August Moone
Book 10
Chapter 3
Snippets II

Twisted angst
	The DJ factor
	“What’s up, little dude?”
	“I-I need a piece.”
	“We’re not talking cake, are we?”
	“No.”
	“Three hundred for the piece…”
	DJ shook his head cutting him off,
	“That guy that works for you?  He’s a cop.”
	Agent Rocky frowned and gave the young DJ a hard stare.
	“You sure?”
	Sitting on the dock of a downtown warehouse (not that warehouse of the Fallen Dragon) Agent Rocky and young DJ Konner sat munching on chips, drinking beer, and waiting for a truck to come in to unload unspecialized cargo.  Rocky held a non-Agency job as a warehouseman unloading trucks hauling beer and beer paraphernalia (casks, bung holers, corks, shit like that.)  Also prized western paintings (naked bitches) and old west pianos and all things “old west.”
	“Yeah, my dad’s a contractor and I work with him sometimes on the weekends and we’re pouring a driveway for this guy couple weeks ago—he’s a cop.”
	Rocky frowned more and took on the “I’m kinda pissed” Godzilla look.
	After a moment,
	“You need a big piece or what?”
	“Small will do.”
	Evening was upon them and DJ had to scoot home soon.  The stench of the City and whatever was in the bottom drain of the inclined dock stung DJ’s nose.  It was foul.
	“Truck’s gonna be late,” said another dock worker from behind, “big crash on the Interstate coming into the City.”
	Rocky grunted acknowledgement and got up from the edge of the dock.  Nodding to his little friend, ‘come with me’ they went into the warehouse and down the hall to his office.
	On one wall above some filing cabinets—a long portrait of a naked dame.

	“Daphne,” Rocky said removing a small caliber handgun from a wall safe.
	“She’s pretty.” DJ said.
	“Good eye,” chuckled Rocky, “she’s from an old west saloon, around 1850.”
	“Damn.” DJ said; he had a boner.
	Daphne lay on a saloon bar, naked, nice tits, ruby red lips and nails, a hairless muff, looking outward being very-very seductive.  The vixen twiddled her auburn hair and beckoned the onlooker to come closer.
	“This’ll do for you?” Rocky said offering the weapon to the thirteen year old.  DJ accepted the gun nodding his head, “Yeah, that’ll work.”
	“You need any accruements—attachments?”
	DJ gave the large black man a blank stare.
	“A silencer?”
	DJ shrugged saying “Nah, I got it covered.”

	He wasn’t all that certain for sure, though, that he wouldn’t need an “attachment” to the .38.  He had learned from a television program and word of mouth, the internet, that a car’s oil filter, a bag of sand, a fluffy pillow, and a 2liter soda bottle (empty of course) would suffice as a silencer.  Along those lines he thunk up another “silencer”…
	From the internet and television crime shows he learned that the bullet escaping the barrel of the weapon was what caused the “explosion” sound.  Muffling the barrel silenced the explosion.
	DJ made his way home, snuck in, and crashed on his bed staring up to the ceiling.  The coming days were going to be something.  Really something!

	A few days earlier and…
	Tammie Sue Rhichardson tantalized him.  At first and DJ found her electrifying, pretty, sweet, and captivating.  He soon learned that she was devious, a deviant, despicable, dangerous.   He was cool with that.
	With Tammie Sue there was always an adventure; riding the subway downtown—alone.  Walking thru central city park; after dark.  Racing thru the cemetery—after dark.  And having sex—at a church they attended (after dark!)
	DJ wasn’t sexually experienced.  Like, none.  With Tammie Sue he was learning—a lot!  One day she asked if he wouldn’t mind helping out at the church, cleaning and storing some stuff in the store room.
	“SURE!” he said energetically—anything to be close to her.  She smelled soooo good!  Like roses, oranges, and mint!  (mint?)  She had lovely hair, a great body, and those eyes!  Her smile was intoxicating (and gave him a reason to live.)

	Not more than fifteen minutes of sweeping, storing, sorting and…
	Tammie Sue “bent over” to sweep up some debris revealing the fact that she had no panties on!  Her short-short skirt easily made the revelation and DJ was blown away.  Instant wood.  His cock virtually stuck out his pants and Tammie Sue saw it.  She giggled and DJ blushed.
	“My,” she said coyly, “what have you got hiding in there!?”
	DJ wore dark jeans.  He was speechless.  Tammie Sue stepped up close to him and boldly placed her hand to his bulge.  She smiled and DJ was putty in her hand.  She rubbed.  She rubbed-rubbed-rubbed sending the boy into a state of being he had never been before.
	“Do you want to see me naked?” she asked.
	DJ couldn’t respond—not verbally.  He nodded and quick as a blink she pulled off her one piece outfit standing butt bare assed naked before him.
	“HOLY SHIT!”
	“Don’t tell me I’m the first girl you’ve seen naked?”
	He hated to admit it—but, yeah, she was.  He shrugged and blushed even more.  then,
	Tammie Sue removed her dress.
	No panties.
	No bra.
	No shame.
	Before he knew—he was naked, too!  Whether he undressed himself or by someone else’s hand he wasn’t sure.  He did vaguely remember the wicked girl sliding his underwear down.  And there it was—his cock.  His hard cock.  Tammie Sue giggled, blushed a little herself, then took holt of the member, stroked it, squeezed it—sucked it.
	Firstly she rolled her tongue about the super sensitive crown, diddled the piss slit, then slowly like a snaked swallowing dinner the kinky church girl devoured DJ’s schlong.  Cupping his balls she tantalized him even more.
	Then they were fucking.
	DJ couldn’t recall if he “went down” on the weird girl but he DID remember fucking her.  His first fuck.  He was an avid wanker and had two count ‘em TWO older sisters at home.
	His first fuck.  It was awesome!  So much better than his hand, pillow, bed.
	The fuck was some awesome he couldn’t describe it but it was a feeling that left him tingling for some time.  And from the store room to the sanctuary where they fucked right on the platform where preachers and church choir members stood during services!
	And then it happened.
	What happened?
	Some time later, a few days, and the two horny miscreants were at it again.  At the church and in an unused office.  Butt naked with Tammie Sue bent over a table and DJ behind her pumping furiously her bunghole.  (Tammie Sue let him bang her pussy just so as he could get the feel of it but was fearful of letting him bang OFF in her pussy for fear of pregnancy.)  Being a church that just wouldn’t do.
	And just as DJ was getting his nut…
	“WHAT THE FUC-?” Tammie Sue’s preacher daddy appeared.
	DJ nutted; pulled out of Tammie Sue’s shitter with cum squirting everywhere!  Pure panic was in the boy’s face and his being.  Tammie Sue?  Not so much.  She seemed more (or less) aggravated that her daddy who was supposed to elsewhere had suddenly barged in…disrupting her fun.
	“Get yer ass to my office!” the 3rd banana preacher at the church shouted.
	Tammie Sue collected her clothes,
	“NO!” shouted the man, “You took them off here they stay here!”
	“Whatever!” bitched Tammie Sue and she walked nakedly out of the room, down the hall and to her daddy’s office.
	DJ stood facing a wrathful father.  There was no explaining this.
	“Turn yer ass around!” sternly said the preacher.
	DJ had been spanked at home; both by his father and mother for infractions like—bad grades at school, lying about the bad grades at school, rough housing with his sisters, breaking an expensive vase—from rough housing with his sisters, shit like that.  DJ clenched as he turned about and leaned against the table he had just been butt fucking Tammie Sue.
	The third in line preacher firstly smoothed his hand over DJ’s ripe firm lily white ass.  Then smacked it.  DJ anticipated the smack—it still hurt.
	“JESUS!” he called out.
	“Don’t you dare call for Him!” angrily bitched the preacher and smacked DJ’s ass again.  Then again—and again.  Then—then—THEN “reached around” fondling DJ’s cock and balls!
	“You want more?” Collin Rhichardson asked.
	Did he mean—spanking or molesting?
	His ass was already burning; the preacher landed not one—not two—not even three but FOUR very hard swats to his tender lily white ass sending the young DJ out of his skin.
	“SON-OF-A-FUCKING-BITCH!” he yelled.
	Then, out of the corner of his eye he saw the belt—the preacher’s dress belt.
	“Do you want more?”
	“FUCK YOU!” yelled DJ.
	“Funny you should say that…”
	“There are two ways we can go about this,” the man went on, “I can call your parents…and the police and …”
	“P-police?”
	“Tammie Sue is a little bit younger than yourself; so, in this state, that statutory rape—and you go to jail for awhile for that.”
	DJ’s mouth fell open and he temporarily forgot about his searing ass.
	“And then there’s your parents to deal with.”
	That would bring MORE spanking.  And life at home wouldn’t be good.
	Gulping and DJ waited for the preacher; his eyes were fixed on the thin black dress belt.  That would fucking hurt!  And so transfixed was DJ that he didn’t see the man drop his grey dress slacks AND underwear.  The man masturbating got DJ’s attention at last.
	“Oh shit!” he breathed.
	“Take it—or take the belt—or take the police.” slight pause, then; “Your choice.”  Some choice!
	“I’ve never—” sucked cock.
	“First time for everything!” the preacher man waggled his cock and DJ contemplated the choices—suck dick, be whipped by the belt, whipped at home, and/or sit it out in jail.
	His choice?
	The taste of cock wasn’t what he thought it would be—but then again he had no idea really what sucking cock would be.  The taste kind of sort of reminded him of string cheese.  Kind of sort of.
	It still was unpleasant.
	Then the preacher had DJ “turn around.”
	Oh shit—oh shit—oh shit!

	“The cemetery!?”
	“Yeah, it’s creepy but cool.”
	DJ was pretty sure that his new girl was out of her mind.  But sex was sex!
	Karla Byansell had titties, an ass, long silky brown hair, and she was a head taller than himself!  She also liked to fuck—at school, behind the school, at the movie theatre, under the train bridge WHILE A TRAIN WAS ROARING OVERHEAD!  And more recently—the cemetery.
	At school they engaged in extracurricular activities that would for sure get them suspended.  Behind the backstop cage one time and under the sports bleachers—twice!  Twice!  The girl was kinky; she liked to play with his dick, suck his balls and be spanked.  Spanked!  DJ wasn’t too keen on being spanked.
	Of fucked in the ass.
	Tammie Sue was still a part of his life—but he feared an encounter with her father.  It had been weeks since the preacher man had buggered him and his butthole still ached!  He didn’t know how gays like it; cock sucking was one thing—taking it up the butt was something else all together!
	Not wanting to upset Tammie Sue he continued seeing her—and fucking.  His sisters at home wondered about him—he was sooo…chilled.  He smiled a lot.  He was friendlier, more helpful, and less apt to get them into trouble.
	But avoiding Tammie Sue’s father—that was a toughie.  Always—always the girl wanted to fuck around AT the church.  DJ complied but was tense and on high alert.
	The sensation of fucking.  A wow factor he couldn’t imagine.  Just holding a girl’s hand was more than he thought he would get.  Seeing a girl naked—wow.  Caressing a girl’s ass—double wow.  The triple wow came with sinking his dick into a girl’s cunny.  Fingering, kissing, licking, and marveling at a girl’s cunny also wowed him exponentially.  Having sisters and yeah, he saw them in various stages of undress but that was as far as it went.
	Doing the new girl, Karla, blew his mind.  She was cool, her daddy owned a furniture store downtown and her mother owned a car lot!  She had money.  DJ had “some”; and though he offered to buy movie tickets, treats, pizza, mini golf, and so on—Karla always made the purchases.
	The cemetery, though—that creeped him out.
	At midnight the two stole their way into the cemetery located at the edge of town.  Under the train bridge was something else, too; but that he marked as a bit of bravery.  The incidences at school were thrilling as there was a chance of getting caught.  Making love in the creepy olde cemetery was not so much of a wow factor as it was…ewewewe!
	But for the sake of getting laid…
	As soon as they were about in the middle of the creepy ancient graveyard hardly anyone used (or got buried in) the girl took to shedding her clothes right then and there!  DJ followed suit.  It was kind of … fun!  He was giddy, horny, horny, and giddy.  Also, horny.
	The pair firstly hugged one another, kissed, groped, and lightly spanked each other before rolling between some graves and fucking.  Karla liked being on top; she liked to jiggle her teenage titties in DJs face; she was thirteen, six months away from fourteen.  Her bodacious titties hadn’t come along until she was one month into her thirteenth year.  Prior to that and she was kinda flat.
	DJ liked those titties; they made him laugh.
	Karla liked to squash her sex onto DJs sex; DJ liked that, too!
	And like DJ, Karla wasn’t too keen on “up the ass.”

