August Moone Sagas
Book 5
Absolution
Chapter 18
Poker in the Front
Liquor in the Rear

The Angle of the Dangle
	“Do you really think there’s another world out there?”
	“Another version?  I dunno, maybe.  Possibly.  Could be?”
	The summer-desert sun sweltered everyone and thing in Castle Rock.  No let up, not for months to come.  Those with swamp coolers only envied those with air conditioners.  Those with air conditioners--didn’t.  Popular hangouts in Castle Rock was the theatre--with indoor cooling via a/c, the ice creamery shoppe, the aquatics center with indoor pool, or someone’s home with air conditioning!
	Using all his stealth possible, Forrest made house entry into a home previously visited--his narly senses had kicked in and a return visit was required.  Skyler accompanied him this time.
	It was a Friday, late in the afternoon--early evening.  Breezy had informed Forrest that her “busy” brother was coming over in a while.  He still had some “business” to tend to.  She didn’t elaborate and it made Forrest a little uneasy.  He liked to know what ALL the cards were before playing them.
	Be that as it may…
	The house returned to was quiet, the air conditioner ran all out.  The big SUV was gone, but the Volvo was parked in the drive.  Someone was home.  (his Narly Senses had never let him down…)
	Skyler had his Contraptions, just in case.  Forrest had yet to tell him about the Exp 0110.  Not really necessary, a guy’s gotta have SOME secrets.  Security reasons, doncha know!?
	The two Sneaks came into the kitchen, via the garage.  It was the easiest unseen entry.  There was a kitchen light on dim and a nite light.  Dishes from a recent dinner were in the sink with some in the dishwasher.  The washer wasn’t on, though, it looked as it had been in the process or something, though.
	There was a kitchen table for informal dinning and then a dinning table for all other uses.  The dinning table had been used that eve, it was cluttered and hadn’t been cleared.  Forrest got an odd to bad feeling.  His Narly Senses, though, assured him great things.  Well, great “narly” things.
	Very careful he and his stalwart companion stole into the inner depths of the house.  He heard sounds, muffled, down the hall.  There was a light on flooding out into the hall.  With extreme stealth and ever the ready to utilize his “implant”, Forrest proceeded.
	Where the light was flooding out of was a bedroom, a master bedroom located at the very end of the hall, on the right.  On the left was a boy’s bedroom.  That door was opened revealing inside a slumbering little girl.  The action, though, wasn’t there but in the master bedroom.
	Here a nude boy lay on top of  nude woman, just sliding in his teenhood.  The woman didn’t stir, she appeared to be “unconscious.”  the boy began a slow steady pace of fucking.
	He turned to the other teen in the room, “See, I fuckin’ told ya it would work!”
	“You’re fucking whacked, dude, totally!”
	The teen sinking his bone into the woman on the bed laughed hideously so and stepped up the pace that was fucking.  Kale locked his arms above his mother, slamming as hard as he could.  The woman never stirred--her mommy sized titties jiggled and Kale fastened his eyes onto them.
	Kale’s friend, Joel, stood carelessly by the bed, gouging himself as he had a terrific boner going.  But, he was mostly staring at his friend’s wondrously nude body--staring at the furiously pumping ass.
	Kale drove home the incestuous bone, slowing his pace now and then before pumping madly to the ultimate sin.  “Fucking bitch, whore!” he cried.  “Ground my fucking ass will ya!” he plowed his mother until she DID show some signs of coming around.
	The boy didn’t care at that point, he pumped faster and faster.
	“Damn, dude!” cried out Joel.
	Kale replied nothing but arched his back as he strained his cock buried in his mother’s quim.  “OH!” he exclaimed suddenly, “Son-of-a-fucking-bitch!”  his ass muscles tightened up and poor Joel was in a fit of agony.  So was Kale.  
	Kale pumped furiously for a few seconds at a time, he was cumming.
	Finally, he had no more to give and relaxed himself.
	“Oooooooh, God-fucking-shit-damn-fuck!” he lay off his mother, cum squirting from his prick.  Joel’s eyes feasted on the cum squirter.  Kale looked to his pal, “Go ahead, dude, have a go, I don’t care.” he fondled his aching squirter, massaging his balls and trying to recover.
	Joel, though, shook his head.  His cock was hard, but not for pussy.
	Kale smiled and rolled his mother to her side, parted an ass cheek, “Okay, fine, bitch--do her there!”
	Joel licked his lips and wandered his eyes about--then slowly pushed his jeans down.  (no underwear).  He climbed onto the bed and briefly rested his pulsing prong onto the woman’s upright hip.
	“Go on, dude, fuck her!” spoke Kale, “Fuck my mother’s ass!”
	Joel blushed and made the “angle of the dangle”.

