Reaching the in question took a little time.  As they neared it was not as grand as thought or hoped.  A ridge of rocks there was stretching some distance left and right and stretching upwards some 50-75 feet.  But nestled at the base was a building, a shack.  A miner’s shack.  Well, it was something anyways.
	Upon arrival the shack was even less appealing.  It was a structure built right into the ridge of jutting boulders.  A structure mix of tin and wood and cement.  No windows and one door.  Mining equipment lay strewn all over the area and there was a rickety rope ladder nearby going up the ridge of rocks.
	Ted knocked on the door, it was silly but…
	No one was inside.  Mustiness greeted them when the door squeaked open.  There wasn’t much inside; a bed with a bare mattress, miner’s junk on the floor and the rickety table, there was an old fashioned water pump on a cabinet that had a simple old fashioned basin.
	At least the sun was blistering their hides.  Melody turned the mattress and plopped down on it while Ted fiddled with the pump.  It was dry and needed “help.”  He found in the cabinet an old jar that was half filled with water.  It was for the pump.
	After what seemed forever, a trickle of water did begin to spew out of the pump.  The first trickle was brown and gritty.  A few more earnest pumps and prayers and clear water finally came thru.

	It was well welcomed and both washed themselves with very little thought that they were both naked and standing together--until moments later when the realization sunk in.  Ted didn’t mind, nor care; but Melody…
	Surprisingly inside the wood-tin shed it was cooler and not oven-like.  Melody took seat on the mattress, Ted found a spot at a corner, shielding himself and not blatantly exposing himself to Melody.  Melody couldn’t very well conceal her lovely teenage breasts, but she could close her legs to keep her most holy of holies unrevealed.  (but by this time, why bother?)
	Their feet were scorched and blistered.  Their shirts they had used to protect their feet had did little good.  Ted sorta kinda regretted his ditching of their pants…
	At length, Melody fell back on the mattress—her pussy right there for the viewing.  So Ted viewed it!  His cock though burnt to a scorching crisp surged to full strength.  He wanted to put his tongue to her pussy, open her legs and “get after it.”
	Slowly he squeezed his pud, boning her on the sand at the boulder camp was probably the one and only time.  He sat on his butt staring at her coozy, it was agony—sheer agony!  At length he bowed his head to his knees, leaving his aching cock alone (for the moment.)
	Exhausted, his body still seared from their trek from the dry San Juan to miner’s shack, sleep came almost instantly.  He slept soundly for awhile, his mind filled with the terrorizing experience in the river, then the encampment and the shagging of Melody.  He awoke finding his cock was still hard, with bits of cum oozing from its piss slit.  The fantasy he had had of Melody jerking him off and pleasing him orally filled him, too.  
	Looking up he found Melody had pulled herself completely onto the mattress, her back to him.  His eyes focused on her ass.   It was all he could do to keep himself from placing his hand(s) onto the girl’s ass.  Desperately he wanted to.  
	Shaking his head he slowly arose, stretched, farted, and lightly squeezed his schlong.  Melody never stirred.  A moment he lingered, then another, then he shook himself wholly and turned to look down the short hall that had been overlooked earlier.

	It was short, just a few feet and built right into the massive rust colored rocks that made up the ridge.  At the end was a construction of a wood construct having two holes with wooden lids.  Seeing the roll of toilet paper and a magazine put Ted McGriff wise to what the construct was.
	There was no detectable “smell” and it was guessed what was down at the bottom of the holes was decayed matter and no longer potent.  On some shelving in the extended room were bottles of chemicals and solutions…
	Ted leaned his knees against the knee-high construct and aimed his cock.  With his cock still hard, though, peeing was difficult.  He squeezed himself at the base, fondled his balls, then rubbed his ass and determined himself to pee.
	Finally his need to relieve his bladder overwhelmed his need to jack off and be pleased sexually.  After a pee that seemed to last five minutes, Ted “shook” his willy and turned to find Melody watching him.
	“What are you doing?” she asked.
	“I-I found the bathroom.” he said with a shrug and a smile.
	He made no attempts to hide his member and walked sideways into the main room while Melody went to check out the two hole shitter.  Ted looked around for sustenance.  And found it!  In some rickety cabinets above the so-so sink and water pump were some mystery tins.  
Mystery tins as there were no labels indicating as to what was within.  The only utensil was something of a spork—a spoon with notches at the end like a fork’s tines.  It wasn’t strong enough to open the can; Ted by shaking it could hear the sounds of “sloshing” within.
	As Ted checked around the room for something suitable to use to open the can he caught a glimpse of Melody sitting on one of the holes.  She looked at him but didn’t give him a bad look.  Ted continued his search butt bare assed naked.

	In a corner under the mattress was a box.  A BIG oblong box was found.  Ted dragged it out and sideways watched as naked Melody came to help.  Her pussy was right there at eye level.  Again, Ted’s dong was strong.
	The box wasn’t locked and with was some clothing, blankets, shoes (boots) and a can opener!
	Melody, however, picked up something.  A calendar.
	“Check this out.” Melody said.
	Ted did so.  He stared.  He blinked his eyes trying to get a handle on what he was staring at.  It was a posed tiger in human-like posturing laying out on a Victorian style sofa that was not the typical red velvet colour but green textured.  The tiger creature was female (she had hooters and a fur pie) and it was mind boggling.
	Then, the writing on the calendar was odd, too.
	A book was found having the same/like writing.
	There were no discernible “ABCs” but a new strange language neither had ever seen.
	“We’re definitely not in Kansas anymore.” Melody chirped.  Ted nodded in agreement; then opened the Mystery Can.

	Peaches!
	Lots of peaches in their natural juices.
	Melody wanted to have another can opened, but feared the next would probably be something like spinach!  She hated spinach.  Ted took the risk and was delighted to find more peaches.  The two were happy and satiated and seemingly not aware of the other’s nudity.
	The clothing was a nice find, nothing that either was familiar with but recognizable just the same.  There was a “fitting” issue but at least their sensitive skin would be protected.  A pair of shoes but no socks or underwear.  It also meant no longer prancing about in the buff.  But the image of Mel’s nude body still filled his mind and for the time it would have to be enough.
	At evening fall Ted and Melody stepped outside.  It was noticeably cooler.  To one side of the shack was a rope ladder.  Ted went up first with Melody following after he had made his way to the top.
	The boulders were still significantly hot.  The long sleeved denim shirt Ted could pull the cuffs down to protect his hands.  The shirt though seemingly “heavy” in nature was not and didn’t bog him down.  It was light and airy and Ted was thankful of it.
	At the top of the ridge he and Melody stared out over the other side of the rocks.  More flat land, but lo! there in the distance there seemed to be some buildings, lots of buildings and light!