	D J Amberson 1890—1944
	Husband  Father  Farmer  Soldier
	Upon seeing the initials D and J and Karla was giddy as all get out and said,
	“Let’s do it here!”
	DJ was cool with that and was about to lay between that grave and the next one with a huge headstone “Gladys Makehand  1910—1970” when Karla grabbed his hand, “No,” she said, “HERE!”
	HERE…right ON the grave mound!
	EWEWEWE!
	That’s pretty creepy—but for the sake of pussy…
	It was a quickie.  Or it was going to be until that pussy snapped up his cock.
	Like with Tammie Sue—dat pussy was good!

	“Let’s go somewhere else.” DJ said trying not to stammer and show his fear.
	Karla was cool and the two roamed the cemetery—naked.
	“Holy shit!” said Karla, “Look!”
	Karla Kartwright  1900—1980  Wife  Mother  Nurse  Teacher
	“Let’s do it here!”
	OMG!  This girl was crazier than Tammie Sue!  And that’s sayin’ something!
	But pussy—dat pussy could drive a man to do anything—even fuck on top of a grave!
	Then,
	Almost 4AM…
	Shagged out DJ sneaked into his home via the kitchen door.  He heard the floorboard in the hallway and knew he was about to be busted.  His room was on the 2nd floor, his parents were on the ground floor due to his mother’s bad health and not being able to climb the stairs.
	Quickly he grabbed a cereal bowl and emptied some cereal into it.
	And more quick thinking—he shucked his clothes save for his underwear.
	His dad appeared at the entrance to the kitchen asking “What’s going on?”
	More than once had his dad caught him slipping into the house…
	“Got hungry.” DJ said yawning, farting, yawning, scarfing down cereal.
	“Good idea.” His burly dad said and got him a bowl for cereal, too.
	“How’s school going?” the typical banter began.
	Whew!  DJ averted a scolding and possible ass beating.
	Passing his sisters’ room, the door was open—so was the hall bathroom door (but he could tell that someone was within.)  Usually, the bathroom door would be closed if “occupied.”  Peeking into the girls’ room and he saw his oldest sister, Megan, laying out on her bed clad in just her panties and a short tee-shirt.
	Slowly he made his way down the hall to the bathroom.
	Shadows on the wall told him that shitter was indeed “occupied.”
	He had a couple of choices—One; throw the door open and yell “BOO!” scaring the “shit” out of sister Arlene who would be on the pot.  Two; sneak by and go the fuck to bed!
	If he chose option ONE he would surely endure the wrath of his sister.
	Option Two:  sleep.
	Option One would possibly arouse their dad…who would not be amused.
	Option Two:  sleep.
	Option Two seemed the most practical (and wise.)
	As soon as his head hit the pillow…
	8:12AM
	What the fuck!?
	DJ sat bolt upright—seriously?  8AM?  WTF!?  It was … 4:30 five minutes ago!  Outside and there was the neighbor’s water sprinkler on in the backyard; those loose parrots were up in the sycamore again, the Chaucer’s dog was barking her brains out—it sure did sound like to DJ she was saying “FUCK ME!  FUCK ME!  FUCK ME!” but that was just DJs warped mind.
	What day was this?  School day?  Hope the fuck not.  If so, DJ was going to call in sick.  One eye wouldn’t open and the other had that morning shit in it.  Fuck it—he plopped back down and breathed.  Sleep returned for twenty more minutes.
	Then he had to pee.
	The seat was down.
	His balls itched.
	His asshole itched.
	He needed a shower.
	He needed to get laid.
	… … uh, no, not so soon.
	The cemetery.
	The cemetery!
	Holy fucking monkey shit—had he really-really had sex on top of graves!?
	His mind blanked out.  His thoughts settled on Karla—she was wicked.  More wicked than Tammie Sue.  Fucking in a church was—was pretty wicked and quite possibly a Zoom Ticket on the Train to Hell—front of the line, boy!  Fucking—in a church!  The Devil smiled on that one.
	But fucking on top of someone’s grave?
	He passed on the shower and made his way down stairs.
	Sister Arlene sat at the breakfast table munching on cereal.
	“What’s up?” sleepy head DJ asked—not really caring for a response.
	Arlene shrugged and munched.
	“Where’s dad?” if it was 8:30 and Saturday then the old man would be working in the backyard; his garden, his pickup, some project in the garage.
	“He got a call about pouring some driveway; be gone all day.”
	“Mom’s not up yet?”
	“Mom’s on drugs.” Prescribed drugs, medication for her various sails.
	“And Megan?”
	Arlene smiled—no explanation was further needed.  Megan was “passed out.”
	Then,
	“Goddamn, DJ—what the fuck?”
	Caught off guard and DJ was bewildered—then embarrassed for sticking out his sweat pants was his cock.  No, his cock was not OUT of his sweat pants—the sweat pants were sticking out because of his cock.
	“Holy shit!” the embarrassed teen bursted.
	“Who you been thinking of?” giggled his sister.  She was fifteen, the passed out Megan was eighteen.
	DJ couldn’t respond—he had never seen his dick stick out so far.
	“You were out with that new girl, what’s her name—Marla?”
	“Karla.” DJ said still standing—still staring at his poking erection.
	And then—quick as a wink—Arlene reached out yanking down her brother’s sweats.
	No undies had he on—after his pee he had shucked his underwear on the pretense of taking a shower.  He turned to wash his face and let the shower go for another day.  Stinky boy!
	And so there it was—cock.  DJs cock was more than nominal for a boy his age (thirteen.)  It was impressive and Arlene stared—stared—stared.  She also blushed and was bemused by her brother’s endowment.
	DJ was still mesmerized.
	Arlene took the moment (of surprise) to reach out and take holt of her brother’s cock.  He was still too shocked to take note.  Arlene latched onto the honker and squeezed it.  Then she moved UP and DOWN the length of the prick; it was an astounding six incher!  That was two inches more than he should have.
	And inasmuch as DJ was mesmerized by his pud—so was Arlene.
	Soon and the fifteen year old freshman high schooler slid off of her chair and onto her knees “addressing” her brother’s dick.  Cupping his fuzzy balls she licked—she LICKED his piss slit!  She did!
	Then she was going ALL THE WAY down!
	DJ didn’t come around until he was blowing his load into her mouth.

	Surprisingly she sucked and sucked and continued sucking until he was well enough drained.  The girl who pranked him by pouring water onto his bed making him think he had wet the bed stood and pulled off her tee-shirt.  No bra.  Down came her sweat pants—no panties.
	DJ’s mind was blown.  Officially.  Usually and his sisters pitched a bitch if they caught their brother spying on them unclothed.  The girl re-took holt of his cock and masturbating him, fondled his balls, then sat on the edge of the table spreading her legs.  DJ’s eyes were on his sister’s cunt.  Long had he wanted to fuck her.
	It was awkward as hell but DJ managed to get his lengthy dick into Arlene’s cunt.  Her pussy was already super “moist” and she shuddered as the dick entered her.  DJ focused on her bodacious ta-tas—the nipples were hard enough to cut glass!
	The sensation of his dick in his sister’s pussy…awesome.  There weren’t words yet invented to describe that feeling.  He sank himself all the way in, then pulled most of the way out.  When the head of his dick was about the breech he shoved himself back in.
	“HARDER!” shouted Arlene clawing at him.
	The table made noise and fucking on the table was probably not the wisest place to fuck, but…
	DJ began to speed up and although he had just cum he was right on the verge of doing so again.
	Faster!  Harder!  Faster—faster—faster!
	AHHHHH!
	Instant meltdown.
	The release of love cream instantly melted the young brother.
	“FUCK!” he said exhaustingly.
	“We just did!” giggled Arlene.  “But we can do it again!” she said smiling wickedly winking at him.  “But let’s go to my room.”
	DJ was cool with that.

	Megan still lay on her bed—passed out cold.
	DJ stood between the girls’ bed watching her.
	“She really tied one on.” 
	DJ shook his head sadly…and stood slowly methodically wanking.
	“You want to fuck her?” Arlene coyly asked.
	DJ’s mouth hung open—his first answer was YES! but he knew it was an impossibility.  Arlene pulled Megan’s panties down—and off!  DJ was more bewildered than ever.  Arlene’s legs were spread and Arlene said, 
	“Get after it!”
	One minute—two minutes—two minutes thirty seconds…
	DJ crawled onto the passed out sister and slowly glided his cock into her cunny.  He knew that she was with not one but three-THREE boys who sought her favor.  One boy was more prominent than the other two—and one was in college!
	More unique feelings swept over the young teen as he pumped the unconscious sibling.  Meanwhile, Arlene caressed her brother’s ass, fingered herself, and giggled as DJ fucked.
	Suddenly…
	He awoke with a startle.  His body felt—icky.  His junk ached.  There was cool air drifting in thru the open window—freshened by the water sprinkler in the neighbor’s yard.  His mind was fucked up.  Karla.  Karla had him fucking her on top of graves!
	His dad—nearly busting him sneaking in.
	Arlene.
	Arlene.
	Megan.
	Arlene.
	Had Arlene really sucked his dick in the kitchen?
	Had he really put his bone in the unconscious Megan?
	His eyes could barely see the bluish numbers on his bedside clock.
	What did it read?  8:30…no, 9:30.  9:30AM.
	His head hurt.
	His cock ached.
	Flopping back on the bed he hoped his mind would settle.
	Was it a dream?  Had he dreamed seriously hard about getting a hummer from his sister?  Had he dreamed the whole thing about fucking his sisters at all?  That would be fucked up for sure!
	Suddenly the door opened—
	“Goddamn, Deej,” said Arlene, “going to sleep all fuckin’ day?”
	She was in a tee-shirt.  Panties?
	DJ sat up.  He was naked.
	“What’s going on?” he said rubbing his eyes.
	“Dad’s got a Sat job, Mom’s sleeping the day away,” pause “so’s Meg.”
	Swinging his legs off the side he wavered between realities.
	“When did you get in?” Arlene asked leaning against the door.
	“Not sure, 4:30 or something like.” He wasn’t sure about anything.
	“Did you get laid?” kind of a bold question but Arlene was “bold” kind of girl.  DJ nodded and felt that he hadn’t gotten all his sleep out—so he flopped back onto his bed width wise.
	Arlene checked his junk, smiled, giggled, then disappeared.
	Then it was noon o’clock.
	Arlene was gone, dad was still gone, mom was never here.
	Scarfing down some grub and DJ leaned against the tiled counter staring at the breakfast table.  It looked like it was in the same place as it always had been—of course, Arlene COULD have moved it back in place.  But not likely.  Sooo, had he fucked her?  Had she toyed with his balls and—AND sucked his dick?
	Had he fucked Megan?
	A dream.
	It had been a dream.  Of course.
	Pissed and disgruntled DJ made way back up the stairs.  He needed a shower.  But passing his sisters’ room (again) he noted the girl was still “passed out.”  He paused.  He lingered.  He wondered.
	Still a dream?
	Tap-tap-tap on the door.
	Megan slept soundly.  How much did she drink?
	She was wearing her tee-shirt—and panties.
	So maybe it had been a dream after all.
	DJ suddenly was aware of the fact that he was methodically masturbating.
	Right up against her twin size bed he stood gawking at her.
	The next thing he knew he was on top of his passed out sister!
	Nothing from the girl—not even when he moved the crotch of her panties to one side and carefully placed the head of his prick onto her cunny.  If she should awaken…

Reality—what a concept!
	All ungodly things cum to an end
	His screams were muffled—muffled into Tammie Sue’s pussy!
	Oh, and he was screaming ‘cause Tammie Sue’s daddy was fucking him up the ass…  This after a five hand-to-ass swatting.  This after being caught again fucking Tammie Sue.  This after the temptress Tammie Sue beckoned him and washed him with her seductiveness.
	The draw of pussy was something—really something!
	In a room that was seldom used the two miscreant horndogs were caught.
	Tammie Sue looked all the part of the frightened daughter being caught doing something wrong by her preacher daughter.  DJ was with mixed emotions;
	‘Not again!’ ‘son-of-a-bitch!’ ‘fucking cunt!’ and ‘this is gonna cost me.’
	Colin Rhichardson gave the naked pair a long hard stare—then gouged the heel of his hand to his crotch.  DJ really-really-really did not want to suck the man’s cock.  But he also didn’t want it up his asshole, either.  Nor did he want another spanking.  So much for wanting…
	First up,
	“Turn around.”
	‘Goddamn it.’
	The first swat was to Tammie Sue.  She jolted, shrieked, pulled her sweet cock sucking satisfying lips in tight and endured the brash spanking.  The preacher then caressed DJ’s ass.  Gripping himself, gritting his teeth, he clenched tightly as the swat smacked his bare ass.  Funny, though, a bit of cum exploded from his pisser.  He had nutted in Tammie Sue and they were just lounging with his prick nestled nicely against her cunny when…
	The bastard preacher then FINGERED his shitter!  He did!
	DJ knew what was to come.
	Tammie Sue jolted again as her daddy smacked.  She maintained her poise but DJ saw that she was struggling and close to tears.  So much so was DJ into watching the girl that he hardly paid attention to the swatting.  At least one of them anyways.
	At length and the swatting stopped—temporarily.
	Preacher Rhichardson tapped his naked daughter and she turned about.  Rubbing her ass and shedding some tears (and looking a little pissed off) the girl about then hopped up onto a conference table.  With her ass right on the edge she hooked her feet to the edge spreading her legs wide.
	Dat pussy!
	It was gorgeous!
	“Have at it!” said the preacher.
	Hmmm, DJ wasn’t too opposed—but his dick had just been there.  And it spit, too!  But in hopes of not being stricken he did.  It was a little funky but whatever.
	He had heard that girls could cum, too.  Was that what he was tasting as he went down on Tammie Sue?  The very thought of sucking up his own cum was disgustingly nauseating.  Very.
	Then, as he was getting into the deed…
	SMACK!  A hard-hard smack came from the preacher.
	“Summaitch!” barked DJ into Tammie Sue’s pussy.
	Another smack followed by another and then another and then…
	Just as the tears were flowing and DJ didn’t care if he spent time in jail…
	OH MY GOD!
	Preacher Colin Rhichardson put his cock up DJs ass.
	Slipping home just before midnight and DJ vowed,
	“Not again.”