*

	Joel pumped, but he was not so much into it.  The woman’s backdoor was thankfully pretty tight.  Closing his eyes helped him conjure up someone “else’s” hole he could/should be plugging.
	Kale lay on his back on the other side of the slumbering woman, still playing recovery with his cock & balls.
	“How long will she be like this?” queried the slow pumping Joel.
	“Fuck, I dunno, a couple more hours anyways what they say.”
	“Dude, you are SOOOOOOOOO busted if they ever find out!” he pulled his prick out and guided it up between the woman’s legs, nestling against her furry bush.
	“Nah, from what I hear they take this stuff and conk out and don’t know what hit them.”
	“Still, though,” continued the slightly worried Joel, “it-it could be dangerous.”
	“It’s only dangerous, dip shit, if they do it all the time!”
	Joel sat up and stroked his organ.
	“You finished?” Kale asked.
	“Yeah, kinda.”
	“Too old for ya, huh?”
	Joel giggled and didn’t reply.
	“Welp,” Kale sat leaping up and heading for the door, “I know someone who ISN’T too old for you!” 
	Joel hung tight on the bed, watching his friend leave the room.
	“Damn, what fucking balls!” he whispered to himself.  He patted the woman on the ass and rolled her onto her back, then left the bed and the room and entered Kale’s room.
	Kale stood hammering his slightly flaccid schlong, staring at his deeply-drugged sibling.
	“Y-you ever mess with her?” 
	“A couple of times, nothing too serious, she’d freak and tell mom.”
	“She’s cute.”
	“Yeah, I guess, for a bitch.”
	Joel didn’t reply to that, either.
	“Wont she know if you-you--”
	“Fuck her?” Kale shrugged, “Probably.  But that ten spot missing from Mom’s purse?  I know where it is!” suggesting that he had something on his young sibling…
	“Too bad she’s not a boy, huh,” quipped Kale, “you’d be all over her in a second!” Kale joshed his friend then turned back to his unconscious sister.  “Welp, let’s get to it!”
	With the Daddy out of the house for the weekend on a business trip, and Kale grounded for supposedly smoking pot when he had promised to quit so as he could continue his motocross career--Kale sought vengeance on the Queen of Bitchdom.
	The popular thrash, mosh, and rave drug honympheral making the desert community circuit found its way to Kale’s hands.  He sacrificed a whole month’s allowance--which was suspended indefinitely until he passed an in-home drug test of which he refused--and his Dad supported.  So that ended his motocross career.  No test, no motocross.
	Fine, then, thought Kale--Fuck Me--Fuck You!
	And he did.
	With his Dad out of town, drugging his mother was going to be made all the easier.  His sister was supposed to have spent the night at a friend’s, but the girl went out of town with her parents--so the sibling was, too, an unfortunate victim of Kale’s vengeance package.
	The honympheral drug came as a powder, a translucent pill, and as a liquid (when the powder/pill was heated in a spoon.)  It was easily dumped & mixed into a soda or any beverage.  The dinner at the Mason house was boneless pork chops, mac & cheese, spinach, Mexican cornbread, cherry ice cream cobbler and ice cold milk.
	Half an hour after consuming said milk, the Victims were passed out cold and ready for “victimizing” vengeance.  Kale seemed to have no qualms whatsoever about boning his mother.  None, either, in concerns for his young sibling!
	The girl’s shoes and socks were removed and then slowly down came her jeans.  It was getting darker outside, a breeze rustling up, a pending storm pending.  The drapes in Kale’s room were drawn tight, the only light was from his fish aquarium and a nite light by the door, the bedside table digital readout.
	Joel stood mid way into the room, masturbating.  He had seen glimpses of the young tyke naked, dashing from bathroom to her room.  He had seen her mostly in her swimsuits.  But, he still preferred boys…
	Kale paused only momentarily as he had his sister in her underwear.  He parted her legs and scooted up, resting his teenhood against her.  She was too young to have pubes, but she had a nice “mound” just the same.  Kale rubbed himself on the outside of the girl’s panties.  Slowly he ran his hands up and down her naked chest, tweaking her nipples.  His cock grew intense.  He licked his lips and went down on her--sucking on her pert little nipples.

	Amber’s legs went up her brother’s bare rugged chest, her panties of lavender were rolled up to her feet and then cast off.  The brother stared down to the perfect pussy.  It was virginal.  (but not for long)  Kale’s cock creamed itself, oozing orgasmic juices in anticipation of breeching a virgin’s hymen.  
	“Dude, you really gonna do it?” asked friend Joel out of concern.
	“Why the fuck not?” she’s part of the package…
	Joel didn’t answer just shrugged his shoulder.  He’d still rather pork a boy.  Kale rest his cock on his sister’s slit, grinding himself up and down, forcing the head in between her “lips” and gliding the bulbous tip up and down.

	There seemed to be a change if subtle in Kale’s desired to “stuff” his sister.  He humped on her, but not IN her.  There was spillage of his liquid love.  It was enough.  He grinded as hard as he could against the child’s cunny; with her legs up along his chest he took a turn at probing her virgin asshole--but his cock was softening and …
	Turning his head he smiled at his buddy, “Come here, bitchwad.” he jested.  Timidly and slightly reluctantly the ‘bitchwad’ complied.
	Joel crawled onto the bed and went down--on Amber, licking her cum laden cunny clean and sucking on Kale’s cum squirter that was right there, too.  Kale smacked his friend’s ass and soon he was hard again.  Joel positioned himself to be between Amber’s legs, his cock riding against her pussy.  Kale positioned himself behind the friend and drove his prick up his ass.
	Soon, Joel repositioned the little girl under him, her legs up along HIS chest, his cock poking seriously into her asshole.  He DID wish Amber was a boy, though…

Shenanigans
	Parting the dark curtains just so and peeking out he saw a not too tall man climbing out of a beat up old four-door late model pickup.  The man dusted himself off, pulled at his balls and made for the house.
	“I’m guessing that’s your brother.” Forrest said.
	“Crap.” said Breezy.  She shook her head slowly and sadly, “SOme timing, huh?”
	Forrest shrugged and tugged on his cum dripping cock.  He had just completed a good shag with the odd young desert dwelling woman, he seemed to be in no particularly hurry to dress.  Breezy slid out of her bed and pulled up her jeans and slipped on a top.
	Forrest pulled up some clothes but made no bones about being hurried or concealing the fact of what had taken place.  He was still horny from his earlier outing and made mental notes to return to Mason house and see what ELSE was transpiring.
	Coming into the living room minutes behind Breezy, Forrest was introduced to the desert dweller’s brother, Cole.  (natch!)
	A likeable chap, a little nervous and shifty, small eyes, wiry.
	Breezy’s offered him a beer and they all sat down.  The kids were all present--and all naked.  Aimee and Lucy not too keen on the newest newcomer came to sit flanking Forrest.  The boys remained with the others playing video games.  Shannon and Tamara sat together nearby the naked kids, naked themselves.  Skyler was in a bedroom sacking out, Jake sat on the sofa with Forrest and the girls afore mentioned.
	Breaking the ice, Breezy cleared her throat subtly and one of her boys, Oscar came to her.  She patted his butt during a hug then proceeded to tug on his little pecker.  Juke was deeply involved in a video game.
	Forrest put his arm about Aimee and drew her across his lap, her bareness aimed at Cole.  Forrest didn’t make eye contact but patted the girl’s butt--then began a tedious bout of probing her anus.
	It got the attention of Cole.  The man licked his lips and stared.  Forrest patted Aimee’s ass, pulled the cheeks open then nodded to Oscar who happily obliged, stepping over and applying his young prong to the girl’s cornhole.  Aimee tensed up just a little but took the intrusion just the same.
	Jake slid over on the sofa, his cock hard.  Aimee took the proposed offering and began working it.  Jake angled himself and Aimee began sucking it.  Cole watched all in some sort of awe.

	With more subtle throat clearing, young’uns Molly and Bailey came to Uncle Cole’s lap and were lightly molested if not fondly fondled.  Jake pumped frantically into Aimee’s mouth and finally exploded therein.  He was a little pent up.  Aimee spat out most of the goo, retched and coughed, too.
	Oscar pumped into her ass until he himself was spent, he hadn’t cum, though.  He returned to playing the video game, Juke came to lick out the girl’s bum crack then fuck it with his little Chinese dick.