	“Don’t travel at night; there’s unseen dangers; you can slip and fall into an abandoned mine; you can step on a snake; get bit by a whole host of desert critters, and the heat will cause you to lose yer mind!” wise words from the old wrangler at the Runamuck.  Ted and Melody didn’t listen, though, and headed for the lights as night came fully upon them.

	It was hope.  
	It was dark.
	It was still hot.
	It was foolish.
	The landscape was not level and dipped several times.  The two stragglers struggled to maintain sight on the lights of the town with only a moment or two pausing to catch their breath.  Ted casually wondered about what they were getting themselves into.  He thought of the calendar with the cat creature as a nudy picture.  What if in the new world they were obviously in had a whole race (a town) full of creatures like that?
	Dismissing the possible dangers the two pulled their ill-fitting clothing tighter and continued onward.
	It was hope.
	It was darker.
	It was cooler.
	It WAS foolish.
	Neither saw the dilapidated wooden planks concealing the vertical mine shaft.  Down they went in a huff and a puff.

*

	A cool refreshing and very welcomed breeze drifted in thru the open window.  A time or two it was thought to be heard a coyote calling.  But when the ears trained to listen more earnestly—the sound could no longer be detected.  
	With the coolness of the evening the swamp coolers were shut down.  That allowed for an even more peace and quiet.  Occasionally the teenage boy, Ted, would awaken and come check on his friend, before or after a good piss in the normal bathroom down the hall.  He had enjoyed the shower and then a long soak in the tub.  His concerns for his friend were admirable, and it wasn’t long before Forrest unloosened the truth from him.
	The second round of being unconscious for Melody was a dousy.  A big knot to the very back of her head had done her in.  Forrest didn’t think there was irreparable damage or harm and the young teen should come out of it fairly well.  It would just take some time.

	She was indeed a beauty.  Ted seemed to have no qualms about the adult man who had rescued them stripping the miner clothes off of her and then dunking her in a freshly drawn cold bath.  Her feet were blistered and her skin scorched.  Ted was the same way.  Luckily, though, for them, there were healing salves and ointments to help cure them.
	While the poor girl slept in an unconscious world, Forrest took his turn with pleasuring himself at her expense of not knowing.  He closely examined her; finding her cunny non-virginal.  She was still “tight”, though.  That was a plus.  Her asshole was virginal, Forrest finger fucked the girl’s backdoor to his delight making that determination.  With her being unconscious, though, Forrest was unable to delve into her mind to gather necessary information.  But that was okay, there was time.
	Ted was NOT unconscious and the following morning Forrest picked the boy’s mind.  The scorched teen was none the wiser and Forrest easily put the boy at ease.  He needed very little revamping to come around to Forrest’s way of living.  No encouragement at all was needed, Ted was willing 110%.
**

	Terror filled him along with sheer pain.  The wind was knocked out of him and he swallowed a couple of gallons of sand, at least.  And there was nothing to do but swallow the choking sand, he couldn’t move.  Dirt and debris (and sand) spilled into his eyes and nose, too.
	Finally he managed to roll to one side and spent several minutes trying to get his breath.  Then he lay still for several more minutes just recovering.  Then,
	“Melody?”
	Rolling back over he found Melody flat on her back.  She was lucky, damn lucky, she hadn’t broken her back.  But the bottom of mine shaft was soft sand.  Well, not exactly “soft” per se, but it wasn’t bone crushing hard packed dirt OR rock!  It was just the initial twelve foot plummet that was the bitch of it all.
	“Melody!” Ted cried out.  He shook her, slapped her face, checked her pulse and breathed a sigh of relief to find one.  Her arms and legs were askew; checking them he found no breaks.  She was a very lucky girl—‘cept for he noggin.

	A long while there was, frantic moments of sheer panic; being in the bottom of a mine shaft was far worse than in a raging river.  He spent the night calling out, how far away the town’s outskirts were was unknown—let along if there were really anyone about who could hear him.
	The mine shaft was a pit; it was filled in or had collapsed—which was disheartening as Ted worried how much fill dirt there was beneath him and the rest of the shaft…
	At daybreak, Ted tried climbing out of the pit.
	Nope.  The sides were rocky alright but nothing to get a good grip on.
	Frustrated, Ted sat in a huff for most of the daylight morning.  No food, no water, no hope.  Not good.  (again)

 	With the need to pee pressing on him, Ted stood and “whipped it out.” During the shake he farted and began fondling himself.  His attention then fell to his cock and to the once more unconscious Melody Taylor.  Licking his lips he wasted little time in slipping her boots and miner’s pants off.  He opened her top and pressed his prick right against her muffin.  If she woke up during his fucking of her—well, fuck it, so be it!
	She didn’t wake up, though.  She made some slight faces and one groan (or grunt).  Ted sank his teenhood into her poon and fucked her until he was spent.  Her bodacious fifteen year old titties got sucked and he wasn’t quite sure if he was peeing in her or cumming.  The stream of “whatever” was intense and felt terrific!
	An hour or so had elapsed and he was horny again, he thought of pegging her again, having her legs up his chest and his cock stuffing into her asshole when he saw a poof of air poofing up some dirt in a corner.  A rumbling there was beneath him and then a small are of dirt/sand gave way.  Several minutes were needed before Ted risked it all by peering down the hole that had been made.  There was insufficient light to see clearly but there was more of the mine shaft below them.  Stale funky air wafted up and Ted began screaming at he top of his lungs “HELP!” those lights in the town didn’t come on by themselves!

Nightshade
	Looking casually over his shoulder he was bemused to find his ever constant companion watching him.  Morning was nearly upon them, Melody showed no signs of “awakening.”  Touching her mind revealed little activity, she was in a deep-deep sleep.
	Austin entered the room, he was nude and had a major erection.  Forrest’s erection was buried to the hilt into the girl’s poon.  Her legs were up along his chest and he was “getting after it.”  Austin came up to the bed,
	“He’s asleep.” indicating the status of Ted.
	Austin nodded, though little would he care of the teen boy was awake or not.  He completed his screwing of Melody with a mighty pump surge.  He sat back and stroked his cum squirter.  Young Austin beamed as he stared at the cum oozing out of Melody’s cunt and squirting still out of Forrest’s schlong.
	Forrest reached out for his stalwart companion, caressing the lad’s arm and up to his head.  Austin leaned in and gobbled on Forrest’s prick, sucking it and cleaning it before being positioned onto Melody’s body.  When he was pumping the girl, Forrest guided his ever the hard hard-on into the boy’s rectum.
	It was how Ted found them.
	He stood silently at the open no-door room, slowly stroking his own meat and watching.  When Forrest was done, he squirted his love cream all over Austin’s bare ass.  He then noticed Ted and gave a head nod, “come on over.”  Ted entered the room; Forrest eased back on the bed and Ted took position—and promptly poked Austin’s hole himself!