	A plastic 2-liter bottle worked great as a silencer.
	So did a heavy duty oil filter.
	So it got DJ to wondering; and in his research he learned that a bullet made its KA-BLAM noise as it left the barrel of the weapon.  So he wondered—and wondered--

	Down by the river he tried the soda bottle; the two liter plastic bottle didn’t live up to the claims on cop shows and the internet.  There was a bit of a “noise” as the bullet exited the barrel of .38.
	Bummer.
	The oil filter, though, DID live up to the claims of silencing the bullet’s explosion.  That was a plus—but not practical.  DJ figured he could have asked for a gun silencer from Rocky and probably could have gotten one.  But the boy figured he was asking enough just the weapon—no questions asked!
	(when I was a kid the most dangerous weapon we had was a sling-shot!)
	DJ waffled between enacting his plan of vengeance and “letting it go.”
	But one more encounter with the preacher and his daughter set the plan in motion.  And that motion was even more so when—
	“OH GOD, DADDY!  YES!”
	DJ heard the familiar voice—and the familiar sound of a spank that followed.  It was Thursday evening and Tammie Sue had called for DJ to meet her at the church.  He knew what for.
	“Is your dad going to be there?” he asked flatly.
	“No, he’s at a meeting at another church, we’ve got the place to ourselves.”
	DJ thought and had a gut feeling that he should not go.
	He went.
	An errand for his mother, though, set him late arriving to the church and something narly was already in progress.
	“I guess he’s not coming.” Tammie Sue had said.
	“That’s alright,” preacher Rhichardson said laying a hand to his daughter’s naked ass, “I am!”
	SMACK!  the smacking jolted even DJ!
	“Ooooh!  Daddy,” announced the miscreant girl, “I’m tingling!”
	It took some doing to do it—spy—but DJ managed.  He was in the church via the backdoor—and by the time he made his way to the office where the preacher and his daughter were—“backdoor” shenanigans was already in progress.
	After smacking his daughter’s ass until it was bright red the girl’s daddy began smacking her ass with his cock—then prodded his way into her asshole.  Gripping her hips he began pumping driving every inch of his nominal cock into her—sodomy!  Something a preacher really shouldn’t be doing.
	After humping his fill the preacher pulled out; Tammie Sue fingered her pussy, turned around and positioned herself on the tacky green sofa.  All their clothing was on the floor.  The preacher stepped into the nearby private bathroom where he washed off his dirtied cock.  Then he returned to gawk at his naked child; he smiled wickedly then got on his knees between her outstretched legs and smacked her pussy with his cock.
	Then he fucked it.
	Tammie Sue thrashed her head all about; her silky hair of blond pasted to her face.
	“OOOOH!  GOD!  YES!  YES!  YES!”
	Preacher daddy had his cock buried to the hilt into his daughter’s cunt; he pulled out to smack the cunny then plunged it back in pumping furiously until blasting off a hot load of spunk—and his cock was wrapped!
	Although exhausted the man plucked up his dress belt and began smacking Tammie Sue’s fresh fucked cunt.  The girl squealed with delight totally blowing DJ’s mind.  This family was fucked up!
	Then—
	“If you cant get that boy DJ to do you, get that other boy!”
	“I will daddy.” Tammie Sue said.
	“Get them both!” and he made mention of another boy, too.
	Then he said, “One of them’s bound to get you pregnant!”
	Pregnant!  DJ wasn’t ready to be a father.
	Something was up, something narly.
	What exactly the plan was about wasn’t known.  DJ learned sort of kind of that the preacher wanted Tammie Sue to get pregnant by one of the church boys.  The reason wasn’t entirely clear; to make an example of the horny boys in the church or something.  He wanted to cause an upset in the church and enact some sort of decree or something.
	“In the end, by the end of the year, it will be ME in charge of this church!”
	Ooooh—so that was it.  Topple the leadership ‘cause their leadership teachings were failing and not up to bringing the message of purity to the congregation.  Some shit like that.
	That and the preacher Rhichardson liked young boys…

	So it came to pass…
	DJ sat up all night contemplating.  What he was contemplating was going to take a lot of thought.  A lot of action.  A lot of balls.  He had giggled at the cop shows where the bad guys got wasted.  He had watched and snickered at violent movies where the villains killed one another in a power struggle to be the top banana.  Those were just TV shows, movies.  Real life was real.
	Tuesday evening; another day where no one was at the church.
	No one but the preacher Rhichardson.
	DJ saw the man’s car—for some weeks he had been stalking the goings at the church; who was there on certain days—the janitors, the cleaning crew (separate from the janitorial staff), and the secretary staff; the choir in practice, a prayer group, and so on.  There were only a couple of days where no one was at the church and that was usually Tuesday and Thursday evenings.
	Summoning his gall the young DJ slipped into the church.
	He heard sounds.
	Familiar sounds.
	Spanking sounds.
	DJ shook his head—‘this shit’s gotta stop!’  In his pants pocket was the loaded .38.  Stealing his way into the church he hunkered down at the dimly lit hallway.  The office of the preacher Rhichardson was way-way down at the other end.  The only light was from a couple of nightlights along the floor and the light streaming out of preacher’s office.
	There was a naked boy standing outside the office.  He was about nine or so.  DJ shook his head—‘this shit’s gotta stop!’
	Slowly he snuck his way to the office—from within the office there was wailing; spanking, gruntings, wailings.  DJ locked eyes with the petrified boy standing awaiting his turn.
	“Get lost.” DJ said.
	The boy grabbed up his cast off clothes and fled down the hall.
	Peeking into the office and there were two boys; one was naked, bent over the back of a crappy green love seat from the 60s being fucked al la butt as well as being spanked while doing so.  That boy was about ten.  The other lad was about twelve and fully clothed.  He was frightened beyond all get out; crying, sniveling, petrified.
	“Get ‘em down!” yelled the preacher.
	The boy with very-very blond hair pushed his pants and underwear down.
	Preacher Rhichardson pulled out of the hapless boy he had been fucking, spanked both already tortured cheeks then commanded the other lad to get on his knees.
	“Suck him.”
	The boy with the very-very blond hair sunk.  Messing with Tammie Sue was one thing—sucking a dude’s dick was another.
	“Get yer ass over ‘ere and suck him!” demanded the preacher.
	The boy wailed but stepped out of his clothes, pulled off his stripped green shirt and did as told.  He sucked almost like a pro—gagging, retching, almost vomiting all in toll.
	After several minutes of continuous sucking the boys got on the preacher’s desk in a 69 position with the blond haired boy on top.  The preacher commanded to pair to start sucking with the blond haired boy sucking now the dark haired boy beneath his ball sack.
	The preacher then smacked the blond hair boy’s ass with his hand.
	And just as the preacher was about to butt fuck the blond haired boy—
	“Daddy!” called out Tammie Sue.  She was in thru a different door.  DJ panicked and dove into the office next door.  His plan for that evening was totally fucked up.  Hiding behind the sofa therein he missed the gangbang.  He also fell asleep.
	He awoke not so much as with a startle as with “what the hell’s that smell!?”
	Perfume.  Heavy and lots of it.
	A secretary.
	Carleen Deetrick.  She was—old; 60-something.  Not too tall, big assed titties, big assed ass, squattish, had a weird laugh chortle, and wore heavy duty reeking perfume.
	It was 8:40AM.
	Holy fucking monkey shit!  He had been out all night!
	Not good.  No, not good at all.
	Ms. Deetrick turned on her computer, did something at the filing cabinet, farted, then left the office.  Now DJ had the double joy of smelling the woman’s scent!  Wednesday morning—how many peoples came to the church on Wednesday morning?  DJ didn’t want to find out—he had to get home!
	Hearing no voices and having no idea where the hell Ms. Deetrick traipsed off, DJ slinked along the wall working his mind into overtime coming up with excuses as to why he was in the church.
	Was God on his side?  He made it.  No one else was at the church!
	Out the backdoor, across the gravely back parking lot and into the wood grove that was along the river.  Then it was a haul ass run home.  Once more and his mind was in overdrive thinking up an excuse to get out of an ass chewing—followed by an ass whoopin.  He was pretty sure his sisters wouldn’t rat him out and would cover for him.  But his dad…
	There were a couple of directions to make for home from the church.
	Thru the woods was one way and the easiest—but not the quickest.
	The quick way was out to Rt. 2 and cut across a couple of properties and then to his neighborhood.  He hoped to make the backyard and maybe grab a rake or broom or something and be “caught” in the garage doing some chores.
	Exiting the small wood grove and barging across the open ground he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw his dad’s truck at the Shamble Inn (otherwise known as the No-Tell Motel.)
	It was one of those run down establishments long gone past its prime.
	A small gas station was there, a small convenience store, a liquor store, a small general store, pizzeria, and a non-chain mom/pop restaurant.  A huge gravely lot, an ancient device by the phone pole—a phone booth!
	Dad’s truck.
	There was no other truck in town like it; crappy yellow, mix-match yellow fenders, late model 70s, well used, triple layer encrusted dirt, a bumper sticker that said Vote for Dick!
	DJ ducked into the phone booth and waited—and was just in time.
	Just in time to see his DAD come out of room 3C.
	Just in time to see his dad come out of room 3C—hugging a skinny looking tramp who was—naked!  The two hugged, caressed, and DJs dad slapped her ass.  There was more hugging, giggling, and caressing of one another’s hair before daddy Don made his way to the café.  Five minutes later and he came out with a large coffee and fired up his crappy yellow truck.  And off he went out of the lot and down Rt. 3 to work.
	The tramp had closed her door and DJ went to school.

	School was a bummer.  It was Wednesday so Mr. Karlton threw a quiz for the History class.  DJs mind was on his dad—he was thirteen and well enough knew what “cheating” was about.  The evening monkeyshines at the church also weighed on his mind.  End result?  He failed the quiz.
	Didn’t do well on the English quiz, either.
	The math quiz?  He was an “A” student in Math and loved math actually.
	He failed the math quiz.
	That was the morning shift.
	Then there was lunch where he got into with another student who was being an ass.  Generally and DJ let things go and didn’t get into too much trouble—fights and yelling shit with other students.  But Lance Corrp was asking for it—so he got it.  A lunch tray to the back of his head when he turned his head to snicker at his pals at fucking with DJ.
	A fight broke out.  DJ was in no mood to be hauled off to the office; his DAD would be called and he was in no mood to deal with him.  So he ducked out of the fight and went to the gym.  At the lunch room—or on the playground, anytime a fight broke out it was an excuse for virtually everyone to get involved.
	For gym, in lieu of a “quiz” it was run track in a certain amount of time, climb a rope and ring a bell, shit like that.  Study Hall was thereafter and DJ ducked the rest of the day going home where he fumed in his room.
	His sisters would be home soon—he wondered if he should let them in on what he knew?  It was sooo confusing!  Then—
	His anger towards his dad returned to his anger towards the preacher.
	‘going to blow his fuckin’ brains out!’ was DJ’s sentiment.  He chuckled, stood and … 
	The gun.
	The thirty-eight.
	Where was it?
	Can we say panic?
	Thought you could.

	Not in his pants; not in his bookbag—but he hadn’t had it there anyways.
	The weapon had been in his pocket—front pocket.  Now—where was it?
	School?
	He thought—and thought—and thought some more.  He knew he went to gym—but…no gun.  He undressed and … maybe the locker?  Maybe the gun fell out in the locker.  Maybe.  He didn’t think so, though; he thought he would know if heavy weapon like that would clunk to the bottom of his foot locker.
	Where else could it have dropped?
	The phone booth?
	Maybe.
	Behind the sofa at the church?
	…. …. …. Shit-shit-shit-shit—bingo!