	Aimee snuggled onto Forrest’s lap, his cock was ready to explode.
	“I gotta go.” the girl whispered.  Forrest nodded, arose and carried the youngster to the hall bathroom.  While she did her business, Forrest took the prime opportunity to drop his pants and haul out his meat.  Aimee willingly took it to hand and then to mouth.
	Just as he was cumming, Cole came carrying Molly upside down.  The girl was sucking on his bone, giggling and laughing as he was tickling.  “I gotta pee!” the girl was squealing.
	Cole paused a moment to watch Forrest cumming into Aimee’s mouth.  He pulled out and shot the rest of his load down the young girl’s chest.  He scooped her up and stood back, sitting on the bathtub edge.  Cole stepped into the bathroom and threatened al la kiddingly into the toilet where Aimee had just been, and left some “floaters“--the toilet hadn’t been flushed.
	When the girl finally was righted and sat on the toilet, Forrest saw the naked man’s naked willy.  It was kinda--tiny.  Childlike, despite the man being a few years older than 20 year old Breezy.
	Hmmmm
	Forrest didn’t stare but caressed Aimee by tickling her.  She did lighten up and became a little more friendlier.  Molly farted, pooped, and peed.  Cole stuffed her mouth (again) with his puddling and fucked her mouth for several minutes.  He didn’t cum, though.
	Forrest saw, too, the man had very small testicles.  Very small.

	In the living room, Breezy was being triple teamed with Oscar pounding her pussy, Jake up her ass, and Barry in her mouth.  The others were back to playing the team video game.  Lucy lay curled up on the sofa not a willing participant.
	She eventually was--she had no choice.

Shit Happens

	In the listlessly air there was a slight pungent lingering smell of marijuana.  Forrest figured Kale was probably back to his old habit.  Things wee getting stretched.  Too thinly he supposed.  Again, his thoughts were of fleeing.  To be on his own.
	His thoughts were interrupted with the presence of Cole.
	“Sorry, dindn’t mean to intrude.” the young man said.
	“No problem, just--just sitting here taking it in.”
	The man who was about to return into the house of his sister paused.  The backdrop of Breezy’s house led out to a great expanse of desert.  During the day it was broken by boulders and a few trees.  The land was not perfectly flat, either.  There were mesas and plateaus in the distance, ridges to one side, a river…
	Cole squatted down, he had a small glass of something strong to drink.  He was clothed as was Forrest--if only their pants.  For a long few moments silence reigned supreme.  Then a coyote yapped way in the distance, the dark gloomy clouds above parted and there was the moon.  Forrest thought of Eddie back at Nancy’s--he was probably out roaming the neighborhood--fencing.
	“Cute kids.” Cole said breaking the ice trying for a subject.
	“Thanks, I like ‘em.” Forrest replied chuckling a little.
	“I-I sort of “collect” them myself.”
	“Me too.” Forrest decreed.  “I get rid of some and then…”
	“Me too!”
	“Do you make a business of it?” not meaning to pry or imply…
	“Yeah, I do.”
	Oh.
	Desert living was fine an’ all, but a pain in the ass.  It was cheap living but both brother and sister team desired to be elsewhere--Breezy wanted to be at the beach, brother Cole wanted to be at least 6,000 feet up in the mountains.
	“an’ all it takes is money!” 
	Forrest declined explaining about the Seth and the New Digs.  Not yet anyways.  Seth was already a little rubbed by the advent of Noah and his kids and the “associates” therein.  They were getting along, though.
	“Do you have--contacts?” Cole asked.
	Forrest figured he wasn’t talking about eyewear.
	“Yeah, a few.” sort of.
	“Me, too.”
	More silence, save for the lone coyote.
	“Do you trade ’em or let ’em go, or what?”
	Forrest mulled, “Well, generally let them go, I get my use out of them.” keep a few and leave some here and there…
	Cole nodded his head, he heard that.
	“Hard to keep them in line, though, some of them, huh?”
	“A little hard discipline straightens them right out.” Forrest explained.  He wasn’t about to tell him about his implant or Skyler’s Contraptions.  None of his fucking business!
	“Yeah, discipline is good.”
	Forrest felt the man was “fishing.”
	“Do you find it--I mean, how easy do you get ’em?”
	‘What am I, the fucking information man?’  Forrest rolled a shoulder, “Well, some are easier than others.”  how was that for an answer?
	Cole shut up, shifted his squatting stance.  
	Someone was in the kitchen, by the perfume, it was Breezy.
	“What’s going on, boys?”
	“Shootin’ it.” Cole said.  He stood, stretched and went back into the house.  Breezy lingered at the open door.  Eventually she sat beside him.
	“Don’t mind him,” she said, “he’s--he’s--”
	“Mr. Quiz Master?”
	Breezy giggled and nodded.
	“He always like that?”
	“No, just the business we’re in--and meeting someone else--”
	“Like me?”
	“Yah, like you, I-I dunno, maybe he’s looking for a partner, a better one or something.”
	“What, uh, sort of “business” ARE you in?”
	It was Breezy’s turn to fall silent.  
	“Sorry.” Forrest said, intruding too deep in a personal (business) matter.  He knew he could get the info one way or another, but he didn’t prefer to pursue it that way.  Not yet.
	“We--we make movies.” Breezy said.  She drew her knees up and rested her chin on them.
	Movies.  Kiddie porn.  Seemed like a growing trend.
	“Cool.” Forrest said.  “I’ve done that, helps fatten the wallet.”
	Breezy didn’t reply.
	The coyote howling seemed to have gotten closer.  The clouds concealed the moon, the temperature dropped (but got muggy).  Lightning could be seen “flashing” in the distant mountains.  Forrest stretched and fought back the urge to break wind.  It’d spoil the moment.
	“You wanna join us?” Breezy said at length.
	“Join?”
	“Yeah, your kids, ours, others--”
	“Others?”
	“Cole has some back at his place.”
	Forrest nodded.
	“We make a pretty good profit, you could keep your kids an’ all.”
	She seemed suddenly uncharacteristically nervous.  Marijuana once more filled the air.  
	“What do you do with your kids--when you’re done with them?” Forrest asked point blankly.
	“Most we drive to the City.”
	“Most?”
	She sighed, “Some we take out to the desert, a couple places we know.”
	“And leave them?”
	Breezy gulped.  “Sometimes.”
	“Any of them make it back?” to civilization.
	Breezy shrugged.
	“Is that a problem for you?” Breezy asked curiously.
	“Nope.” then, “Shit happens.”
	“Whattya mean?”
	Forrest furled his lips and sat back.  Farted, stretched out his long legs, then yawned, “Well, couple of times--things went too far and--well, you know, shit happens.”
	“They died?”
	Forrest with lips furled and looking glum slowly and sadly nodded his head.  “Yeah.” he breathed slowly.
	“Sorry.”
	“Shit happens.” 