The Second Bloom
	The concept of Parallel Universe, a New World, and a new way of life was not difficult to accept.  It was different but not difficult.  Ted acclimated well enough, he missed his Old Way of Life in his Birth World, but beings as the likelihood of returning to it seemed nil, he sought to make the best of the New World.
	For Melody; she lay in an unconscious state of being for three more days before “coming around.”  During which time she was very vulnerable to Forrest’s mind manipulation abilities.  With the girl’s mind in disarray, though, it was still a toughie to re-wire her thinking.

	In the meantime, Austin and Ted got along well, they scoured the town, being typical boys and promptly found yet another amazing find.  Melody had been “fixed” into accepting the new lifestyle (going nude, accepting the others nude, and giving of her self for sex.)  Forrest and Melody followed the two nude boys to the new find.
	Melody would have to endure more mind manipulations from Forrest on an occasional basis (daily) to continue to entwine her new lifestyle into a more stringent form of acceptance.  While dinking in her noggin, Forrest found she was horny (naughty) with not only a male cousin but a female cousin, too!
	She also had had sex with a dog!
	After finding her female cousin taking the family dog on, Melody did likewise and liked it.  She took doggie dick to her poon AND backdoor.  She also licked her cousin’s poon while being dogged.  
	The new find was a boon.  An underground pool!
	Fifty feet wide and one hundred long with the deep end being twelve feet.  There were safety ropes strung across and floatation devices.  The water very cool and refreshing and damned welcomed.  It had been a little low but with the start up of a generator in a utility room water flowed into the pool from a rock formation at one end.  The rock had been there before the pool, the pool constructors had built the pool around it.
	There were no chemicals, the water was a fresh-natural spring that was recycled and refreshened on a regular basis.  Forrest and his crew found it very welcomed and would be spending a lot of time in it.
	Melody acclimated to the new world AND the new way of life.  Forrest figured she would eventually come up pregnant, like the girls at Forrestville he had foolishly left.  He still somewhat regretted that decision.
	Ted was the one, though, who mostly took his pleasures with Melody.  She was still Melody, the only change was her willing ability to remain usually naked and in a horny state.  She was already a naughty girl, having sexual relations with her cousins AND their dog; so Forrest’s tweaking her mind to shirk the rest of her sexual inhibitions was not hard to do.
	Forrest found that Melody DID harbor a little desire to have relations with Ted.  But he was so stuck on himself she was turned off.  But still, she DID desire to have him IN her.  She DID want to handle his cock and feel him fucking her pussy.  Forrest kept that tid bit of info to himself…
	Occasionally the fifteen year old Melody found herself taking on all three of the dicks in her life; pussy, mouth, and asshole.  All three would usually cum, she would cum, and then they would shower or go swimming together (where there was even more fucking…)

	A month passed.  The only change was a two hour rain shower which translated into a six hour mugginess.  The group got along swimmingly—which was where they spent most of their time.  Other times they were snooping about the Town of No Name, acquiring foodstuffs and general stuff to make life easier.
	During the snooping it was determined that the Town of No Name had been host to a race of cat creatures.  Catkins.  Forrest still had little clue in deciphering their tedious language.  He studied and studied and just when he thought he had it—he was trumped up by a new character scratch and had to start over.
	What had happened to the catkins was a mystery.  Where they had gone and why they had left would also “remain a mystery.”  There were too many conclusions that were not conclusive.  	 Had some enemy destroyed them?  A disease wiped them out?  They returned from wherever it was that they came from (originally)?  Or something other?  Something sinister?  Or less frightening and the race of curious creatures merely had gone off on a romp and not yet returned.
	Forrest doubted the latter.
	The town had been scoped out, no other marvelous finds like the underground generator and pool.  Forrest didn’t like going out of town too far for fear that the Town of No Name would simply disappear.  Where the “doors” were that led into a New World were as mysterious as the cat creature race.  Surely there was a Door that led BACK to the Birth World, surely.  Maybe?
	But then again, truth be known—Forrest didn’t really care!
	At one end of town where there were no roads but broken remains of a foundation of some ancient home Forrest stood at the edge of a cliff overlooking a vast desert.  There was “desert” all around to be sure, but the cliff gave way to a DEEP desert valley—long and wide.  A great barren mountain there was to one side, absolutely nothing everywhere else.
	It was some thousand feet or so the desert-valley floor.  From the cliff base to the mountain there was a lovely space of at least fifty miles, possibly more.  Of curious interest there was a glint.  It struck Forrest’s eye and caught his attention.
	A window?  A signal mirror?
	The glint was about half way up that barren mountain.

Along the way…	
Curiosity got the betterment of Forrest, he had to know what the glint was.  Could be important.  Could be.  There was very little to keep him settled in No Name, he hadn’t a job or such.  Another vehicle was found to be more useful, an old pickup circa 1948 Detroit-America, but with an extended cab AND refrigeration.  It was a little different than what originally came out of Detroit-America, more comfortable, bigger tires, a strange engine, and refrigeration.  The group of Forrest’s was loaded up one early morning and they struck out.
	A long road there was to where it began to drop steeply down to the desert valley.  Forrest worried slightly about the steep road; it wound this way and that, that way and this and was steep.
	Then, the road began to turn away from the intended direction or where Forrest thought it was going to go.  It flattened out and was still some several hundred feet from the valley floor.  In the distance there were some trees, thick green-very green trees.  When a little closer there was a river.
	A small river.
	Water spewed out of the side of a steep rustic hillside and created a river that was only a thousand feet long before disappearing into sand.  It was some fifty feet wide and seemed calm.  Thick green-very green deciduous trees lined both banks.
	On a spot by a large collection of boulders were some peoples.
	Young peoples.
	Naturally!
What is today but yesterday’s tomorrow
	Just three peoples.  A girl in her mid teens, a boy about the same, and another boy not yet a teen.  All three were all ready naked.  The not yet teen boy was being thrilled as he stood buck naked on the sand, his cock buried to the base into the sucking mouth of the teen girl.  Meanwhile, the other teen boy stuffed the teen girl from behind.  The teen girl fingered herself while she was boinked and doinked, 
	After a few moments, the not-yet-teen boy in her mouth came.
	So did the boy in her ass.