	His mind was in multiple pieces; his dad was top, the preacher, the gun, and he still wondered if he had fucked one or both his sisters!  He’d work on fingering that one out later; right now and…
	6PM and there was doings at the church; singing, a social gathering involving a dinner, a prayer warrior group, more goddamn socializing lasting until well after 10PM.  DJ lingered along the edges, went down to the river and skinny dipped, spied on some teens from the church smoking pot and having sex.  It was too dark to really see well the details of their doings but DJ could see some and hear a lot.
	At 10:30PM there was one car in the lot; the preacher Rhichardson’s car.
	The fucker.
	DJ’s hatred of the man soared; even more when he stole his way into the church, banged his knee on an ill-placed short knee catching hall table.  He banged his head against the wall to divert the attention from his knee.
	In the preacher’s office—tsk tsk tsk  more shenanigans of the naughty kind.
	On the desk lay an eleven year old boy, Austin, holding his legs back.

	The naked preacher was in the process of spanking the boy until his ass were bright red and his own hand was stinging.  The boy refused to cry but was hard pressed not to submit.  Another naked boy also eleven, Bart, firstly got on his knees and licked Austin’s shitter—then suckled his ball sac before crawling up onto Austin and grinding his junk against his friend’s.
	The preacher smacked Bart’s ass (but not as hard.)
	Bart yelled out something unintelligible then turned around placing his balls into Austin’s mouth.  Then he laid down to suck on his friend’s cock.  One more boy came up sucking Bart’s ass then clumsily fucking it.  As he got busy with the serious pumping his ass was smacked, too.  The preacher then took a swig from a whiskey bottle then gouged his own cock into Austin’s ass.
	DJ quit watching disgusted by the decadence.  He paused a moment then proceeded to the office across the hall finding his gun where it had slipped out of his pocket behind the sofa.  He held the weapon of destruction for some time deeply contemplating what he was going to do.
	It was a big step.
	He didn’t know how those in the news so carelessly killed.
	So he waited.  And waited.  And eleven thirty came…
	“Geeze, daddy,” Tammie Sue was saying across the hall, “we’re running out of boys!” she giggled and took a spanking to her ass.
	“That’s alright, sweetie,” her preacher daddy replied, “you can start going to High and Mighty Church and get some boys from there.”
	Sonofabitch!
	DJ fumed and clenched the .38 in his hand.
	“Excuse me a minute, daddy, I gotta poo!”
	“Don’t take too long!” her daddy said.
	Tammie Sue left the office for the bathroom down the hall.
	DJ clenched himself—now or never.
	“Hey, asshole!” DJ said coming into the office.
	Preacher Rhichardson was speechless.  His eyes bugged out as he stared at the naked DJ—and his deadly Saturday Night Special—although it was Thursday.
	“Now-now t-take it easy.”
	“FUCK YOU!” yelled DJ, “Turn you’re fuckin’ ass around!”
	Colin Rhichardson wasn’t about to do that.
	DJ stroked his cock saying, “You fucked me, asshole, now I’m gonna fuck you!”
	This was new.
	Colin was sweating, cum dripped from his piss slit, his eyes of cold blue never left the unwavering gun in DJ’s hand.

	“I wanna fuck you in the ass like you did me.”
	Colin paused, hands up, fearful, contemplating if he could charge the young brash bastard and knock the gun out of his hand.  A thousand thoughts rambled thru his mind—forward thinking.  If he DID manage to charge the young boy AND knock the gun out—then what?  Possibly get shot—then what?  Hard to explain that one—him being naked, the young boy naked.  His words would be considered over the boy’s but, still…
	“TURN AROUND!” said DJ a little more sternly, “I WANNA BUTT FUCK YOU!” his cock WAS hard.
	Colin Rhichardson’s first thought was “NO” and to stand his ground.
	What if the boy DID want to merely fuck his ass?
	“What if I don’t?”
	“I don’t give a shit if you don’t,” DJ said angrily, “I just want to fuck your ass like you’ve fucked mine.  That’s all!”
	“Then why the gun?”
	“To make sure that you do it!”
	Slowly—slowly—against all better judgement the man turned around.  He got on his knees, spread his legs, and waited for DJ to butt fuck him.  And DJ DID come up to him slapping the man’s ass with his cock, dragging his cock up and down the man’s ass and stabbing the man’s turd way.
	Colin wondered what his daughter would think of them when she came back?  Colin normally didn’t TAKE dick—not in his ass anyways.
	“So you gonna fuck me or what?”
	“Yeah,” DJ said smartly, “good and hard, too.”
	And he shoved the barrel into the man’s rectum—no pausing—and pulled the trigger.

	There was a sound of an explosion—and in the quiet room with only the hum of the water cooler and the air conditioner making the only sound there was a definite “sound.”
	But the man’s asshole sufficed enough in muffling the noise.
	Another squeeze of the trigger and the man fell dead away onto the floor.
	Dead away.
	DJ paused then, staring at the lifeless body.
	Another sound interrupted DJ’s sullen thoughts—humming.  Tammie Sue.
	When Tammie Sue entered the office—
	“What the hell?”
	The crappy green sofa was turned over forming a “V” tent.
	No sign of her preacher daddy.

	“What’s going on?” she said seeing the naked DJ standing there, “what are you doing here?”
	“You’re daddy called for me, we’re playing a game.”
	Tammie Sue was confused.
	“Where’s my daddy?”
	“He’s a part of the game,” DJ explained, “I’m supposed to be fuckin’ you and he’s supposed to bust us.”  Like always.
	Tammie Sue nodded her head.  She was soooo pretty.  It was a shame…
	DJ smiled; he had a helluva smile; and those eyes!  There was boyish charm that won the girl over.  She shrugged, smiled, and let DJ position her over the apex of the tipped over sofa.  Then DJ began spanking her—she liked that shit.  He fingered her pussy, poked her asshole, then inserted his cock and “got after it.”
	Tammie Sue grunted; DJ fully inserted his cock and got busy with the butt fucking.  Then he pulled out gliding his cock against the girl’s pussy.
	‘I’m doing this for your own good.’ he said under his breath.
	“What?” Tammie Sue asked.
	It was complicated; the girl shouldn’t be without her daddy; there would be too many questions from investigators—why was her daddy under the sofa, naked, with a bullet trace traced from his asshole.  Whether or not the other boys would come forth and spill wasn’t known.
	DJ inserted the bloodied/shitty barrel of the .38 into the girl’s asshole and fired once.  Then to make it interesting he put the barrel into her pussy—and pulled the trigger once.

	An hour, hour and a half, DJ sat watching the girl.  Her daddy was indeed tucked underneath the upturned sofa.  At length he sighed, stood up and peed onto Tammie Sue’s ass—aiming for her hole and pussy.
	As he turned to leave, “Guess you wont be fuckin’ any more boys.”
	Shutting off the lights he left the building sneaking his way home.  Halfway home and he paused long enough to dress.  At the hotel again he paused noting his dad’s truck was there.
	‘Fuckin’ asshole!’ he called out.
	He hefted the .38 but shook his head tossing the weapon into the sewer.
	At home and he was in a funky mood; he showered, vomited, retched, vomited some more, then sat on the bathroom floor losing himself.  He cried, retched, and passed out from exhaustion.  That’s how his sisters found him.  They carried their naked brother to his bed and figured he had started out drinking early, too.  Just like them.
	“Dad’s out screwing around again.” Megan said flatly.
	It was 6AM.  Arlene shrugged, “At least he stays out of our hair.”
I’m not twisted—but I am slightly bent
	“Venger!?” pause  “OUR Venger?”
	“You know another?”
	Rose couldn’t think straight.  Venger.  The Mob wanted Venger iced.
	“Why?” she asked—she had to ask.
	“Lots of reasons,” Clavis sighed, “mostly he’s cutting into their action.”
	Money, prostitutes, trafficking stolen goods—children, shit like that.
	“Wh-what are you going to do?”
	Frankly, Clavis hadn’t a clue.
	A hundred gee’s up front, another four when the job was done.
	Five hundred thousand dollars!  Was that what a man’s life was worth?
	According to the Mob—yes!
	Lying in bed, staring mindlessly up to the ceiling, “I have no idea.”
	He did, but it required a lot of planning.
	(and it DID require icing Venger!)

What time is it?
	It’s Jolly time!
	It festered in him; it annoyed him; it drove him.  Somewhere in the world was his daughter—her head filled with lies and untruths that only he could decipher and set straight.  First, though, he had to find her.  Certain powerful friends had abilities to hack into the main frame of city computers and had access to certain employees who had access to main frame computers.  Still, the information Jolly sought was elusive.  He needed another angle, another source to find his daughter.
	That angle led him to a church and to Mitchell Mikall.
	One fine Sunday morning just before the 2nd service (11AM) and Jolly enabled his Divine Plan.  Previously and Jolly had noted the Target being “friendly” with his daughter, Trisha.  Trisha was thirteen, long-long honey blond hair, long-long body, shapely, super nice ass with accompanying nice titties.  A great smile; perfect teeth, dazzling eyes, sensible jewelry (no nose studs, no lips studs, shit like that.)
	The father was tall, dark hair (not blond like his daughter); broad shoulders.
	The father/daughter friendly was more than “friendly.”  Jolly observed on the sly the father “on the sly” sliding his hands from behind over his daughter’s shoulders and down her front slyly copping a feel of her bodacious ta-tas.  The teenager turned around quickly slapping her father’s chest but she was not angry.  They were at a church function and there were other peoples about—but none were close enough to see the daddy’s sly actions.
	The actions, though sly, had Jolly’s attention.
	More attention was garnered when it was learned that the Target’s wife worked at a social services department in the City.  That was interesting because she then would have access to files—pertinent files Jolly Mack was interested in.
	The teenage girl was interesting, too.
	To enable his plan required some time, some finesse, some gall.
	Jolly Mack had the gall, it was the rest he would have to work on.
	So, in the meantime…