The Collection
	The thought had crossed his mind--several times.  Along with the urge to head Midwest to his cousins.  The green tornado phenomenon was still going on, but apparently didn’t care to fuck with the desert areas and stayed clear.  Breezy was good interest and a reason to hang tight.  So was Nancy, she was stable and lived in a nice neighborhood.  Breezy lived in the desert and had no plans to leave it--until she had a fat enough wallet to support her at a beach.
	Forrest wasn’t a desert dweller and didn’t really care for apartment living, either.  Castle Rock had only apartments available--but then, there were those trailer homes scattered out along the Slope.
	The Slope was a tract of landscape butted up against a long sweeping slope of red clay and other desert fauna to some rocky ridges stretching several miles long.  
	None of the 20 or so trailer homes scattered in that area were appealing to Forrest.  None.  Some were indeed better than others--some.  Some were double wide, extra long, and had decent yards.  Forrest, though, preferred trees--green grass for a yard instead of sand or what passed for sand…
	And the climate, too--a big factor.  Forrest was not a desert dweller.
	Cole and Breezy weren’t really desert dwellers themselves, not really.  It was just where they wound up and decided to make a go of it.  The City was a nix-nix and neither really cared for “country” life.  Small towns and such had too many neighbors getting into your business.  Desert dwelling folks cared less and kept to themselves to keep cool.
	Cole dwelled just a couple of miles out of Castle Rock, it just seemed longer due to the unmantained road, the ruts, the “canyons” the dodging boulders and small unwary non-caring critters (the biped type) and blowing dust.
	The outside of the trailer home was in better condition than the interior!  “make yourself at home!” Cole had said as they entered.  Jake and Skyler were watching over the kiddies at Breezy’s place, so it was only Forrest and Breezy along.
	Breezy went immediately to the bathroom--the bumpy roads were none too kind a body’s bladder system.  Forrest gave the inside of the trailer the once over, he saw some discarded panties here and there, other kiddie style pants and training bras.  A major security breech, Forrest would have all signs of his “business” buried, burned, or blasted into space.
	He took the offering of a beer, Breezy was handed one as she returned from the bathroom, zipping up.  “It’s not much,” Cole made mention, “but it’ll do until I can get something better.”
	“Like what?” Forrest asked just off the cuff.
	“Oh, I dunno--”
	“A palatial mansion?” chided Breezy.
	“Yeah!” smirked back Cole.
	Actually, not that far off, but someplace really remote, limited access.  Multi rooms, high security.  It was why he (Cole) wanted something in the mountains.  A huge log cabin or something like.
	Sipping his beer, Forrest looked over the home once more.  Soooo, where were the kiddies?

	Some people collect rocks (really, they do.)  Some people collect cars, motorcycles, and even airplanes.  Some people collect stamps, exotic animals, and guns.
	Cole collected kids.
	Young kids.
	He had a knack, a penchant, a determination.
	He had a manner in which to make his “acquisitions” as well as a strong desire.  There was a desire of sexual gratification as well as a financial one.  With the kiddies and his sex drive satisfied, there was the making of “movies” of which garnered him his path to that mountain top palatial log cabin mansion.
	Cole stepped over to the area between the bar stools and the living room.  A work desk cluttered with papers and dying plants was against the warped paneled wall.  There was a sickly green tiled floor from the bar/kitchen counter to the area were the well worn dark forest green carpeting lay.  Cole peeled back the carpet and vinyl to reveal what appeared to be a trap door.
	An interior light flickered to life revealing wrought iron stairs.  They went down some 8-feet.  A “room” was here, corrugated walls, cement poured floor.  There was a toilet against a wall, a dangling light, a fan circulating air, a small television with VCR and a ton of video tapes.
	And oh yeah, as many as a dozen children!
	The youngest seemed to be about three or four--the oldest no more than ten. Girls and boys.  All naked.  There were bedding of various sorts, bunks and mattresses.  The children all looked up as Cole, their Master, and his “associates” ventured in.
	Cole was serious about his business of child porn.  He had clientele who preferred “younger” children performing various sex acts--on themselves, each other, and adults.  To some of Cole’s elite clients, the younger the better. 
	He had clients, too, who desired “older” children, but Cole had a problem obtaining them.  
	“How come?” Forrest asked of Breezy on their way out to Cole’s.
	 “Older kids resist better, they’re stronger.”  then, “Cole has a device, an ability that helps him make his acquisitions.”	
	“Oh?” then, “A lot of that going around.”
	“Do you have one?”
	Forrest paused, wrinkled his nose and held onto his belly to keep his bladder from bouncing out on the rough road.
	“Well, yeah, sorta.” then, “Don’t use it much, kinda tapering off, gave me a headache.”  then, “What kind does Cole use?”
	“It’s his watch.”
	“Come again?”
	“He has his wrist watch, it uses a high density light to stun or blind the child’s mind.  It’s only temporary but it’s enough time to make the grab.”