	The boy who had been in her mouth pulled out and humped on the teen girl’s face completing his work.  His knees wobbled and he sunk to the sand continuing to fondle himself while the teen girl licked his cream off of her face.
	The boy who had been in her ass pumped as hard as he could during the final moments of his orgasm.  When his cock had expelled all its glorious juices, it still remained quite stiff.  He pressed it against the girl’s ass, ran it up and down the crack and poked her cum laden asshole.
	The not-yet-teen boy was white.  Lily white.  Short haired, blue eyes, kinda on the skinny side, and burning in the hot desert sun.  He scooted to the river and immersed himself fully.  The teen girl turned and was still apparently in a horny state of being.  She was light brown haired and her hair in a thick single braided pony tail that was loosened at the end.  She was pretty but beheld a serious persona about her.  Her breasts were nice and full, perfectly supple with stiff nipples.
	The remaining boy was about a year or so younger, he was Mexican or Indian (or both.)  Raven black hair, very tanned skin, not much taller than the not-yet-teenage boy frolicking in the nearby river.  
	The girl turned to face the one who had been in her ass, his cock remained stiff and she stroked it, fondled his balls and then guided his stiffy into her cunny as she lay down on the sand.
	The not-yet-teen boy sat up to watch the two going at it again, and found their were prying-spying eyes upon them.

	Incorporating Brandy Brown, Joe Sandyeyes, and Josh Trye was easy.  They were so-so aware that they were in a world not their own, but they had food stores in their backpacks and fleeting hope that returning to their Birth World wouldn’t be long in coming.
	Yeah.  Right.
	
	Forrest quickly and easily calmed their fears; thusly allowing them easier acceptance into Forrest’s group.  Ted was horny (always horny) and set his dazzling blue eyes on Brandy.  He wasn’t bored with balling Melody, but new pussy was always good—for variety’s sake anyways.
	With the refreshing river right handy, and it was surprisingly NOT swift OR deep, the Forrest gang stripped down and helped themselves.  Other “frolicking” would commence in due time.

The Third Bloom & Fourth Bloom
	-or-
The Marsha-Marsha-Marsha Bloom and the “How the hell did I get myself into this” Bloom
	Brandy Brown was good.  She enjoyed sex.  She thrilled sex and thrilled Forrest as he plowed into her.  Melody and the two boys with Brandy “frolicked”, Forrest giving Melody the mindlink nudge to give herself unto them.  The Mexican-Indian boy, Joe Sandyeyes stuffed Melody’s sweet still cock pleasing tight cunt while the very tanned not-yet=-a-teen boy Joshua slammed his rod into Mel’s backdoor.
	Brandy lay on her back half in and half out of the shallow river; her long extremely tanned legs pulled back, her shaven snatch exposed to Forrest’s very manly schlong.  He was an old pro, though, but still delighted by new pussy.  He took his time, tantalizing the teenager; he ran his fully enthralled cock up and down the girl’s trim, gouging her furless poon and poking her pooter.  Then, he went down on her.
	Beside them a couple of feet Melody wriggled and splashed in the shallow river water as she was double teamed.  Brandy enjoyed being “tongued”.  Whether or not she had ever been tongued before was unclear, but she loved it; her body twitched as Forrest’s overly talented tongued darted into her crevices expertly.  The river water sloshed about and vibrated as the young teen was thrilled and drilled.

	The road before them straightened out but angled away from the refreshing river.  Forrest, along with the others, wished they could stay.  There was no home no where close.  Ridges and rustic hills blocked the view of the valley and it was a little while before the road less traveled dipped sharply back towards the valley of intent.
	Once at the level of the desert valley Forrest couldn’t locate the “glint” that had sparked his interest in the first place.  And it all looked the same across the scorching sand, the barren mountain gave no info at all.
	He was going to have to be more diligent and make a map rendering or something.  The trip, though, wasn’t a total loss.  He had picked up three more for his group.  Still, only Melody the only one in need of minor mind manipulation—Brandy, Joe, and Josh already naughty, nasty, and willingly accepting dirty sexual ways of living.

	It took twice as long to return to No Name than it to get away from it.  Brandy and Joe, with Josh, too, too the small house next door to the one Forrest and Austin had taken residence in.  Melody and Brandy got along and without much nudging, the two willingly engaged in immoral sexual relations.  Which was very fine with the boys.
	Joshua had been buggered up the ass before, friend Joe Sandyeyes had buggered him, as well as a best friend of Josh’s dad and an older cousin.  Josh didn’t overly care for it, but not for the buggering itself—just he manner of being forced into being reamed.  He didn’t mind being fucked, but he wanted it to be on HIS terms.
	It would be sometime before returning to the desert floor.  If not daily it was every other day traipsing out to the river.  Several hours were spent there frolicking and enjoying the natural river experience.  Of course, the underground pool in No Name took up the times that they DIDN’T go to the river.
	Melody and Josh hit it off nicely and while scavenging the town they found in the general store a sack of seeds.  They promptly set about planting the seeds, having no idea what they were planting, all over the town.
	In little time there were found to be “sprouts” all over the town, too.
	Melody miscarried and it was rough.
	Brandy, though, brought a baby girl into the world a few short months after her arrival to No Name, she named it Brittany.  It was deduced by “timing” that Joe was culprit (er, father) as most of the features of the new child bore Mexican and Indian markings.
	Melody was blue for a while about her loss, but got over it—there would be plenty of more opportunities to bring a child into the new world.  Plenty.  (like almost nightly and daily!)

	By the time Brittany was a year old, the plantings Melody and Josh had planted were showing what they were.  Peach trees.  Lots and lots of peach trees.  The two tended to the trees, forty in all, daily.  The trees were cared for as much as Brittany was by Brandy.  
Bees were found in suspended form and once brought out they did what they did best—other than stinging Forrest and Joshua…
	There were no fancy handy toss-away plastic diapers in the New World, simple old fashioned cloth diapers were the thing.  The boys weren’t too keen on the dirty diapers, or the incessant cryings, or all the other annoying things a baby does.  