Barfy McBooger Stain!
	“Knock it off, booger breath!”
	“It’s MY TURN, dog face!”
	“You gave up YOUR turn, fart face!”
	“No I didn’t, barf burger!”
	“Did so!”
	“Ut-uh!”
	“Yeah, huh!”
	“I’m tellin’ mom, pig face!”
	“You do and I’ll pound you, Barfy McBooger Stain!”
	“ENOUGH!” yelled the arguing kids’ mother walking in.
	Mom was pissed; whatever the kids were arguing about had gotten her attention and she—had had—enough.  The kids froze, they knew they had pushed it too far but had thought she wasn’t close enough to barge in on them.
	In a nice modern day home in the shadow of the City, Michelle Kopesetic and her younger brother, Zack, fought over video game in their living room.  With the furnishings, paintings, knick-knacks, and so on it was clear that there was no “man” in the house.  The mom, Maureen, was a woman on the edge; raising two young kids, maintaining a big two-story home, holding down a corporate job, dealing with jerks at said corporate job, arguing children had pushed her too far.
	Plopping down on the very nice paisley sofa she jerked her young seven year old son to her swatting his ass.  It sort of shocked his sister who tensed up.  Sure, as an older sister she enjoyed seeing her brother get in trouble—usually yelled at or punished in some fashion other than physical.
	But one swat wasn’t enough—another came to the boy who stamped his feet and wailed.  Michelle gulped and clenched her fists.  Then—THEN to her shock her mother yanked down Zack’s pants and swatted him again!
	“Holy shit!” blurted the girl aloud.
	Mom was pissed and glared at her young daughter.
	Then down came Zack’s underwear and another swat smacked him hard.
	“I have told you—and told you—and told you to get along and stop your damn arguing!” Mom’s limit had definitely been pushed.
	Michelle was crying; brother Zack was more so.
	“I’m sorry!” wailed the girl.
	“Are you?” angrily whipped her mother.
	The pretty girl clad in a one-piece over-all outfit of light pink (with a dark pink girlie shirt underneath) nodded her head.  Her honey brown hair was in twin braids that hung down her chest; she had been angry earlier but now was frightened out of her wits.
	“GET OVER HERE!” her mother yelled.
	Like wadding thru a cement creek the girl bawled her way to her mother and brother.  The boy was furiously rubbing her blistered ass.
	“On your knees!” said her very pissed off mother.
	Michelle went to her knees having a close up view of her brother’s bum.
	Sure, as brother and sister of close age they had seen one another naked; they even had bathed together!  Michelle could feel the heat from her brother’s butt.  Then,
	“If you’re sorry,” said her mother, “then kiss his butt.”
	A bloodied axe murderer with a bloodied axe busting thru the front door wouldn’t have had an impact on the young girl—she was unmoved.
	“W-what?”
	“If you’re sorry—KISS—HIS—BUTT!”
	Michelle shook her head slowly—‘no fucking way.’
	So mom swatted her son’s bare ass HARD.
	The boy’s screams reached that level where only dogs could hear.
	Terrified, confused, horrified, Michelle wailed as she leaned in and put her lips to her brother’s smooth burning red ass.
	“Each cheek!” insisted her mother.
	Crying and carrying on the girl kissed Zack’s other cheek.
	Maureen then stood her son up, pulled off his blue shirt—then stepped him out of his pants and undies.  Turning him around SHE FONDLED HIS JUNK!  His little cock and balls she fondled-fondled-fondled.  It wasn’t really too shocking for Michelle but she did feel that it was—a bit odd.
	Then—
	“Kiss his pee-pee.”
	OMG!
	Michelle brown eyes widened in pure unadulterated shock.  She couldn’t even summon up a “NO FUCKING WAY!”
	Way.
	Like a hand—and invisible hand pushing from behind her on her shoulders, Michelle “went down” on her brother’s pee-pee.  She kissed the bulbous tip before being encouraged “strongly” encouraged to suck on the head.
	After diddling her tongue in the piss slit the very frightened and mostly confused girl began taking the brotherly dong into her mouth.  At seven year’s old, though, Zack’s schlong wasn’t much to take.  (and it didn’t take but a couple of up and down motions to get the smallish wang hard.
	Zach’s ass was still on fire but so was his mind.  Confusion reigned supreme.  His mom stood him off to one side and it was his sister’s turn.
	Sure, young Zack had seen his sister naked many-many times and it was no big deal.  This time, though…
	Maureen undone her daughter’s bib-overall, the brass coupling.  The garment easily fell away and then her pink shirt was removed followed by the lowering of her off-pink panties.  Only when her mother pulled her to her knees did the girl freak out knowing what was pending.
	“NOOOO!” she screamed and wailed.
	But mom was strong and pulled her naked daughter to her lap and smacked her ass right quick.
	Michelle screamed—and was hit again.  And then again.  And then once more before Zack was taken by the elbow and moved into position behind his distraught sister.
	“Kiss her butt.” his mom said flatly.
	The boy was too confused to comply.  He couldn’t comprehend the command and needed outside “help.”
	Slowly and the seven year old—eight in five months—leaned in to his sister’s sweet bright reddened ass…and kissed it.  And then again on the other cheek before going for the deuce.  The hole.  The funk hole.  The stinker.
	It was at that time the boy’s mind blanked out.
	His sister was still with some of her mind (but was close to losing it, too.)
	The kids’ mom, Maureen, still retained some of her faculties—but not for long.  She wavered between realities and was high strung on WTF?  Michelle was turned about and perched on her mother’s knee; legs spread.  The boy was “encouraged” to “lick her out” where she peed from.  The boy stared and stared and tried in vain to comprehend the command.  He eventually complied—again, strongly encouraged and basically “pushed” into service.
	One lick, two lick, three lick—four!
	Maureen’s eyes of brown bulged as her mind tried to grasp what was going on.  Her young son LICKING her young daughter’s vagina!  And after licking—fucking!  He wasn’t particularly good at it (but it was his first time!)  Zack required a lot of schooling; his little dick gouged his sister’s slit, barely made entry, bent, and took nearly 3-minutes before it finally—FINALLY! went in.
	Michelle made a yelp as she was breeched.  Her hymen was still intact, though—Zack’s schlong was not enough to bust that.  Yet.
	‘take—off—your—clothes.’
	Maureen shook her head, she slung her head, she clenched her head.
	“W-what?”
	‘get undressed—now!’
	Maureen was already at the breaking point of what she could cope with; the command to get naked—in the presence of her children was a bit much.  But then—then she was!  She couldn’t believe it—it was like—it was like someone else was undressing her; but she herself was doing the undressing.  She wore sensible clothing; a beige vest, white blouse, knee length beige slacks.  Off those garments came falling away to the carpeted floor unfolded.  Off came her beige bra concealing those very nice 32-Bs.  Her auburn hair was nice; full bodied, lots of life, just to the shoulders—professionally styled.
	Maureen stood clenching her fists; her eyes of brown stared straight ahead to the stranger before her.  In her frazzled mind she couldn’t even summon up a “who are you?”  The “stranger” stared back—and did so for some minutes before taking matters into his own hands—literally—by taking the woman’s beige panties down.
	A colorful butterfly was on the upper area of her womaness.  A rearing, snorting unicorn was on the opposite side; on her right butt cheek was a flying bat with Russian cryptic words underneath (I come for you); and a coiled green snake with wings and a face of a demon woman on the other cheek.
	Positioning the woman on the sofa, legs spread wide, Jolly Mack eyed the delectable pussy of the woman; not hair one!  The kids stood off side in total bewilderment.  The stranger undressed and stood masturbating before them.  He even had Barfy McBooger Stain and Pig Face masturbate him—followed by kissing the head of his pee-pee and then—THEN suck!
	Barfy McBooger Stain—aka Zack—made a face of extreme displeasure as he engulfed the head of the stranger’s schlong.  The boy fondled the man’s hairless ball sac and sucked on the head until it seemed as though he were about to spew.  Not wanting to deal with vomit on his junk and Jolly had the boy quit—and allow his sister, Pig Face aka Michelle, to have her turn.
	After sucking Jolly’s schlong, Zack was pressed into licking out his mom’s pussy.  Jolly masturbated furiously as he watched the tyke lick.  His mom was only partly aware—she was too confused to fully comprehend.  Michelle wailed as she was fully aware.  Jolly held her to himself, fingering her pussy and clutching her tightly to himself (with his cock pressed up between her legs.)
	And after licking his mom’s cunt—
	Fucking!
	Fucking his mom’s cunt.  But like with his sister, Zack’s little schlong wasn’t quite up to the task.  Jolly smacked the boy’s ass, fondled his balls, and gingerly guided the lad’s dork into his mom’s twat.
	Still no-go.
	Soooo,
	Positioning his sister on the cushion beside his mother, spreading the girl’s legs, and coercing her to finger herself—ta-da!  Success!  Zack’s cock intensified by a visual aid got hard enough and he pumped his mom’s pussy with great vigor.  Sure, it wasn’t a “tight” pussy but that part didn’t matter.
	After a couple of minutes of earnest pumping and the boy was switched out.
	Maureen’s eyes were glazed over.  Jolly smiled at her and as he entered her juiced up cunt he caressed her face.  Beside them and Zack was once more pressed into fucking his sister.  The girl wavered between realities; the boy had no idea but to go with the flow—and fuck!
	Jolly got his jollies with the kids’ mother then turned his attention once more to the kids.  With his cock still raging hard he took over fucking Michelle while Zack squashed himself on his mother’s face—his cock buried into her mouth.  Michelle wiggled some as Jolly’s mighty dick entered her.  He wasn’t able to make full vaginal entry but that was alright.  He pumped, spewed, poked her asshole, humped her gash, re-fucked her cunt, and finished with cumming on her sweet-sweet face.
	Then he took a shower, had some wine, and took a nap!
	Upon awakening—he boned Maureen again.  It felt good.  She moaned, she groaned, her face was perplexed—as was her mind.  This allowed Jolly to dink with her mind having her mindset of engaging sexually with her children.  Not only would she suck the bejeezus out of her son AND have sex with him she would also lick out her daughter’s cunt.  Zack and Michelle would continue to have sex—all with mom’s blessing!
	Jolly then re-fucked Michelle getting his cock into her sex a little further.
	More wine, another nap, then he was off to contemplate the mysteries of his life.

The Last Star Fighter—alive and well living at the beach front Star Light Trailer Park
	The cabinet hummed (and was warm!)  Sounds aplenty “exploded” from the speakers accompanied by flashes of lights.  A Kodan destroyer was to the left; another hid among the starlestrial amoebas swarming that part of the galaxy.  A pair of cruiser and a small armada of assorted ass-kickers thwarted Alex’s attempt at a high score.  Not just a high score but THE high score—currently he had amassed 4,450,909 points.  The goal, the ultimate goal for All Time High Score was 5,000,000.  Knocking out the destroyer and the cruisers would get him to that goal—but first!
	The armada.
	It was 10PM in the Star Light trailer park nestled against the beach nestled against the grand ocean.  It was a rundown park for trailers—and people.  Mostly retired folk dwelled there but there were others; some worked, some were lazy, some were disabled, some were children, some were Alex Rowgann.
	Alex was sixteen; a nice guy, goofy looks, not enthused with sports, hankering for a better life—out of the trailer park where he lived with his little brother and single mother.  Alex’s passion was the video game; there were a couple of pinball machines and other tabletop video game consoles; but the stand alone video console “The Last Starfighter” was the coolest and one that Alex excelled in.  (his mother, of course, wished that he would “excel” in school but whatever made him happy—ier.
	Blasting the armada was first up in his quest at blasting the cruisers and destroyer.  Not an easy task; Alex already had spent a good part of an hour making it to the final battle of the galaxy—yay, the universe!  The snack bar slash mini grocery store had already closed; Jamis, the old black caretaker and operator of the store was sweeping up and came to watch Alex make his way to the top high score of all time.
	“Good gravy!” said Jamis, “You’s jest about got it!” the old retired truck driver cheered Alex on and got him a free bottle of rootbeer for his efforts.  No one in the park had even come close to the Alex’s already high score.  There were other teens who came to the park; friends and relatives of the park’s inhabitants, friends of Alex—none had ever made it to the Final Battle.
	In the park there was a girl—of course!  She was sort of/kind of Alex’s girl.  They weren’t dating, they hadn’t had sex; they were “friends”.  Maggie, the girlfriend, was “sweet” on Alex; there were boys at their high school who wanted Maggie as their own and plied her with gifts, showered her with affection—unwanted, and wooed her.  She was “friends” and friendly with them but was not interested in pursuing anything with any of them.  She liked Alex ‘cause he was not after her—he wasn’t seeking her body just her friendship.
	Racking up such a high score garnered Alex “several” free plays.
	That came in handy when just shy of reaching the high goal he got blasted by a hiding in 3rd space an unknown destroyer.  While trying to recover the remaining armada plus a remaining cruiser AND the ultimate Kodan destroyer descended on his smallish vessel and…blasted him.
	So he had to start over.
	500,000 points from the Ultimate High Score.
	Fuck, shit, piss, motherfucker!
	A hour and some minutes and…blasted.
	“Aw, shit, boy, you jest about had it.” said a disappointed Jamis.
	“Yeah.” said an even more disappointed Alex.
	Sighing, Alex shook his head—he had racked up 10 free plays.
	But it was late; it was the weekend, no school tomorrow but he had some chores to do around the park—his mom was the park manager.  She worked, too, as a waitress in the nearby pisshole town.
	“You gonna try again?” Jamis asked.
	“Nah, not tonight.” Alex said—he had come so close!
	Disgruntled; aka pissed, Alex sauntered to his home.  Jamis tsked-tsked-tsked, shook his old grey head, stared at the flashing lights on the game console, and recalled fondly when he was a child—chasing jack rabbits, chasing girls, skimming rocks, skinny dippin’, playing the harmonica, chasin’ girls, working the fields—to this day he couldn’t stand green beans!  And chasin’ girls.  There were no electronic games “back in his day.”
	The Last Star Fighter slumped into bed and knew no more for some time to come.  His little brother, Louis, however…
	Not asleep.
	He had been waiting—laying in wait so to speak.  He had his own room, it was small but it was in a 1960s style trailer.  Their mother, Jane, had the master room—not much bigger than the boys’ rooms.  She was sound asleep.  The hour was late, 11PM, and Louis slowly crept from his room.
	Down the hall, to the small kitchenette and out the side door.
	Summer was upon the trailer park; the juxtaposition of the park with the ocean to one side and a desert occupying space on the other made the summery nights—warm.  It was almost 18 degrees Celsius (90 F) when Louis slipped out of the trailer.  There was a dim light above the door, one at the gate, then a couple of lights on phone poles throughout the park semi strategically placed.
	Ms. Maddison’s dog, Little Boy, barked.  Louis flipped him off and continued on his way.  Mr. Ha was up late, again, watching television.  Louis liked Mr. Ha, he was Korean and made the best candies!  Dobey McKillus sat on his front porch, naked, smoking a joint.  Dobey, or Dopey as the park’s residence referred to him as, had a broken body—a result from his stint as a rodeo cowboy.
	On he went.
	It should be noted, here, that directly across from the Star Light trailer park was the No-Tell Motel—remember?  DJs dad flinging his fling with the tramp?
	Down a path, a short-cut, and to the sort of alley where he met up with Maggie.
	“Sorry I’m late,” he said with a shrug, “Alex just got in.”
	“How’d he do?”
	“He didn’t say so I guess he didn’t make it.”
	Maggie sighed, that was a bummer; Alex didn’t have a lot going for him, goals and such.  The Star Fighter game was really something for him.
	Down a small pathway that eventually led to the remote beach.  The beach was inaccessible except for those from the trailer park.  The beach was concave surrounded by big slick rocks, seaweed, discolored sand, noisy waves, more sand, more rocks, and shallow wade pools—then an immediate steep deep drop-off.  The currents of the sea were at the ready to suck unwary waders and swimmers out to their watery deaths.
	But the pathway diverted to an open cave; a mass of overgrowth had covered a section of landscape whereas the path going thru formed a sort of “cave” being some 30 feet by 20 feet.  About in the middle there was another cave, or indentation.  This was Maggie and Louis’ destination.
	The inner cave had a few items; planks of wood, an anchor, non-working brass lantern, odds and ends suitable for a boat, ship, shit like that.  The local youths made the cave their hideout and played “pirate.”
	Maggie and Louis played something else.
	There wasn’t much light; Maggie had a small handheld flashlight and sat it up on its end so it’s light illuminated the small cave.  Thereafter and Maggie’s hand went straight to Louis’ crotch.  Louis giggled and as he was fondled he pulled off his shirt.  Maggie undone his pants and tugged them down along with his undies.  Fondle! Fondle! Fondle!  Louis had wood.
	Off came Maggie’s top; no bra.  down—and off—came Maggie’s jeans AND panties.  Sitting on her clothes, legs spread, she continued to tantalize her young charge.
	“Alex would flip if he knew about this.” chuckled Louis.
	“I bet.” said Maggie seriously.
	So would his mother.
	Caressing Louis bare ass she drew the boy to her placing his little dick between her teenage titties.  She loved little boys, not too young, but none older than ten—there was that one boy, though; he had been eleven.  Exceptions.
	With the ocean’s waves crashing in the background, Maggie took Louis’ puddling into her mouth and sucked him hard.  Louis liked—a lot!  Maggie liked, too.  A lot!  She sucked the boy’s fuzzless ball sac, squeezed his butt cheeks, and sucked-sucked-sucked him.  The she laid down, spread her legs wider, and positioned Louis between.  It wasn’t their first time and Louis glided his cock into Maggie’s willing cunt.
	The girl moaned open entry.  Alex would indeed “flip.”