	Good looking kids they were.  Two of which were Chinese, boys.  The rest average white kids from basic average families.  Forrest looked them over with an approving nod.  He didn’t see any “marks” on them, but the kids obviously feared the Master--and deftly obeyed him regardless.
	And Forrest was awed that Breezy was so approving--most women weren’t.  
	“I’ve to make a couple more thirty minute movies.” Cole said.  Then it was time for a “new batch” and set the current group loose out in the desert!  
	“May I ask, how much you make per thirty minute film?”
	“Well,” Cole drawled and stretched, Breezy fussed about the kitchen cleaning and making grilled cheese sandwiches, it was a staple food for the Stars in the Basement.  (Cole’s recent acquisitions, Penny, Allen, Margo, were there, too.)  “Five thousand is the average.”
	Forrest nodded.  He had “contacts” too, in the City.  The City, though, he was avoiding as he was wanted by the MOB.  But there were others, Seth had contacts.
	“I know some clients, way north of us, who go for such treats.  They pay more.”
	“Yeah?” chirped Breezy butting in.
	“Oh yeah,” Forrest replied, “quite a bit more.” then, “I know some people in distant and remote mining operations, out of country people working alone in desolate areas who pay big money for…” he let it go as it was a given.
	“Like, how much money are we talking?” Cole had to ask.
	“Well, three to four times as much as you’re getting.”
	Cole’s face dropped, so did his sister.
	“No shit?” Breezy asked.
	“No shit.” Forrest replied.
	Forrest didn’t want to upset or undermine what Cole was doing or getting paid for his efforts.  Just stating fact.
	“We really need to go into business together.” Breezy piped in.
	Forrest gushed a little, Cole fidgeted some.
	“It’s a growing trend,” Forrest amended, “some of my contacts, clients--they have some qualms over really young stuff.  They like the older ones for some weird ass moralistic issue.”
	“Older ones are harder to get.” Cole stated.
	“I have a few, and--I can get more.” 
	Cole looked to him.  Forrest nodded.  “It’s a knack, if not a curse.” he tapped his noggin.  He didn’t know why he was letting out his secret, he just did.
	Breezy carried a plate of sandwiches to the dungeon.  Forrest explained that the government had fucked up and implanted a micro chip in his brain.  Something went wrong and he could utilize the chip to his whim and will.
	Cole explained his wrist watch.  (Breezy had already explained it but Forrest let him rattle.)
	“I think we can make beautiful music together,” Forrest said sitting back in his rickety dull chrome kitchen chair, “You get the young ones, I get the older ones--”
	“Blend them together and…”
	The two men smiled and nodded.
	Sounds like a plan!

Snatches & Grabs
	Ridgecrest; an applicable name for the desert town nestled up against a 1,000 foot ridge of broken jutting desert rock.  The place didn’t get a lot of rain, the clouds that could bring rain were held back by the nearby mountains and ridges.  It was a “go-between” town of moderate size; a naval installation (air craft) was nearby along with a testing center.  Two hours north and one entered into luscious pines a small town and an Indian casino.
	Further north another hour was a stateline resort town hosting another casino.  Way south was a bustling major metropolis.  So Ridgecrest got a lot of thru-traffic.
	With the Naughty Laws of the Land being rescinded, the presence of National Guard and other assorted law enforcing agencies were present, on the look-out for those still yearning for naughtiness.  This made things more difficult.
	Not impossible--just difficult.
	Some possible “prospects” were passed over as they were deemed dangerous to pursue for many various reasons.  Cole picked them out, but Forrest waved them off--pointing out the clutch of parental units, a nearby police officer, and new on the market--electronic devices that alerted parents when a child wandered off too far; the receiver that the parent had would sound off and…
	Cole, Breezy, and Forrest roamed about the desert city to various locales popular with the younger set.  
	“You know,” commented Breezy, “it’d be easier if we were like them.”
	“Huh?” asked her brother Cole.
	“I just mean, we’re automatically suspected anyplace we go, but if we were the kids’ age and size and all--”
	“Ah.”
	Forrest nodded his head in agreement.  ‘Good point.’
	Restaurants, ice creameries, pizzerias, parks, after school sponsored school programs--sports or otherwise, the mall, mini mall, arcade, and bus stops.  All likely places to abscond with a Target Subject.  Many were sighted, but due to mitigated circumstances--they were passed on.  They were kept in mind, but passed on just the same.
	“Of course, there’s always spying.” Forrest made mention--this after hours of driving around with no luck in acquisitions. 
	“Spying?” Breezy asked.
	“Yeah, it’s a thing I do.”

Happenstance of Opportunities
	Of course, that was subject to change without notice.  All about the desert city they roamed and while filling the tank up of Breezy’s ride, a happenstance of opportunities came to be.  Getting service, too, was a large extended van nearby at an island.  There was a mess of kids.  A mess of them!  The youngest were no more than eight years with the oldest topping at about fifteen.  Perfect!  A good mix with nine girls, five boys.  Perfect!
	One teen boy checked the oil and water and belts, a nice looking about fourteen or so.  A lovely boy, very helpful--with a casual wandering eye to the one woman of the group and a few of the young girls bustling about.  Some of the older teen girls were in control (sort of) of the younger kids, corralling them and fetching drinks and other assorted snacks.
	A sign there was on the van’s side, giving it away as a church van.
	Both Breezy and brother Cole were deep in desire for the group, any one of them, or two, or all.  Breezy had pulled her rig up to the island of pumps right across from the church van.  Forrest was “busy” and not seen.
	Cole fiddled with the engine of Breezy’s car, checking oil and water, just killing time.  Breezy filled the truck’s tank and waited for the Unseen Forrest…
	Forrest was “suddenly” sitting in Breezy’s truck, smiling and nodding, “Let’s go.”

	Though it was hot, damn hot, the church van was out on an excursion, and they were “excursioning” out of town to a few miles down the road.  A mile or so behind traveling just below speed, Breezy’s Blazer followed.
	“What’s out this way anyone would want to go to?” Forrest asked.
	“Meadowlark Meadows, thirty miles off this road towards the mountains for one.  Mostly a lot of roads just going all over the place.” replied Cole.
	“There’s some ancient ruins of the Indians and a small western town, a mining town--their foundations are still there anyways but no one lives there.”
	“Jawbone Canyon’s out this way, too.” Cole made mention.
	“Jawbone Canyon?”
	“Yeah, not much of a canyon really, it’s a big washout river bed with crappy dirt roads on each side going out to the base of Gold Mountain, kinda popular with the off roaders and campers.”
	“Lot’s of people about?”
	“Nah, not really, hit and miss.”
	Forrest frowned, he’d prefer “miss.”