Joe tolerated it and was for the most part a good & decent father.  Brandy went thru her typical mood swings and didn’t overly care for Joe sinking his pud into Melody.  She got over it (with Forrest’s help) and all was well.
	Melody came to Forrest one sunny day (in No Name, it was ALWAYS sunny) with a proposition.
	“How about Peach Tree!” she said with a beaming smile.
	“Peach Tree?”
	“Yeah, the name for the town,” she was clothed, as time had wore on clothing was found in the town that was suitable, breathable, non-cumbersome and while worn it didn’t feel like you were wearing anything.  The only times clothing was NOT worn, was usually at night or while swimming.  (or screwing…)
	Peach Tree.  As many as forty peach trees there were scattered all over the small desert town.  Other seedlings found were found to be of the veggie and small non-tree fruit type.  
	Peach Tree.  Somehow it DID seem fitting.
	Forrest furled his lips in thoughtful acknowledgment.  Melody smiled and sprung off to tell the good news to Josh.
	Forrest watched her bounce off.  A twinge filled him.  Forrestville.
	The names of those he and Austin had left there swelled within him, pestering him.  He had no right to have just “gone off” and left them.  He shouldn’t have.  He had a good life there.  There were the creepy Creeps to contend with, and other assorted baddies.  He knew that he couldn’t live with himself if he ever should find out that anything terrible happened to his clan at his namesake.
	He knew that he couldn’t abandon the new clan he was in with.  He also knew that there were probably bad feelings left behind, his name cursed and his namesake village probably changed.  Some would probably know that he just simply “wandered off” in pursuit of new adventures.  Others would fear that he wandered off and was killed by a Creep or stumbled into a New World.
	It bothered him.
	He wished he had a way to “touch” his OWN mind!
	Several trips were made in the year of life of newcomer Brittany down to the desert valley floor.  Each time, though, Forrest debated with himself about traipsing out across the flat desert to the mountain of interest.  A fear gripped him and held him firm.  

          A fear of the unknown?  Certainly.  Inasmuch as he feared death.  No, not exactly.  He didn’t fear death, he feared the dying.  Of death he assumed his destination was elsewhere other than Heaven.  Of dying—of dying he was uncertain.  The manner of dying.  If he died while putting his prick into some righteous hole and experiencing the most toe curling orgasm ever; why then dying would be alright.
	If dying while merely sleeping—that would suck.
	If dying while watching other fuck their very brains out, good.
	If dying while sitting on the toilet forcing a major turd out of his constipated asshole—bad.
	If dying while noshing on righteous German chocolate cake, while it was smeared on some righteous young hairless poon—good.
	On Brittany’s fifteenth month birthday, Melody announced that SHE was pregnant.  She was just starting to show.  She was glowing.  Forrest was proud for her and wondered slightly who among the cum squirters was responsible.  Not that it really mattered.
	On the day of announcement and monthly birthday, the group headed for the river.  The days were getting noticeably cooler and there were clouds forming at the mountain.  Just half an hour into the frolicking than did Forrest hear voices.
	Hurried voices in panic.  With the rush of the ever flowing short river and the breeze that was strangely only in the river flow area determining where exactly the panicky voices were coming from was unclear.
	The girls stayed put on the shore while the boys scattered in all directions in hopes of pinning down the new sounds.
	Ted climbed up the jagged rock face of where the river shot out from.  At the top the nude teen who was buffing out scratched his balls and ass and looked around, then began yelling that he had found something.
	Two somethings.
	One something was a small private twin engine aircraft.  It had crashed and had been crashed for a while.  Two survivors, children.  They were not kin or biologically connected, they were friends—children of the one and a half set of parents who were dead.  Very dead.  The pilot’s head had been decapitated on impact, the man in the co-pilot seat had had his throat slashed by the glass breakage.  The one female (darn shame) had suffered internal injuries.
	The two children were bewildered, befuddled, and befuxed.
	They couldn’t tell their names or where they were from or anything.  Both had suffered injuries themselves, soiled themselves, and were starved.  Forrest determined by the wreckage and decomposing of the kids’ parents that the accident had occurred just days ago.
	The second something was the source of the panicky calling voices.
	There was a hole at the top of the rock flat surface.  It was lined with straggly roots—although there were no vegetation whatsoever anywhere near the vertical entrance.  The flattop area was all rock; flat, hot, and spanned only a hundred feet in all directions.  In one direction was the jutting river.  In another was a nice one hundred foot drop off to a craggy slopping bottom that emptied out to a parched dry river.  Another direction dropped steeper and further into a gray abyss.
	Light only went so far down the vertical shaft, it was merely five feet across.  When Forrest got on his knees and stuck his hand foolishly down into the shaft, the rootish-vines wriggled and acted much like a Venus flytrap!
	“Hello?  Hello?” Forrest called down.
	“We’re in here, HELP!” called up a girl’s voice.

	Several feet down the rock trap shaft two teens there were.  Step-sibs Greg and Marsha were in peril.  (and they didn’t know how they got that way, either!)  Both were okay, physically, but they had been in the rock trap quite awhile.  No food or water and they were seriously weakening.  
	Forrest gave the situation some thought, farted, sweated, and then farted some more while continuing to think some more.  The “roots” were sensitive, much like a Venus flytrap; they extended out into the center of the shaft to whereas there was only six inches or so of clearance.  Not enough room for a rescue.  The roots looked like roots, there were tiny hairs all along the knobby structuring, curving downwards into the shaft.  You could go IN, but getting OUT was unlikely.  Very unlikely.
	Back at the vehicle Forrest rummaged about coming up with a mediocre plan.  It didn’t look like the rock trap roots went down too far.  They lined the inner circumference of the shaft fairly thickly but seemed to only go down five feet or so.  