	Sure, he wasn’t a pro but that didn’t matter; not to Maggie.  Clutching the boy’s smooth ass the middle aged teen shuddered as she felt a wave of orgasm shudder thru her.  She tried to pull the boy into her being; her legs wrapped about his the two wallowed in their illicit union.
	Another wave she endured; looking into DJs eyes she saw her reflection and saw the boy’s glazed over eyes.  He sighed deeply and lay on her mindlessly fondling her sensitive breasts.  For a moment—nothing.  Only the sound of the crashing waves outside the cave made the only interruption.
	Then,
	“Louis?  Louis?  You in there?”
	Shit.  Shit-shit-shit-double fucking shit.
	Maggie froze—this wasn’t good.
	Louis froze—ejaculated—relaxed even more, then turned his head.
	“What?”
	“Been lookin’ for ya.”
	“You found me.”
	Maggie sighed and relaxed a little, it was Louis friend, DJ.	
	DJ entered the not-so-secret cave.  Squatting down and letting his eyes adjust to the darkness—the flashlight Maggie had had been knocked over during her fuck fest with Louis, he smiled at Maggie.  He could just see her delicious globes.
	“Hi.” DJ said kind of embarrassed.
	Maggie sighed, “Hi.”  Good timing…
	“What’s doin’?” he asked.
	Both Maggie and Louis looked to the boy conveying ‘are you serious?’
	Louis eased off of Maggie and sat on his clothes methodically fondling his dick—realizing that he had cum.  Maggie wouldn’t like that; she liked young boys ‘cause they had a low potential of getting her pregnant.  The cum coating his cock was slick, slippery, icky.
	“What are you doing out so late?” Maggie asked.
	“Goofing around,” DJ said with a shrug, “checking up someone, spying on people.”
	DJ was an alright kid, she knew his sisters, knew about his mom (and knew about his cheating dad, too!)
	A slight moment of pause came upon them, then—
	Noting DJ gouging the heel of his hand to his apparent boner,
	“You might as well join us.” Maggie said to him.
	DJ knew that Louis and Maggie were fooling around but he had yet to join in.  Quickly he pulled off his shirt and shucked his shoes and jeans.  Maggie fingered herself and was only mildly aware of the “extra” viscous goo on her pussy.  Louis was ten, did he cum? she wondered.  He was almost eleven, of course; boys at that age were cummers.  But what about ten year olds?
	Before any panic could beset the teen DJ was between her legs with his teenage dick leading the way.
	Suck-suck-suck!  Maggie’s mouth enveloped DJs dong; she talently rolled her tongue about the super sensitive crown, diddled the piss slit, then marched down the shaft tantalizing the boy to no end.  He was speechless!  Maggie gripped his smooth white ass totally mesmerizing the boy until he right off blew a load.  The spunk blasted off in her mouth coating her tonsils.
	“Goddamn!” announced the boy.
	Maggie coughed a little, sputtered, and spit out the goo.  She wasn’t a swallower!  She did fondle his balls and contemplate her next move.  The boy wasn’t ready to quit; he was young, viral, hard, and “ready” to go again.  Maggie found, too, that her pussy was “swamped” and aching.
	‘you’d better not get me pregnant!’ she cooed to herself then positioned herself on her clothes.  A smile on DJs face would be there for some time.  Laying down on the girl his cum squirter firstly grinded against Maggie’s snatch.  Louis masturbated beside them watching—he liked to watch people fuck.  Maggie reached between their bodies finding the boy’s love tool and guided it into her sex.
	The fuck was on.

*

And the Lord said unto John “Come forth and receive eternal life!” But John came fifth and received a free toaster
	Sunday morning worship; the choir was in rare form—they were singing together on cue and in key!  The congregation was numerous (which pleased the preacher (and the treasurer!)).   Target Mitchell Mikall (remember him?) copped a feel of his teenage daughter (which pleased Subjector Targeter Jolly Mack.)
	A plan had been set in motion since the first time Jolly had noted Mitchell “copping a feel.”  The teenage daughter didn’t seem all that opposed, either.  That was interesting.  The girl, clad in a short-short skirt (inappropriate for wearing to church but whatever) was a happy-go-lucky girl; long-long blond hair, nice-nice titties, great ass.  Her daddy firstly embraced his child hugging her from behind sliding his hands down her front squeezing her breasts.  The girl, Trisha, did so infacto “reach” behind her to grasp holt of her daddy’s bulge.  She did!
	It was assumed that if they had had time (and privacy) they would have fucked right then and there.  As it was, they were in the enclosed foyer where there were a few patrons of the church mingling; a few desks with propaganda (and propaganda pushers) scattered about, and no place for fucking.
	Enter Jolly.
	Jolly wasn’t alone.  He carried in his arms a pretty five year old.  She was wiggly, as most children are.  She was cute, chubby cheeks, and wearing an even shorter skirt than Trisha!  But for the five year old it was ok.
	Also with him was a pretty light brown haired girl of twelve—almost thirteen!  An eleven year old and a very pretty eight year old.  All clad in short dresses appropriate for church wear.
	Jolly and Mitchell locked eyes; Jolly nodded and shifted the little tyke in his arms angling his body just so—just so as no one lingering in the foyer could see.  Could see the fact that the little five year old was going Commando!  No panties!
	The fact was indeed seen by the Target—his eyes feasted—FEASTED on the child’s nakedness.  Daringly, Jolly opened the girl’s legs giving Mitchell a reason to live.  The tallish man eyed the little girl’s naked poon and moaned eternally.  Jolly nodded to the man conveying subtly “come here—come here and I’ll give you a better view.”
	Up close and personal.
	Mitchell’s daughter scampered off to be with friends and to merge into the church for services had just begun.  Mitchell lingered casually gouging the heel of his hand to his burgeoning boner.  A bead of sweat had appeared on his upper lip and Jolly swore he could hear the man’s heart beating.
	Smiling, Jolly embraced by the shoulders twelve year old Stacie.  Very pretty girl, well poised, beginner’s breasts, slim, trim, smiling, pantiless.
	Mitchell’s eyes widened as Jolly slowly-slowly-s-l-o-w-l-y raised the girl’s light blue flowery mid-thigh length dress—revealing the fact that she also was without proper undergarments.
	‘Oh My God!’ was etched on the Christian man’s lips.
	Jolly could tell that he ached, too.
	“This one, too.” Jolly said gently guiding the eleven year old into a sort of alcove where he not so slowly raised her red flowery dress—no panties!  The man gawking nearly melted.
	“Is there someplace…more private?” Jolly asked.
	Mitchell nodded and produced some keys.  “I have an office.”

Young Marrieds
	Young Marrieds the white plaque on the wall by the door of the brick church building read.  Out of the enclosed foyer, out to the large open foyer courtyard where there were two-two story buildings flanking plus a large community building housing the kitchen, the get-together room, and indoor sports arena.
	Young Marrieds, Singles, Young Adults, Children of various ages, Teens, and so on occupied space in these buildings; Mitchell taught a class “now and then” but not now.  His office was on the outside facing the “C” parking lot.
	Inside he adjusted the a/c; there were two comfy sofas, a desk, a private bathroom, bookcases, no other door(s).  Jolly lifted Gloria’s dress right off and the youngster giggled and blushed.
	Nodding to Stacie and Gabby the girls slipped off their dresses and stood nude—stood nude before an addlepated Mitchell.  Stacie held her hands before her nakedness being embarrassed.  Gabby did likewise while little Gloria swung her arms spinning like a ballerina.
	Time to sate the agitated Mitchell.
	Jolly freed his cock—it was hard and already glistening at the piss hole.
	Waggling his cock and it was little Gloria who took the offering; her little hands gripped the stick and squeezed.  She giggled and was soooo adorable!  Then she kissed the glistening knob before slipping her lips over the head.
	Mitchell looked like he was about to faint.
	Jolly nodded to him saying “They’ll take care of you.” And looking to the two naked girls “Wont you?”
	The girls gulped and nodded; they were embarrassed but got on their knees before the well-dressed tall man.  He fumbled getting his dick out of his black trousers.  It was hard.  Hard enough to hunt with!  Stacie took the man’s prong and looked it over as if she were looking over something to eat at a buffet.  Then she stuck out her tongue and began licking the pisser!
	Had Mitchel Mikall not been against his desk he surely would have collapsed.  Stacie tantalized the man to no end; Gabby laid out on the blue carpeted floor, spreading her legs and sending the 30-something year old into orbit.  Then he looked to Jolly and Gloria—and Gloria was with her mouth fully over the man’s cock head—and sucking!
	Sperm exploded from Mitchell’s dick splattering onto Stacie’s face.
	She didn’t really appreciate it all that much; she made a yucky sound and equally yucky facial expression.
	“Suck him.” Jolly told the girl.
	Stacie made another face of displeasure; but, closing her eyes she took the man’s cock into her mouth and sucked-sucked-sucked (all the while gagging and making faces.)
	“Does your daughter suck you?” Jolly asked off-handedly.
	“Not yet.” The girl Jolly had seen WAS masturbating her daddy; they got naked together, he fingered her, she toyed with his cock AND occasionally got him off.  No anal, no vaginal.  Mitchell didn’t even go down on her—yet.
	Despite cumming, Mitchell’s dick remained steadfastly hard.
	Gabby remained on the floor friggin’ her sex.
	Jolly nodded to Stacie who had wiped her face off of the goo splatter.  She nodded back and moved onto the comfy cushion of the sofa behind her.  There, perched on the edge of the cushion and her shoulders back to the back of the sofa, she presented herself.  

	Mitchell stroked his cock, glanced to the naked pre-teen on the floor, glanced to the cock sucking five year old, and then to Jolly.  Jolly smiled and nodded and Mitchell positioned himself between Stacie’s legs licking her pussy out to his content.
	Jolly filled Gloria’s mouth with his love cream—then pulled out and humped her sweet-sweet face.  The girl giggled and was pulled up into the man’s arms.  Mitchell licked, lapped, nipped, sucked, and jammed his tongue into the recesses that was Stacie’s cunt.
	No more nodding, no more glancing; after licking his fill of the girl’s poon he moved up guiding his manhood into her crevice.  Stacie grimaced, clenched the edge of the cushion, made another face, and was essentially fucked.  Mitchell guided himself into the girl and in his mind he was fucking his daughter.
	Three minutes in (in Stacie’s pussy) and Mitchell Mikall blew his load.
	Then he melted.
	Pulling out he sat back soaked in sweat; steam wafted off of his bone, his mind was gone.
	‘I can help you—do the same to your daughter.’ Jolly said flatly.
	Mitchell looked to him conveying “Huh?”
	“I can help you,” Jolly said aloud, “fuck your daughter.”
	Mitchell stared at Jolly a couple of seconds, then to Stacie, then back to Jolly.
	“Yeah?” he blinked his eyes and seemed to be in some agony.  Then he nodded, “Ok.”
	Just like that!  Ok!
	Ok!