	The Target turned onto a dirt road and kicked up a bunch of dust behind it.  “Jawbone Canyon it is.” Breezy said.  Forrest read the sign, too, as Breezy turned the Blazer onto the road, still following the van.
	“Got a date?” Breezy asked of Forrest, he had been semi nervously almost checking his watch.  He shook his head and kept his eyes on the dust cloud ahead.
	“This canyon was kinda popular back in the 60s, lots of wigged out hippies and others came out here.” Breezy gave a history lesson.
	The Itchee Indians were out here, too; but they all but “vanished.” Cole added.
	Forrest held onto his seat as he got jostled pretty good by the notorious rough road.  
	“The US Government was interested in this area a long time ago, they had some sort of installation out here, don’t know where but--”
	“Are they still out here?” Forrest asked curiously--if not alarmingly.
	“Nah, we used to see their government vehicles in town all the time but over the years like the Itchees, vanished!”
	Hmmmm  things that make you go, hmmmm

	The road they traveled was juxtaposed between fifty foot crumbly hillside and ten foot straight drop off to a dry riverbed.  The road was narrow, rutted, pot holes big enough to swallow the Blazer whole; and there, too, was the dodging of dislodged boulders.
	“Oh,” said Breezy,
	“What?”
	“There’s a turn up here, ‘bout another mile or so.”
	“And”
	“If she turns left, she’s heading up to the campground.  If she stays straight, she’s heading out to the Shoe.”
	“What’s the Shoe?”
	“Horseshoe Canyon, kinda of a popular hangout.  Indian artifacts used to be found all over the area there, and shark’s teeth.  Indian drawings on the rocks and walls, there’s some caves there and ten hundred abandoned cars.”
	“And the campground?”
	“Could be someone there, its seven miles up a winding road, it’s a wide road but no guard rails and all up hill.”
	“Good campground, though.” Cole added, “A few tables with barbeque pits and stuff.  A couple of bathrooms, too.”
	“Running water, too, from a nearby creek.  Lots of trees and its kinda nice--just a bitch to get to and hardly anyone knows it’s there.”
	“Well, THEY know it’s there.” said Forrest, the driver of the van made the left turn.

	“Any other road up there?”
	“Not that I know of.”
	“No back roads or fire roads?”
	Breezy shrugged, she didn’t believe so.  Forrest had her pull into the shade ant the base of the long winding road--and park it.
	“Don’t like dust?” chortled Breezy.
	“Not that,” Forrest quipped back, “she’s itchin’ for a breakdown, I want the dust to settle and us not to be in sight to give her the creeps.”
	“Best surprise is to be a surprise.” Cole muttered.
	“Yep.” Forrest said giving his best cowboyish drawl.

Sting like a butterfly my ass!

	Forrest checked his watch (again), tapped it, popped/cracked his neck then nodded to Breezy, “Okay, been enough time, let’s go.”
	As Breezy fired the truck up again-- “Put it in low and crawl up.” Forrest suggested.
	Breezy shrugged and did as asked.  
	Each wide sweeping turn they made they all careened their heads to see more of the road ahead.  With the blinding sun crashing into the cab, it was difficult enough just to see the road.
	The Blazer creeped along at ten miles per…
	They made a switchback and then the long-long climb up to the next long sweeping turn.  The sun was no longer a factor as the mountain was finally blocking out the noonday brightness.  The air was just beginning to get cooler, too.
	At the apex of the long sweeping turn, “There!” Breezy shouted out.
	At the switchback of the upper level the suspect-target van was off to one side, hood up.  Forrest smiled.  Along the dirt-rocky road was a trial of vital engine fluids.  A handy-dandy pen knife always comes in handy--always.

	“Go on up to them,” Forrest said, “I’ll be along directly.”
	“Going someplace?” Cole asked suspiciously-cautiously.
	“Being sneaky, it’s what I do.”
	Forrest exited the Blazer, Breezy put it back in gear and slowly moved on.  Forrest faded into the rocky hillside.

	The rocks were unkind.  They were sharp, crumbly, dangerous, and mostly hot.  Amid the jutting geologically bound igneous surfaces; mostly shale and sandstone with granite thrown in to cut his hands.
	This was almost a good idea.
	Then of course there, too, was the various shrubbery to contend with.
	There was no trial to seek out, Forrest climbed up to an area whereas he could scooted along and get as close as possible to the Subject-Target as he could to enact his “specialty.”
	He slipped and felt the sharpness of a jagged jutting rock slice into his thigh.  It hurt.  A lot.  But not as much as the sudden sharp infliction to his hand.  Too late did he hear the “rattle.”
	Best laid plans--fucked!

	All his military training nearly fled him as two areas of his body were in extreme duress.  This was not good.  No, not good at all.  His toes curled in his boots, his asshole clenched tight, his balls tightened up.  Quickly he wrapped the meaty area of his hand with a bandana, he was miles and miles away from the nearest snake bite venom serum. 
	With no first-aid kit on him, and not likely in Breezy’s Blazer, it was the ole Cut & Suck method.  Once again, the hand-dandy pen knife came in handy.  The rattler had gone off, Forrest had stirred it up when he slipped on the slope of the hill and disturbed the slithering lizard while it rested under the eve of one of the rocks that also cut into Forrest’s thigh.
	The bandana he secured about his wrist, but not too tight.  The bite wound had two punctures into the meat area of his hand opposite the thumb.  He could feel the poison and see the swelling already beginning.  With a campground in the area, forests and all, would there be, too, a forest ranger’s station?
	He doubted it--he couldn’t have that luck.
	He hoped his training would win out and he would be able to stave off snake bite delirium--that just wouldn’t do.  Though it was hot--damn hot, he got a “grip” of himself and made the critical cut across the main wound area, then proceeded to suck.
	Sucking the venom out was no problem even sucking it into a person’s mouth, it could even be (accidentally) ingested without mishap.  Temporarily, he forgot about the rip in his thigh flesh.  He had more pressing problems.
	A wafting of cooling breezes helped soothe him, some.  He needed medical aid, water, and a better plan than to try and be sneaky on a rocky hillside he was not familiar with.
	“Fuck the sneaky shit.” he bitched to himself, Plan A was out and there was no Plan B.  Fuck it.  He scooted mostly on his butt, small rocks and twigs impacting his mostly virgin asshole.
	Finally at the road, no more than twenty feet from where he had been let out, he scrambled stumbling towards the Blazer.  The heat and poison took their toll and he fell.
	Not good.  No, not good at all.