	“You might want to shield yourselves.” Forrest called down.  He then struck up the minute flame thrower (a regular lighter type with a one foot extended nozzle.)  he then lit up a oil soaked torch and began burning the trap.
	Success!
	And stench!
	And screams!
	The burned roots crinkled and made sizzling sounds, then as they were burnt off some of the “remains” dropped down onto the two semi-unsuspecting teens twelve feet below.  Whether or not the roots of the trap would grow back or not was not clear, but Forrest wasn’t going to wait and see.  With rope it was Ted whose lanky frame would traverse the trap’s shaft easier.  Greg and Marsha though not overly injured were injured to some extent with a broken leg to the each of them and Marsha with a bad sprained ankle.
	The bottom of the shaft was somewhat cushiony—the remains of the trap’s dinner.  A slight struggle to pull the trio out to safety then precariously negotiating the trek down to the flat ground and the panel truck.  Brandy and Melody had taken charge of Julie and Arnold.  Greg was concerned highly for his step-sibling, she was all kinds of hurtie-owie.
	Once back at the home in Peach Tree Greg said nothing as Forrest stripped Marsha down to her skin and placed her into the tub.  He shooed the others who lingered at the bathroom door entrance.  Greg didn’t have an apparent boner at seeing his lovely teenage sib nude, but he was concerned for her.
	Marsha didn’t seem to care about being stripped naked, she was in too much discomfort to particular care.  The water was more then refreshing.  Forrest and Co. had found that the New World water from the tap had mystical healing properties.  All of the group of Forrest’s had cut themselves, stubbed a toe, banged a shin, got a bruise, broke a finger, sprained a hand, etc. in the several-several months they had been in the desert town dubbed Peach Tree.  When washing the part that had the hurtie-owie, miraculously the hurt numbed out and became nothing and the gouge, bruise, sprain, scrape, cut, healed within minutes.
	It was so with Marsha Brady.
	When the healing was noticed, Forrest on the sly tapped her mind and her stepbrother’s.  a lovely story they had.  Lovely.  Simply fucking lovely.

Meriting a Badge of Fornication
	Being crammed in with several other guys was really no big deal.  But being the only GIRL in among the eight other boys was sorta.  She got along with the boys; that was a plus.  She knew the boys; another plus.  They played the License Plate game, Out-of-State, Name that President, and the ever popular Name that Smell…
	Girls had more couth when it came to ripping a butt blast, especially when crammed in with others.  She figured her brother although merely a step sibling had manners and wasn’t one of the other ripping stinkies.  But Marsha figured the boys were trying to gross her out.
	Her step-father had been bombasted when she announced to him that she wanted to join the Scouts—and not the prissy-wussy GIRL Scouts, the outdoorsy more adventurous BOY Scouts.  Greg was not so enthused and her new daddy didn’t believe she could make it.
	Marsha, however, was out to prove them wrong.
	She wasn’t dissen her sisterhood of the (Girl) Scouts she belonged to, but they were lame and didn’t do near as much as the Boys did and she was an outdoorsy kind of gal who loved the woods and was intrigued by the things her new brother (Greg) regaled her about.
	So, in no time at all, like a week, Marsha was crammed into a Scouting van heading into the mountains near their home from the valley.  She had no idea what was in store for her.
	Surprisingly, though, despite Marsha’s usual liking of fashions, cleanliness, articulation, prissy/frilly things; Marsha zoomed thru the Trail Test, Trail Test 2, Advanced Trail, and even Expert Trail.  All the “tests” required a Scout to find his (her) way back to camp using techniques of noting broken twigs on tree limbs, rock alignments, scuff marks on the trail, and so on.
	Greg and her new daddy were greatly impressed.
	A few hours before the evening of the 2nd day, of which there was to be a grand celebration for the Scouts who had passed certain requirement tests and earned badges of this and that, Marsha was in her tent, shared by her new brother, Greg.  Greg had stopped in to check on her; she was hot, tired, and slightly-lightly complaining.  (her feet were hot and every fiber of her being tingling with pain & discomfort)  
	Greg helped pull her boots off, the girl lay back in an almost collapse, arm over her eyes.  Greg eyed her with a devilish smile.  To himself only he admitted that it WAS nice to have sister sibling in the mix, and it wasn’t just ONE sibling sister but TWO more, too!
	Of course, sisters and brothers didn’t always get along, the new sisters  were girls still and were quasi therefore “icky”.  But they were still nice—more people to blame stuff on for one!
	And then there was something else…
	Greg undone Marsha tan regulation type pants and slid them down.  Marsha didn’t move.  Greg slid the tan regulation pants off, sniffed the crotch and felt his cock nearly busting out of his own reg. pants.
	Marsha stirred some, stretching, wriggling her toes.  Greg gouged his aching cock then worked the girl’s panties down.  Flowery undies, he didn’t understand it—why did girls go for such things, no one normally could see the undy?  Once the panty was down and off he sniffed the crotch drinking in the essence that was Marsha’s damp-sweaty musty cunny.
	There wasn’t a lot of time, sitting up on his knees he eased his tan pants and underwear down and moved himself up between the girl.  She was merely a year younger, which was alright.  Another sibling he liked that was new to the family was Jan.  of course, there was the littlest member of the newly combined family, Cindy.  She was too young to “mess” with, he’d wait until she was at least 9 or 10, maybe.
	Greg Brady.  He had two younger sibs, Peter and Bobby.  When Peter had been merely four, their mother had been killed in a bad accident.  But in record time, less than a year, the boy’s dad had rebounded and fell newly in love with a hottie who had three girls.  She was single again after her hubby of fifteen years “disappeared” while on a trip with his secretary en route to Aruba…
	Greg and his brothers liked the new “mommy.”  She was pretty (a hottie) and tried very hard to get on the boys’ good side.  The boys got along with their new sisters; there were the typical brother/sister arguments and fights—no fisticuffs or serious “fights”, just typical sibling rivalry and boys against girls stuff.
	With time against him, Greg lay against his nearly nude sister.  Marsha was cute.  He had known her when she was merely twelve years young, she had blossomed in the two years since—bigger titties, tighter ass, and delicious poon.  Greg’s hot cock humped against the entrance to Marsha’s poon, Marsha still barely made any sign of life.
	Greg smiled and began making headway.  As the mushroom of his prick made the penetration, Marsha moved her arm up to her brow and gave her brother a look.  Not a bad look but one of “inappropriate” timing.  Greg shined her on and eased the rest of his nearly manly dick into her.  Marsha put her arm back over her eyes…

	He thought she’d be pissed.  He thought wrong.
	“Ok.” she said with a shrug.  She wasn’t disappointed after all.  Greg shook his head, he knew that he would never understand girls.  Marsha’s initiation and ceremony of awards would be the following evening, the last nite of scout camp.  The current evening was for boys—and boys only.  
He knew his sister was kooky, he just knew she would throw a fit about not getting to go to the boy’s only shindig.  But she fooled him.  After having his way with the girl, which was good—damn good, Marsha undone her matching tan shirt and got totally naked.  Greg liked.  A lot.
	He sucked on her titties—just like they did at home.  Marsha gripped his back, her lovely naked legs about his waist and they fucked.  Their mouths met and though they loathed “kissing” otherwise, when in the throws of illicit sex they were all into it.
	Greg gave her a good doinking.  He had caught her early on during the courtship of their parental units—fingering herself and then fingering out her sister Jan.  Spying on the two got Greg on the inside track of the new siblings; they were naughty.  When he “busted” the girls during one of their fooling around session, the girls were at first frightened—then pissed, then other assorted feelings of How Dare You.
	Then Greg whipped his dick out on them…
	Both girls jacked him.  Both kissed the head of his schlong although neither cared to.  Greg, in turn, tongued the girls’ poons and eventually was pressing his cock against them.  With Jan he was only allowed Up the Hershey Highway, with Marsha, she took him straight on between her legs.
	She liked it on top, too.