Friends help you hide the body; best friends help you eat it…
	A great deal of noise was coming from a horse trailer.  There WAS, of course, a horse within the trailer but something was amiss.  The horse wasn’t exactly agitated—just standing there with its big head sticking out the back doors.  It was one of those palomino type horses, very nice looking horse—calm and still.
	It was worth a look.
	Inside the trailer was indeed a full standing palomino horsey—and underneath was a woman all tied up; hogtied and gagged.  She was very upset; even more with the great horse peeing on her.
	DJ looked to Louis, Louis looked to DJ.
	“Should we do something?” Louis asked.
	“I think we should move on.” DJ replied.
	Good idea.

	Sure, fucking a girl, a teenage girl, was fun and all, but so was exploring.
	Louis and DJ, after a time with Maggie, struck off from the trailer park to be boys and explore.
	“Whattya we do now?” asked Louis.  He seldom left the park, he went to school and to the mall—but always with other people.  The park was safer and less risky than the wide world.  But he was in the company of DJ—what could go wrong?

Spy games: the next generation
	It was early morning; Saturday, time for mischief.  From the Star Light trailer park by the sea the DJ and Louis made their way thru a field of wild flowers, weeds, hollihocks, herb geraniums and the like coming to pause at the No-Tell Motel.  DJ’s Dad’s truck wasn’t there.  Didn’t mean anything—they could have hooked up anywhere.  Fuckers.
	The boys kept to the far side of the road in the rough making their way haphazardly along with no destination in mind.  That’s when after emerging thru an open field to a residential area mini park they saw a one Jim Freemon.  DJ knew Jim; he was an alright guy, a nice guy, played soccer and so did DJ.  Jim helped coach DJs soccer team and one time bought pizza for the team when the team won a game.  So he was alright and worthy of seeing what he was up to—‘cause it was obvious to DJ that the fourteen year old was “up to something.”
	In the house of Summer Longtree, Jim and the dark haired girl with a great-great-great tight-tight-tight ass chatted about school, parents, siblings, sneaking out to a secluded party, shit like that.  Also present were Summer’s little sister, Autumn.
	No one seemed to be in the house.  That was good, ‘cause…
	When Summer finally shut up and turned to sort some fresh baked cookies on a cookie tray to transfer them to plastic containers to take to a party no one had to sneak to—
	The fourteen year old suddenly went still.
	Jim let out his breath and hesitated a bit before clearing his throat and stepping closer to the girl.  He brushed up against her.  Nothing.  No reaction.  He put himself “right behind her” seriously invading her space.  No reaction.  Nothing.
	Daringly he put his hand on her butt.
	Holding his breath he waited for her to turn around and smack him.
	Didn’t happen.  Nothing happened.
	On most days and Summer Longtree was in jeans, pants, shorts, sometimes an awesome swimsuit.  On some days and Summer Longtree was in a dress.  She was a bit of a tomboy, pitched for her softball team, climbed trees, rocks, boulders, the school’s buildings…
	But she was, too, a girl.  And sometimes that “girl” came out and chose to wear a dress—mostly to shock her friends and family.  Like me when I drink a glass of water—just to shock my liver.
	Anyways,
	The dress was a nice-nice summery dress; blue, light blue, light and airy, shirtdress with rolled sleeves and almost to the knee.  Her dark hair was thick, long, bouncy and hung loosely on her shoulders.  The was some sort of awesome perfume she wore, too; it sent the fifteen year old boy who contemplated with great trepidation his next move.
	And his next move was “lifting” Summer’s dress.
	Holding his breath he waited…and waited…and realized that they were not totally alone.  Summer’s little sister Autumn was there.  He had totally forgot about her.  She was cute, not a biological sibling but from a new daddy in the family.  Autumn was playing with some baubles and dolls in the adjacent laundry room.  As long as he could hear her he deemed it was safe to proceed.
	Blue panties.
	Light blue panties with white daises all over them.
	Nice.
	Real nice.
	Instant wood.
	Shifting position from Summer’s right side to her left so as he could keep a dutiful eye on the laundry room Jim continued his frolic by slipping his hand inside Summer’s panties.  He fondled, felt, and then delved his fingers into her crack.
	Not a thing from Summer—she didn’t even bat an eye!
	Carefully—carefully-carefully he placed the mind controller onto the granite counter and let out his breath.  How and where he had come to have an illegal-to-possess Device not known.  He had it and that was that.  He inched down the girl’s panties and very nearly fainted.  This was too real.  Out of his jean shorts he freed his aching cock and pressed it against Summer’s thigh, hip, and then her ass.
	He was just about out of his mind.
	Down-down-down came the panties—ALL the way down.
	Panic was etched on the boy’s face.  In the laundry room little Autumn continued singing to her dolls.  Jim put the back of his finger to Summer’s pussy—his mind blanked out and there was a little emission from his pisser.  His mind raced with thoughts of what to do next.
	Carefully-carefully-carefully he turned Summer, hands to her side, and raised her dress up—and off.  It was daring—very-very-daring.  A nice powder blue bra she had on and Jim freed the teenage beauties squeezing them.  He was captivated and begun to have a headache.  A side effect of using an EMAD.

	It wasn’t easy but Jim managed to lay Summer onto the floor on her freshly removed dress.  Panties off her ankles he spread her legs and eyed her pussy with some delight.  A lot of delight.  He drooled.  His cock drooled.  Gulping, sweating, praying, Jim laid his hardened prick against the teen’s twat and began humping.  No penetration; for the moment and he was satisfied with humping the crevice.
	Back to her breasts.  They were fascinating to Jim; he squeezed them, pinched them, kissed them, sucked them.  By then his cock was IN Summer’s cunt and there was nothing to do then but to carry on.  The sensation was incredible.  He had no idea that actually fucking a girl trumped fucking his hand.  Summer made no indications of awareness.  He tried to pump slowly at first—that last about thirty seconds.  As he continued fucking the sensation increased ten-fold.
	And then there was blast off.  The orgasm rocked Jim.  He had jacked off before; he had fucked his bed, pillow, best friend’s ass, but this—this was PUSSY!  Like a rabid rabbit he began to pump like it was his last fuck.
	And then he heard Autumn fart.
	Jim came.
	He felt the surge of his gooey love exploding thru his dick and out his piss slit—and into Summer’s cunt recess.  There was instant satisfaction.  It wasn’t long lasting, though, but it was enough.  He was hooked.  Pussy was the thing.  The only thing.  He strained—pulsated, shivered, shuddered, and completely emptied his balls.  Then he sighed and virtually collapsed onto the unwary Summer.  A second round?  A second cumming?  Yeah, he was ready for it—but first!
	Autumn.
	The little girl was still singing—and farting.  Jim had a slight problem as she was far into the laundry room by the window—and to use the EMAD properly the User had to have a Direct Line o’ Sight.  And pulling out of Summer only caused the boy to shudder and delve his schlong back into her for a quickie.
	And Jim was right into the groove (literally) when the singing child suddenly stopped singing and the shadows told the tale—she was on the move and exiting the laundry room!
	Oh shit!
	Fuckus-interruptus!  Jim flew off of Summer, grabbed the EMAD off the counter, turned, and zapped the little girl who may or may not have seen the naked Jim in the kitchen.
	His heart was beating out of his chest.
	He waited.
	Sweat stung his eyes.
	Cum dripped from his pisser.
	Little Autumn stood absolutely still.

	She had stopped singing, she was carrying one of her dolls in her little hands and was absolutely still.  Jim stepped up to her and went to his knees.  Incredible blue eyes did the child have.  He gave a quirky smile and put his hands on her hips.
	Then her butt.
	Pause.
	Holding his breath and Jim SQUEEZED the six year old’s ass.
	No blinking.  No ahming.  No nothing.
	Jim made a quirky smile, brushed his finger against her lips, then fingered her.  He fingered her.  He put his finger between her legs and FINGERED!
	Nothing.
	The marvel of the EMAD.

	What gall.
	What daring.
	What a way to punch his ticket straight to hell!  After some serious fingering and for no other reason than “just because”; fifteen year old Jim Freemon undone six year old Autumn’s jeans AND TUGGED THEM DOWN!  He did!  Nice yellow kiddie panties greeted him.  A look over his shoulder to the still unwary Summer and Jim tugged down Autumn’s panties and gawked with serious perversion at the child’s nakedness.
	Then he stood and waggled his cock in front of the girl’s face.
	Then he put it in her mouth.
	“Taste your sister’s pussy!” he chortled as he gently pressed his cum squirter into the girl’s mouth.  Not all the way, just the head.  Then he pulled out and pressed his prick against her sweet face before gently laying her down, removing her jeans and panties, spreading her legs—and going down on her.
	His cock ached.
	His balls ached.
	His head ached.
	His tongue—didn’t ache.  His tongue flicked all over the smooth hairless child’s pussy and with some effort he got IN to the girl’s cunny crevice bringing his assault to an apex by laying his prick against the slit and humping thereon.  He humped—humped-grinded-grinded-came.
	The emission was fantastic.  Gobs of sperm exploded onto the girl’s body; most soiled her vagina with a strand streaking up her young naked body.  Jim pressed his cock hard into her groove finding himself desiring deeply wanting to FUCK the child.
	Somehow he managed to curb himself from doing so.  But it wasn’t easy.
	Then the front door opened.
	“Summer, Autumn, you home?”
	Shit—shit—shit-shit-shit-shit-shit.
	“Girls, come help me, I’ve got groceries.”
	Shit-shit-shit-shit-shit-shit-shit-shit.
	Jim could smell the woman’s perfume—something of roses.  She was in the middle of the living room, still calling for her girls, juggling bags of groceries, keys, her life.  Thoughts aplenty ran amok thru Jim’s mind; jumping out in front of her and zapping her with the EMAD; hiding behind the door (and zapping her with the EMAD); running out the backdoor butt naked with no explanation as to why Nina’s two daughters were laying naked on the kitchen floor…
	Nah.
	Panic was trying to ensnare the freshman high schooler—being busted in the house would be bad enough and would warrant a hard stare to both himself and Summer—‘NO BOYS IN DA HOUSE WHEN A PARENTAL UNIT IS NOT PRESENT.’ Standard rule of thumb regardless of how well liked the BOY may be; being busted in the house with the two girls naked on the floor would be quite a trick to explain.
	So he didn’t—he zapped the woman right as she entered the kitchen and was distracted.  She froze solid and Jim felt his soul freeze, too.  Letting out his breath his mind ran crazily.  Now what?  Summer’s bio mother was actually kinda hot.  She was in her thirties; short dark hair with not much style but it was thick and nice regardless.  The hair came to her shoulders and nice coiffed her face.  And what a nice face!  Light makeup, a gentle application of rose perfume, and sensible clothing—a short to the knee greenish knit skirt with matching vest and a light green blouse.
	Taking the bags of groceries and Jim moved slowly in a perpetual motion of being experiencing an out-of-body transition.  It was bizarre.  Nina was unawares and that suited Jim.  He wavered his hand before her beautiful brown eyes, made a fart sound with his hands, and stood NAKED before her!  The woman didn’t bat even an eye!
	Awesome!
	The skirt was undone from behind; a half zipper and the garment easily fell to her ankles.  She wore sensible green dress shoes and hose.  Basic white panties, bikini style!  Jim gulped, sweated, farted, and tugged the woman’s panties down to her knees.
	He was petrified with growing fear.
	‘what the fuck am I doing!?’
	Once Nina was on the floor beside her daughter…

	No thoughts—only action.  His mind was frapped—there was only the pussy.  The pussy.  The pussy.  Nothing else mattered—all there was was the pussy.  The pussy.  “When you’re young,” according to Jim, “there’s nothing more important than fucking—fucking pussy.  When you go to bed at night—pussy.  Pussy is in your dreams.  When you wake up in the morning—pussy.  It’s there all around you all day long.  Pussy makes the world go.”  The philosophy of a horny teenage boy.  Typical.  He liked sports, he liked hiking, camping, fishing, driving his dad’s fucked up truck thru the fucked up desert as fast as possible, he liked hanging with his friends.
	But he loved pussy.
	Pussy was it.  Take that away and there was nothing left to live for.
	Fuck it.
	He didn’t think he would be able to “gently” lay Nina down onto the southwestern style red brick tiled floor—OR be able to pull her back up to re-position her back to where she would remember last being.  He might be able to pull it off but he feared disturbing her and thus “awakening” her.  He’d still be naked and if she should come around and see him…
	That would be bad.
	Panties off, skirt hiked up, legs spread—Jim slid his meat stick nicely into the woman’s cunt.  Summer was his first fuck; he bragged to his friends that he had scored with a couple of girls at summer camp (but that was a lie.)  His only true fuck was his best friend—they “experimented” with sex with sex with each other.  Handjobbing, cocksucking, and ye olde butt fucking.  Just once, any more than that and you could consider yourself gay.
	So Summer was his first—and her mother was his second!  He hadn’t penetrated little Autumn so he didn’t count her.
	Three full minutes later and he unleashed a magnificent load of spunk.
	The act totally drained him.
	Spies DJ and Louis scooted on to their next spy.