*

	Ice picks.  Cold, electrified ice picks.  About a million of them.
	Bees.  Bees, wasps, hornets, and ten jillion other buzzing insects.
	“Thought you could do it, huh?” a deep bassy voice broke thru the cacophony of the electrified ice picks and buzzing insects.
	“Thought your sorry ass could escape, huh?”
	“There’s no escape, you slimeball.”
	“We’re gonna do you and do you GOOD!”
	BLAM!  BLAM!  KA-BLAM!
	Forrest’s body jerked and twitched.
	“He’s convulsing!” shouted a voice.
	“Hold him down!” spoke another.
	A brilliant bright light shone brightly into his mind, piercing his eyes.  Wads of cotton had obviously been stuffed into his mouth.  His hands and feet were “bound”, tingling incessantly by the repeated torture of the electrified ice chilled ice picks.  The rest f his body was treated to the stings of the buzzing insects.
	Vinny the Mooch leaned over, his huge misshapen head blocking the piercing light.  “Hey, boy, welcome back!” he grinned.  His hot breath reeked of onion soup and Tequila.  “Lemme pound him, boss!” sneered Vinny, he pounded his huge hairy fist into one another, he wore brass knuckles on one hand, huge jewelry on the other.
	“Let me take a couple whacks at ‘im, boss,” spoke up another voice looming out of the darkness just beyond the light.  Dirk Fletcher, the SouthSide Mauler stepped up closer.  He was a huge bulk of a man, dark turtleneck shirt, gray blazer, pug face.
	“Let’s ALL pound him!” spoke up yet ANOTHER voice, “Tiny.”  the ex-longshoreman who had used a forklift to crashed/stab his boss and Tiny’s girlfriend as they made love in the boss’ office.
	“Yeah!” chirped up the Mauler, “We’ll pound his sorry ass so hard his own mudda wont recognize ‘em!”
	“Oh I will, too!” shouted defiantly a pudgy big chested woman.  She came out of the shadows clutching her seashell purse she had gotten when at the beach--Forrest had been about five at the time.
	“M-mom!?”
	“How could you, Forry, how could you turn your back on your friends?” and she brought the heavy seashell bag down hard onto his face.
	Forrest tried to fend off his mother’s attack, but Vinny, the Mauler, and Tiny held him firm.  “Get ‘im, Ma!” shouted Tiny.
	“MA!” shouted Forrest.  He struggled and struggled, choked and shot bolt upright.
	“Shit!” he yelled, “Sweet-sorry-son-of-a-fucking-bitchwad SHIT!”

	Many eyes laid on him at his outburst.
	A minute or so was needed to regain his composure.  He felt flush, ill, something terrible was going on in his belly--his intestines.  The taste of a good whiskey would be good about now…
	“If your Mom ever caught you cussing like that, she’d probably pound you!”
	“W-what!?” Forrest blinked his eyes hard, shook his head and turned to see a 5’9”, 135 lbs. woman with blond hair/blue eyes staring at him.  She was sweet looking, hair back in a single pony tail, lovely face, lovely eyes.
	His eyes held firm on her face for a moment, then dropped down to take in the fact that she was in uniform.  A green uniform.  Almost US Military style--before they changed to camouflage dress.
	 A Bain was written/inscribed on a brass nametag.  On the other side of the green fatigue uniform shirt--US RANGER.
	Ah.
	Looking around, he saw trees.  BIG trees.  A waft of cool air brushed his face, natural air.  He still felt a little ill and so he fell back onto the cot he was on.  Someone pressed a cold washrag on his face.
	“That was close.” spoke the woman.
	Seeing the “Oh?” in Forrest’s eyes, “You were bitten by a rattler, do you remember?  Your friends brought you in.”
	“W-where the f--uhm, where are--w-where am--what?”
	Deeply confused.  Typical, though.
	“Your going to be fine,” continued the woman, “you had a high fever by the time they got you here.”
	“Where’s here?”
	“Gold Mountain Station.” the only one in the area.
	Forrest closed his eyes.  When he did, he shot them open again, the room had begun to spin around and he heard the buzzing of the bees.
	“It’s going to be a little while longer, I’ve called for an ambulance but they might not be able to get up here--the roads aren’t that good for a city vehicle.  My partner’s over at another station trying to get their 4-wheel ambulance going--” she began to rattle on and on and on--typical woman.
	“…so if not then we’ll wait until morning, you’re showing signs of improvement so I think you’ll pull thru this okay and we’ll take you into town in the morning.” yada yada yada…
	Cool water came to his lips, his eyes were heavy.  His back hurt, his thigh felt like it was on fire.  He saw Breezy at his side.
	“Hi there.” he meekly managed to blurt out.
	“You scared the crap out of us.” she told him.  Forrest managed a meek smile, then closed his eyes again.

*

	How long he slept--he didn’t know.  He awoke time and again for more “visits” from Vinny and the “boys.”  Each time he found Breezy and Ranger A Bain at his side.  
	“How are you feeling?” asked one of them, he wasn’t sure which.
	“I’ve been better.” he didn’t know if he actually spoke words or what.
	“You’re looking better.” smiled one of them, he thought Breezy.
	“My hair hurts.” he replied.
	Some soup and fresh made tea helped.  It was dark out, but early morning arriving.  The soup helped; the tips of his fingers and toes were feeling better--along with the rest of his bod.  
	“I think we got the anti-venom in you just in time.” smiled Ranger Bain.  Forrest looked upon her, she was nice.  Damn nice.
	Coming around more and more, Forrest looked to Breezy.  Strong feeling swelled again within him.  “Where’s the others?” 
	“Cole’s at the campground with the others.” she smiled.
	Forrest rolled his shoulder, he didn’t care for being in such a situation--one of which he was not in control.  But he was regaining himself more and more.  
	‘You’d look better--naked.’ Forrest said directing his desire to A Bain.
	The ranger woman shook her head, blinked her eyes, stared at Forrest a second or two, then stood and began undoing her uniform top.  Forrest nodded his head, Breezy was confused.
	‘It’s a gift.’ Forrest said to Breezy.  He didn’t know if he could actually communicate with her, she stared at him, shaking her head as if to clear it. “What?” she said allowed.
	‘Did you hear me?’
	“Yes?”
	‘Don’t answer aloud, just in your mind.’
	“Is this--” then, ‘Is this your “implant” thing?’
	‘In the words of the younger set, “Yeppers!”’
	‘Cool!’