	After redressing, Greg scurried out of the shared tent and went to his private Boys Only shindig.  Marsha didn’t care.  She was tired and worn out.  She lay in nude on top of her clothes and sleeping bag, her feet and pussy were tired.  She rubbed her feet together while fingering her fresh fucked cunt.  She quivered some and slowly began working herself into a frenzy.
	Quivering all over she rolled onto her stomach, hand down under her body with fingers delving feverishly into her quaking quim.  With her other hand she spanked herself, squeezing the flesh and digging a finger into her not-too-tight anus.  
	Boys Only.  She wondered.  She brought herself to orgasm and then lay still while her body calmed down.  Her nipples were super sensitive and her cunny sopping wet.  What was so special about the boys having a private session?  What could they be doing?
	Curiosity got the best of her.  She wiped down her still fevered cunny, pulled on some fresh clean undies and slipped out of the tent.  She wasn’t quite prepared for what she found at the secret boy’s meeting…
	No one was at the campsite, though.  There were coals and backpacks and general crap scattered about but no boys.  Marsha got a drink of water, farted, then stepped into the woods to have herself a good pee.
	While peeing, she heard voices.
	After peeing, wiping her still fevered cunny, she slinked her way thru the woods to come upon the boys after all.  Some were naked, some were in the process of getting naked.  Marsha hunkered down in the bushes and watched; her fingers slyly rubbing herself as she did so.
	Then, her new daddy stepped out into view.  Butt bare assed naked.  His manly manhood was HUGE and stood out proudly.  Marsha guessed it musta been 8 inches at least!  Her mouth hung open and she compared the new daddy schlong with another cock that had been prominent in her early life.
	Her private thoughts were interrupted as one by one the nude Scouts came by to give a stroke to Scout Master Brady’s cock.  Marsha had always wondered if anything was going on between Greg and his dad, she knew Greg was boning his brothers, but was the daddy involved?
	Her pussy was soiling her fresh panties and her asshole ached for a fingering.  After the nine boys had stroked and been stroked, they lined up again to face eye to eye with the masterful cock.  Each boy kissed  and then engulfed the mammoth dong and sucked it for as little as two minutes to as much as several—or until they received a copious amount of hot fresh jizum.
	Marsha was enchanted.

	There, too, was a fair amount of “fondling.”  Lots and lots of fondling.  Scout Master Brady fondled each boy, some faced him to be fondled while others were faced away; his manly cock up between the legs OR up between their cheeks!

	The boys themselves were engaged in special male bonding leaving Marsha jealous.  She so wanted to be a part of it.  All those naughty-naughty cocks!  She deeply wondered what it would be like to be fucked by as many cocks as she could take!
	She watched as her question about wondering if Greg and his dad engaged in immoral lust was answered.  Greg was bent over, clutching his knees while he was pounded steadily in the ass all the while he slurped on the schlong of a fellow scout.
	Marsha watched for as long as she could, then she slinked back to her tent, got naked and “got busy!”  Shortly after midnight Greg returned.  As he crawled over his sister he found her naked.  Gingerly she gripped his pud.  Greg had fucked his fill with the other scouts, but he was game for more.
	The following day had Marsha once more traveling obscure trails.  When she returned to her tent she once more stripped to her skin and chilled out.  Greg once more took his pleasure with her and slept until the early evening.  Then…
	“We’ve got something for you.”
	“Oh?” Marsha held her tongue.  She already figured, but then again wasn’t 100 percent sure.  The merit badge and other assorted recognition of achievement awards would be nice, but she didn’t take on the adventure for silly awards—it was a personal achievement unto herself (and to show up the boys!)
	“I’m ready for anything.” she quipped.
	Greg was shocked.  “Uhm, you-you might be careful with what you say,” he told her, “you-you might get more than you bargained for.”
	“Oh please,” bitched back Marsha, 
“I’ve done all your silly tests—“
	“No, it’s not that, I-I knew you could do it.”
	Marsha appreciated him for saying so.  “We’ve, uhm, there’s a little get together, you know, a-a presentation ceremony.”
	Silence was between them, Greg lay out on his sleeping bag pulling on his clothes, Marsha doing likewise.
	“Anything else?” she asked as she zipped up the fly of her pants.
	Greg hesitated.  She was a good egg; she let him poke her in the ass and mess with Jan.  She let Peter fuck her, too.  She got totally naked with the both of them and the three of them had a hell of a good naughty time.
	But could she handle the whole troop?
	And what about his dad?
	Greg knew his dad was kinda interested in Marsha—he didn’t know about Jan or Cindy, but Marsha certainly.  Greg sorta-kinda figured that his dad would probably like to fool with Marsha.
	“Well, there IS another thing--”
	“Oh?  What?”
	He looked to her.  Sometimes girls could be so whacky.  Marsha though fourteen sometimes looked twelve  (and acted twelve, too!)  her face was so young and immature, but her body wasn’t!  She was a little dynamo, too.  (and she was willing, that was a big plus)
	“Yeah, I-I, well, it’s us guys and we all get together and—and, well, we do stuff--”
	“Stuff?”
	“Yeah, stuff together stuff.  I-I, I mean, me and dad don’t think that you’d be interested—I mean, it’s diff--”
	“Greg, don’t hurt yourself,” Marsha said with that incredible smile of hers, “I know.”
	“You know!?”
	Marsha nodded her, she knew.