Thru the river and over the woods…
	“Kathy Hawyood.”
	“Ooooh, yeah…”
	“And Bonnie Lookhere.”
	“Yes!”
	“Stephanie Burkell, too.”
	“Nora Dunt.”
	“You like her?”
	“Not a question of “like”; you asked who I would like to do…and Nora Dunt I’d like to do!”
	“Ok, yeah, I can see that.”
	DJ and Louis blatantly masturbated in the woods by the river.  They “discussed” the girls they knew and who they would most likely like to “do.”  I.E. fuck.  
	“And Ms. Hoopslurr.”
	“Your teacher!?” exclaimed Louis.
	“Hell yeah!” said DJ.  “She’s like twenty something, smells good, and I’d definitely be up all in her shit!”
	Louis giggled and continued with his wanking.
	Just then and they heard a noisy truck, a delivery truck delivering goods to a small mom/pop store that was across the nearby road.  The driver tossed open the side roll-up doors plucking out some goods.
	The goods was beer.
	“Come on!” said DJ to his young friend and struck off thru the wooded thicket coming out to where there was a good 20 yards of clear space to the truck.
	“Whattya gonna do?” Louis asked.
	DJ didn’t answer but smile his quirky smile.
	“You go stand at the end of the truck and let me know when you see the driver.”
	Louis complied and DJ “helped” himself to some brews.
	“HE’S COMING!” almost shouted too loudly Louis.
	The boys fled back into the woods and kept fleeing to the river.

	“Look what I got from Maggie.” Louis giggled producing a baggie.
	“Holy shit!” DJ said.  He wasn’t too astonished, though.
	The beer wasn’t too cold; but not warm or room temperature, either.
	“Do you know Korabeth Lottsy?”
	“Isnt she that sixth grader?  Long blond and that one time wore that yellow outfit?  Short skirt?”
	“Yeah, that the one—I’d definitely be up in her.”
	“You’d be up in any of them!” Louis giggled and took a hit from his joint.
	“’ceptin’ that Vicky Spew Me!  EWEWE!”
	“Oh, hell no!”
	“And that seventh grade girl, Rhonda.”
	“Oh, yeah—her, the guys all saying she’s “Rhonda, the four-wheel-drive experience!””
	The boy laughed at the misfortunate girls who weighed more than a ton and were capable of making Ray Charles shudder.
	The more the boys drank, smoked, and thought up girls that they would like do—the harder their young schlongs got to be.  And after a time—
	“You ever suck another dude’s dick?” DJ casually asked.
	“FUCK NO!” shouted back Louis—very adamant in his answer.
	DJ shrugged and didn’t pursue his line of thought.
	“H-have you?”
	DJ shrugged, “Nah.”
	“Do you want to?”
	Again, the thirteen year old shrugged and got the last bit of the marijuana.
	Louis slugged down the last of his beer.  Then,
	“Well,” Louis said, “we could do each other if you want.”
	Louis was cute (er, handsome); disheveled brown hair that was unkempt and covered his ears; he was a little shorter than most of his mates which got him the moniker—“Louy the Dewey.”  It was some sort of odd reference to one of Donald Duck’s nephews.
	The boys had already shucked their pants and underwear to be more free about their masturbating.
	“Yeah,” DJ replied, “you want to?”
	“Do you?”
	DJ shrugged; he didn’t really have a lot of friends and he didn’t want to scare the best one he had off.
	“We… could…do it at the same time.” DJ offered.
	“How’s that?”
	DJ proceeded to show him.
	Laying down on a bed of clover with the river nearby being about half a mile into the woods from paved road; a dirt road nearby, a homestead having some redneck trailers but not close, DJ, blushing, patted himself beckoning his young friend to him—and directing him to where he should lay for them to be able to suck one another “at the same time.”

	It was “gay”; he knew—he didn’t care.  It was just experimental anyways and not a life pursuit.  To describe the taste of Louis’ schlong in his mouth?  He couldn’t.  It sort of reminded him, though, of string cheese.  Kinda.  But he found that he was not so much into sucking as he was into fondling.  Caressing Louis’ ass seemed to magically enhance the sucking—his cock he felt harden even more as his hands roamed all over his young friend’s ass.
	Louis retched a couple of times, gagged, and retched some more but otherwise sucked-sucked-sucked DJs dong.  And he was lucky enough to sit up just before DJ’s dong exploded.
	“What the fuck?” Louis exclaimed.
	“You haven’t done that?” DJ inquired.
	Not that he knew of.
	So DJ sucked as hard as he could trying to get Louis to cum.
	He got nothing.  Louis wasn’t ready.
	“It’s baby making stuff; sperm they call it.”
	Louis seemed perplexed.
	“When parents want to have a baby that’s the stuff that does it.”
	That kinda cleared things up.  Kinda.
	“You cant get pregnant by sucking.” DJ amended.  “OR by going up the ass!”
	Louis wasn’t ready for “up the ass”.
	DJ shrugged—he kind WAS ready for “up the ass”.  Not necessarily to himself but he wouldn’t mind trying to bugger Louis.  Oh well, next time—or when he could get the youngster more drunk and high!
	On they went to continue their spying.

Time with Jolly isn’t always jolly
	If you’re gonna fight, fight like you’re the third monkey on the ramp to Noah’s Ark and it’s starting to rain!
	Madalynn Katfish stared at her brothers Harry and Donnie.  Her young mind was totally confused and confounded.  Nothing made sense; she heard words, commands, directions and though lo they were understood it was their context that perplexed her:  take off your clothes.
	The last memory intact was she and her brothers, and younger sister, were playing in their neighborhood park.  Madalynn herself was hanging with her peeps and sort of kind of trying to get “friendly” with Scott Anthenn.  He was a year older and in the 8th grade.  He was a hunk!  She remembered seeing Scott traipse off with her rival, Cynthia Ruizman—she was always out to nab Scott to herself and she seemed to have been successful.  It royally pissed Maddie off and she went to see what they were doing—not expecting to SEE what they were actually doing.
	Behind the park’s abandoned gardener’s shed between the split rail fence and some shrubs Scott Anthenn was banging away on Cynthia.  Scott still had his clothes on sorta/kinda; his green polo shirt was on but his pants and tidy-whiteys were at his ankles.  Cynthia’s pants and panties were off; her red knit shirt she bragged was “expensive” from a high end department store was hiked up exposing her more than ample breasts.  Scott’s hands were all over the girl’s breasts as  much as her hands were all over Scott’s body.
	It infuriated Madalynn—so much she couldn’t see straight.
	So much so that her memories then began to become misconstrued.
	The next thing she knew…
	She was in a place she knew not of; her brothers were standing before her, her little sister was in the lap of a stranger, her surroundings were unknown to her.
	‘take off…your clothes.’ a voice said in her head.
	The confusion in her head riveted her.
	 Brothers Harry, eleven, and Donnie, seven, pushed down their pants and underwear—they looked scared but then again the look in their eyes and yay their sweet boyish faces told another tale.
	Looking to her sister—she was already naked!  The man’s lap she sat in was not her daddy’s lap.  He was a stranger!  The man she couldn’t describe; she couldn’t really see him.  	
	Madalynn was freaking but it was a control freak; she peeled off her own clothes, stood up straight and was highly viewed by her naked brothers.  And although they had seen their sister naked a time or two before—this time was different and both boys got stiffies.
	After about a minute the petrified girl went to her knees before her brothers.  And while SUCKING on her eleven year old brother’s stiffy she fondled the seven year old brother’s stiffy; his ball sac, too.  The eleven year old brother, Harry, stared down to his sister totally mesmerized.  Madalynn, though not a “pro” at servicing schlong did a fare job and managed to bring her brother to orgasm.
	He had cum a couple of times before—just not in his sister’s mouth.
	Madalynn made a yucky sound, retched, heaved, but didn’t spew.  She DID spat out the goo in her mouth; she was into brotherly love but not that much!  After about a minute to recover the girl went on to suck on her little brother’s dong.  He liked it—a lot!
	The boys, then, sucked her!
	Harry first; Madalynn lay out on her clothes on the floor of the dismal room, spread her legs, and clung to herself as the boys took their turns licking her out.  She squirmed, grimaced, wriggled, and then took on a facial expression suggesting “OOOOOH!  YEAH!”  Harry had licked her igniting something in her she had never felt before.  Harry himself wasn’t so much into the act of cunnilingus as it did nothing for him.  But he was a little enthused ‘cause it seemed to do something for his sister.
	At eleven, Harry sorta/kinda knew what fucking was about—kinda/sorta.
	He knew that “fucking” resulted in a girl/woman getting pregnant and having a baby nine months later.  He DIDN’T know that it felt good while doing so!  There was a little discomfort in both parties but the sensation of fucking was fucking sensational!  Fuck!	
	Harry wasn’t particularly expert on the art of screwing; his dick slipped out, popped out, bent this way and that, but ultimately managed to bring the boy to his second orgasm…and his sister her first.

	Little Donnie was next—not too enthused about licking his sister’s quim after brother Harry had fucked it and left it “messy.”  So Harry used his sister’s panties to wipe her cunny clean and then the young brother licked heartily.
	He fucked heartily just as well.
	Then Jolly did.

	“Uhm, should we do something?” whispered Louis.
	“I AM doing something!” whispered back DJ.
	Sneaking about the woods the boys came up on what looked like a small-small farm; there was a vegetable garden, some fruit trees, a horse corral with sheds and shit like that.  There, too, was a crappy-crappy-oh-so-crappy 1950s style trailer, a Boss 4-wheel drive 1960s pick-up, and an old school bus that no longer carried passengers.
	One of the outbuildings of well weathered wood got DJs attention; just as the boys were skirting the outer area of the property they saw a tall red haired man escorting some children inside.  He looked casually all around before entering—did he see DJ and Louis?  The boys had ducked down hopefully being obscured from the man’s sight.  The red haired man entered the building and the boys hesitated a moment then slowly broke the line crossing the open area, hiding behind the mega 4-wheel truck, then darting to the school bus that was “on blocks”, then to a small farm tractor before scooting to the outbuilding of interest.
	A window here, a window there, all were encrusted with age and prevented the boys from seeing whatever was going on within.  But a lone window towards the rear of the well-weathered building circa 1880s gave the spying lads some insight.
	Standing on a rain barrel the boys watched as the tall red haired man firstly enjoyed the little girl on his lap; while the girl’s sister and brothers watched in some horror, the red haired man FINGERED the naked four year old.  His cold eyes stared down the siblings.  His cock nestled against the child’s bald cunny and then—THEN he had the sister and brothers come up to them.
	Waggling his cock he said to the girl, “Suck it.”
	The girl, of course, was petrified, shook her head saying “No way.”
	The man smiled and said back to her, “If you don’t, she will!”
	Madalynn licked her lips—then licked the man’s cock.  All up and down, suckled his hairless nut sac then suckled on the head of the man’s cock until she got another mouthful of jiz.  Coughing, sputtering, finally vomiting, Madalynn swore never to suck dick again.
	The red haired man squeezed the naked four year old to him all the while rubbing his cum squirter against the four year old’s cunny.  Spreading her legs over his legs he then beckoned the boys to either “Suck my dick” or “lick her pussy.”
	Neither boy was into “sucking dick” but they were not also into “licking pussy.”  The lesser of two evils?  Harry closed his eyes and licked the little girl’s pussy.  He made a face—she had recently peed and the taste of pee was distasteful.  Luckily and he only had to lick a couple of licks.  Seven year old Donnie made more of a face,
	“OH YUCK!” he complained.
	Holding the child on his lap with her legs spread over his, Jolly Mack enticed Donnie to “fuck.”  A lot of enticing was needed, a swatting to his ass, threat of punishment, and so on convinced him to proceed.  He kinda liked it; it was a new sensation he hadn’t experienced before.  His confusion, though, disrupted the fullness of the appreciation of the fuck act.
	Harry took on the fuck act with a little more gusto and a lot more appreciation.  He, too, though, was confused equally and not so much into boning such a wee little lass.
	And he came.
	The act of blowing his load blew his mind.
	The spying boys spanked their monkeys, rubbed their monkeys on each other (in a playful manner) then slipped away from the fray back into the woods.
	**this is a short offering (48 pages on Word) but there hasn’t been a posting “in awhile”; sorry about that, there’s been a health issue here of late.  More to cum soon!**