	Amanda Bain stood butt bare assed naked.  She was a lovely thirty-two year old, lovely blond, sweet-sweet gal, good complexion all around, all over.  A nicely trimmed bush, too.  Forrest noted Breezy “admiring” the gal, too!
	Forrest was naked himself, just under a sheet.  His thigh wound had been tended to, it still hurt and he chastised himself for his mistake.  He should have not tried to be sneaky and just went along with Breezy & Cole.  But he couldn’t go back now…
	Continuing to work on the woman’s mind, Forrest directed her to “mount” him.  He lacked sufficient strength to actually do much, so he was to let the ranger woman do most of the work.  He angled his hardness up as she settled down upon him.  She was unmarried but had a so-so boyfriend in town.  She had lost her virginity at the tender age of 16.  No brothers, three sisters.  She had never been molested in any way, she sort of (Forrest found by digging deeper into her mind) desired to be gang banged--a secret desire that was just a fantasy.  With the advent of the recent sexual revolution that had taken, the desire was a very close possibility.
	But working odd hours in a ranger tower kinda nipped the possibility of getting dicked multiple times.  Although, she HAD a cohort who was keen on her.  He was a bit of a dweeb, though--pudgy, and just not her style.
	Forrest plunged his prong into the woman’s poon, hands on her hips he eased her up and down.  Her pussy clenched tightly about his cock, his eyes fastened on her lovely-simply fucking lovely hooters.
	Breezy stripped off her clothes and joined in!
	‘Can she “feel” me?’ Breezy asked.
	‘No.’ Forrest replied.
	‘Cool!’ and Breezy began spanking the woman, finger fucking the woman’s pooter, and sucking on Forrest’s balls thru the woman’s legs.

	And on and on it went--after Forrest emptied his love juice into the stunned woman’s cunny, Breezy licked/sucked Forrest cock and balls clean, then as Forrest turned the woman over to lay her back onto his chest, Breezy tongued cleaned the woman’s pussy.
	And on and on it went…
	There was a radio check that came at midnight.  Forrest was near asleep but awoke with the call of nature calling him and the radio blaring.  Breezy was asleep as was the naked well fucked Amanda.  Minutes were needed to re-dress the woman and make her believe she had had a sexual “wet” dream.
	Amanda came to her “senses” and was greatly embarrassed--but saw Forrest and Breezy “asleep.”  she answered her radio, it was her partner, Kyle Weston--just checking in.  They chatted briefly, Amanda radio checked with another ranger station, then made way up to the “tower.”
		Amanda was gone some time, Forrest began to worry.  He was in no condition to climb the stairs up to the tower station, 100 feet up.  Forrest cursed his foul luck, a good opportunity shot to hell.  He farted, closed his eyes, forgot to go pee, went to sleep instead.

	He didn’t know what kind of bird it was, but it was pissing him off.
	‘Keep it up, bird brain, and I’ll have your sorry chirping ass for breakfast!’ the bird on the sill fluttered its wings, squawked loudly as if it had heard the threat, squirted a bird turd and fluttered off.
	Forrest had a headache.  A bitch of a headache.  He was hungry, his thigh felt like it was on fire, he had to pee (badly) and he was just a little confused.  He heard voices, at first they were muffled and unclear.  Then they were.
	He recognized Breezy’s voice, she was ever vigil.  Then a man’s voice followed by a woman’s voice.  Opening his eyes hurt, but it did it anyways.  He saw he was in a room, kinda small, but it had a window.  He was in a cot, kinda small, but it fit him anyways.  Pale green and forest green was the color scheme.  Filing cabinets and fire extinguishers, rope, climbing gear, and other assorted forest ranger stuff.
	Ah.
	Forrest sat up.
	That was a mistake.
	The door to the “back sack out room” was open, Breezy came scampering quickly to his side, followed by the two rangers who manned the station.  Amanda Bain and her horny cohort, Kyle Weston.  Though he was still recovering from the snake bite, he saw Ranger Weston’s eyes go right to Breezy’s and Amanda’s ass as the bent over to assist Forrest.
	“I gotta go?” Forrest said mumbling.
	The two women team helped Forrest swing his legs out, he was dressed merely in a long “patient’s” gown, nothing else.  It was thin but it DID have a back to it.
	Quickly but surredly they moved him to the bathroom.
	“You be okay on your own?” offered the young ranger.
	Forrest wanted to say something witty but it didn’t come out.  He merely nodded and moved shuffling his feet into the small bathroom.  The door shut and he stood in a little confusion--until his bladder got his attention.  The toilet seat was down, he saw a package of tampons hidden behind the tank, a porno magazine was just behind the counter.  Forrest whizzed into the toilet, then brought his dick over to the sink for a wash.
	An ambulance would be dispatch as soon as possible, but Forrest declined and the ambulance was canceled.  He was feeling better and promised to check in with a doctor as soon as possible.  
	A bit of fresh air, some walking around, farting in the wind, and he felt much-much better.  He thanked the two rangers for their help.
	‘I ought to do something for Kyle.’
	‘Ranger Weston?’ queried back Breezy, ‘Why, what did he do?’ cause he didn’t do much.
	‘He’s been checking you and ranger Bain’s ass.  Poor guy’s horny!’
	‘OH!’ then, ‘Then by all means!’ she smiled.  She didn’t know exactly how Forrest managed to “manage” others with his implant, but she figured it worked along same principles as what her brother had--the wrist watch device.  Forrest’s was just inside his noggin.
	It sorta worked like that, yeah.

	Inside the little bottom ranger hovel at the bottom of the ranger station Amanda Bain lay on the same bed Forrest had been.  Fresh sheets had just been replaced.  Amanda had been bending over straightening the bed when suddenly…
	Kyle Weston was a horny dude--very horny.  He wasn’t a virgin but he didn’t get a lot of pussy.  He wasn’t handsome or anything, timid and shy.  Being a ranger was suitable--remote locations, usually on your own.  He always figured he’d hump a bear if necessary--or the bear would hump one--one of the two.
	When he was partnered up with Amanda--his balls ached every minute they were together.  She wasn’t truly remarkably gorgeous, but she was fuckable--very hot damn! fuckable.
	Working slowly, Forrest invaded the young woman’s mind.  She had no desires for her partner.  She lightly masturbated herself and sometimes did so while out walking in the woods.  This led back to the fantasy she held deep within her--to be caught friggin herself by a group of well hung horny men and “taken” by them.
	Forrest worked on her mind, inserting “new” desires and ambitions.  
	There was no need to work on Kyle--he was horny enough to take whatever he could get.  He wasn’t “fat” and the word “pudgy” really didn’t suit him, either.  He was a young 34 year old with 38-inch waist.  No big butt, no flab, no “beer” belly.  
	He DID, however, have seven inches of dick!
	That was a plus.
	By noon of that day, two days after being bitten by the disturbed rattlesnake, Forrest and Breezy were on their way to the campground.  In the backroom of the ranger’s station, Kyle stuffed Amanda’s pussy.  Amanda was a “willing” recipient, a burning desire anew in her--to prance about the station and tower naked, to willingly suck off her partner and take his 7-incher to her pussy and asshole.
	Forrest was pleased with his shenanigans and hoped to return to check on them.