	Scout Master Mike Brady looked up to see his new daughter Marsha followed by bio son, Greg, enter into the main campsite.  She was pretty, young, and blushing.  Why was she blushing?  Mike had longed figured that Greg and Marsha were fucking.  
	All the other scouts had assembled for the presentation of awards and such, all were clothed.  Greg stepped up to his father and made with the whispering while Marsha stood by the small campfire looking over the eight boys.  The youngest boy was 12 while the oldest was ripe at 15, the same age as her whispering brother.  
Each boy she had seen the night before naked.  Each boy she had seen suck Greg and his dad.  Each boy she had seen stand and jack off into the camp fire.  Each boy she had seen get fucked in the ass, spanked, and peed on.  Each boy she had fantasized all nite long about…
Mike Brady looked astounded, then smiled as he took a second look to new daughter Marsha.  She smiled back at his gaze and blushed all the more.  Mike nodded to her and she approached.  They hugged and Mike turned her around, patting her shoulders and then placing his hands right on her budding teenage hooters.
It got the attention of the boys.
Unknown to Greg, Marsha and Mike HAD been fooling around.  A lot.  With Jan, too!  (more on that later…)
	“Boys,” announced Mike, “Marsha here is ready for the ceremony.” then, “our SPECIAL ceremony.”
The boys all stared in disbelief.  Greg began peeling out of his clothes and Mike undressed Marsha…

Her dreams were being fulfilled, her fantasized dreams that is.  Dick after dick filled her dick hungry cunt.  The boys in no particular order firstly came to ogle the hungry cunt, take it in with their eyes and then kiss it.  They were schooled in the fine art of cunnilingus; the natural instinct of fucking they didn’t need to be schooled in.
Marsha enjoyed the attention her cunny got, prior to being doinked that is.  Each boy took several minutes in just licking her pussy, kissing it, fingering it and pleasing it before “sticking it.”
When the last boy had done his thing, it was Marsha’s new daddy’s turn.  She blushed.  She turned beet red; her nipples perked and her young body tingled from her toes to her head.  It wasn’t, though, her first time with her new daddy.
Only three months after the family had blended together had Marsha felt comfortable enough to approach him.  Mike Brady was an architect and he had a special office in the combined family’s new home.  The office was more like a den, having carpeting, a window, a small fireplace in a corner, a couch, etc.  It was cozy. 	
The family, meaning the boys as well as the girls, were schooled in the knowing of staying out of their dad’s office (while he was within; unless there was an emergency—like the house on fire or someone was bleeding.)  Marsha, however, often got away with that instituted rule.  She often came into his office-den to watch him with his architectural drawings.	  Her bio daddy had been an engineer and never really let her into his world.
Mike Brady loved his new daughter.   Hehehehe  So he was not overly bothered by her presence.  Most oftentimes the not-yet-teen would traipse into his office-den after hours.  Mike did his best work when the rest of the family had gone to bed.
But he didn’t mind Marsha’s visits.
On one occasion, young not-yet-teen Marsha seemed ansy, unable to stand still as she stood close to him at his drafting table.  At length she leaned on the secondary table, leaning further and further; when Mike took a sly glance at the girl’s rump, he saw panties!

His manhood began to sprout strong and hard.  Often did he think of the girls One-Two-Three as he put it to their lovely cock hungry mother.  Despite dropping three children through her loins, Carol was still a dynamite fuck.  She was just kinky enough to be enticing without being a slut about it.
Was her eldest child the same?
Mike checked the girl’s ass, it was nice.  He checked a lot, too; she was a cutey in the tight jeans she wore—she wore tight jeans and loose fitting and then skirts and dresses, too.  Her chest was budding and he couldn’t wait until she was older.
He also couldn’t wait until he could find some opportunity to stick her!  Was that opportunity sooner than expected?  Was it a trick, a test?  Or something else completely different?  
He then saw Marsha’s fingers clenching up her barely knee length nightgown.  It was a thin garment of which he could easily see her underwear.  Jan and Cindy were the same although Cindy usually wore regular pajamas.
	Marsha clenched up more and more of her think light pink nightgown.  She had debated with herself whether or not to have worn panties.  The lack of undies would have been a sure sign that she was—slutty and willing to give herself to her new daddy.
	Moments were needed before Marsha’s new daddy dropped his hand down to his side.  He sat up a little higher on his chair, but his hand was in the prime area of target (Marsha’s ass.)  
	Marsha moved her ass, pooching it and angling so as it came closer to her new daddy’s dropped hand.  Mike took the offering and brushed his hand against the girl’s ass.  Being the new daddy he had hugged his new children but had been careful not to grab their ass or let his eyes stare at their goodies.
	The ass was soft.  His cock nearly busted out of his pants as his hand moved over the “offering.”  Marsha checked over her shoulder, grinning, blushing, smiling.  Mike caressed the ass and squeezed.  Marsha worked her lavender undies down to further please her new daddy.
	She succeeded.

	After the fondling, Mike reared back and hauled out his schlong.  Marsha stood up, pushing her panties down to her ankles then stepping out of them.  Her eyes locked onto the massive cock of her new daddy.  It was impressive—almost as impressive as the one her biological daddy had had.
	Hmmmm
	“May I touch it?” she had asked.
	Mike gulped, sweated, and opened his legs to expose himself more.  He nodded indicating that she could indeed “touch it.”
	Marsha’s fingers wrapped about his manhood, then expertly she worked the cock into a very pleasing manner.  Mike caressed Marsha’s arm, then shoulder, then her side.  His cock began to throb and pulse…

	The office-den was only one of the places Mike and new daughter Marsha got down and dirty.  They “did it” in the bathroom, garage, his bed, her bed, kitchen table…
	At one point he was once more working on some drawings when Marsha once more was at his side.  She once more leaned as much as she could on the smaller drafting table, inching up her nightgown—to his delight revealing the fact that she wore no undies.
	Then, Jan suddenly appeared at his left side.  She wore a nightgown, as well.  She was ten.  She usually wore a two piece pajama outfit.  She was flat chested, damn cute, and like her sister, Marsha, wore no panties…
	Messing with Marsha was one thing, could he sink so low to mess with Jan, too?   (yeah, he could…)

*

	Greg and Marsha’s injuries were nominal; scratches, sprains, hurtie-owies, etc.  The mysterious healing waters from the tap made the numerous hurtie-owies vanish.  Greg was astounded.  Marsha was a little embarrassed—as she was in the tub naked with a strange man tending to her.
	Understanding and accepting the concept of a New World was not hard, they had heard and paid attention to the news accounts of such odd phenomenon.  They never believed that they themselves would be a part of it.

	Both teens missed their family, they hoped to reconnect with them.  Forrest didn’t have the heart to tell them “good luck” in a sarcastic manner.  Reconnecting with lost family members was next to nil.  But there was always hope.
	Forrest welcomed the newcomers.  There was a bit more to their story, not much, but a bit.  And there, too, were the OTHER two newcomers—Julie and Arnold.

	See ya Chapter 34!