August Moone
Book 8
Chapter Thirty Four
The Meaning of Life 
(the third cumming)

the adventure—it still continues!
	“Did you hear about Angus?”
	This after being woked up from a sound-sound sleep.  Brianna had been dreaming—kind of faded, a little funky, and a lot weird.  The windmill squeaked—it always squeaked.  The frogs croaked—they always croaked.  Small pebbles were being tossed to her bedroom window—that was new.
	Before the damn fool broke the window and brought her aunt/uncle into the room she knew it better to “answer the window.”  She knew who it was.
	“What are you doing?” she asked in a hard whisper.
	“Waking you up.” said Boyd trying to be funny.
	Brianna didn’t think it was funny, it was almost eleven o’clock (at night!)
	“Can you come down?” he asked.
	Brianna sighed, she wasn’t in the mood for his shenanigans.  Before she could come up with an excuse, though—
	“It’s important.” This time he wasn’t being funny and seemed serious.
	Brianna sighed again, closed the window, grabbed her robed and slipped out of the house minding the third, fifth, six, ninth stairs, and the front door—they had a propensity to squeak (loudly.)  She went out the backdoor from the kitchen and found her beau standing there.
	“Hi, he said.”
	“What’s going on?”
	“Did you hear what happened to Angus?”
	“What?”
	“His old man beat the shit out of him.”
	“WHAT!?”
	“Yeah, apparently everyone got sick after eating his famous chili.”
	Brianna licked her lips thoughtfully—remembering watching the boy foul his Dad’s chili pot.
	“His Dad thinks he dumped dog shit into the pot.” Boyd giggled.
	Brianna didn’t think it was too funny, though.
	“Soooo, how bad is he beaten?”
	“Pretty bad; bad enough to put him in the hospital—and his Dad in county jail.”
	“What’s that?”
	Boyd clutched a brown paper bag, “A little something to brighten his day.” Boyd giggled, opening the bag and Brianna got a whiff of a hamburger—more specifically a double cheese bacon burger with chili, jalapeños, onion rings.  Fries on the side and a large double chocolate shake.
	Brianna stared at Boyd.
	“Going to take it to him.”
	“It’ll be cold by then.”
	Boyd smiled, “Not THEN—NOW.”  Then,
	“Wanna come?”
	It took Brianna two-seconds to decide—five minutes to change clothes.

	 “Hey, Fat Boy!” hoarsely whispered Boyd.
	“Hey!” brightened up Angus.  His face was pummeled, swollen, with one eye completely shut.  He lay in a hospital bed, hooked up to an IV, and some other stuff.  His nose began to twitch,
	“What’s in the bag?”
	Boyd smiled and presented his pal with the brown paper bag containing the goods.
	“HOLY SHIT!” Angus exclaimed loudly—almost too loudly.
	Brianna hustled to the door, opened it a crack—the nurse’s station was a little ways down the hall.  No one was coming.  Angus was stuffing the contents of the bag into his mouth as fast as he could.
	It didn’t take Angus ten minutes to polish off the goods.  He was very elated—and farted to say so!  The boys chatted lightly, too lightly for Brianna to hear them.  She tried to listen but they talked too low—
	Then,
	“SOMEONE’S COMING!” she yelled in a whisper.
	“Gotta go,” Boyd said quickly, “fight club!” then he and Brianna went out the window they had come in—luckily Angus was on the first floor of the two floor small town hospital.

	“Soooo, how is he?”
	“His Pop beat him pretty bad.”	
	“Asshole.”
	Boyd hoped she was talking about Angus’ Dad and not him.

	“So what happens now?”
	“I dunno,” Boyd said back, “I guess he just rests up for awhile.”
	Brianna, with her arms folded, walked slowly mulling over thoughts of this and that.  From the hospital they moved along the back area to the alley then behind the businesses of Front St.  A ten minute walk back to her house.
	“I hope he gets alright.” she said not really knowing what to say.
	“Yeah, he will.  He’s tough.”
	“What’s going to happen to him—after?”
	“After what?”
	Brianna sighed and slumped, BOYS!
	“AFTER, he gets out of the hospital.”
	“Oh.” Boyd didn’t know the answer to that one.
	“He doesn’t have any family in town, does he?” Brianna asked.
	“Naw, got an uncle or something over in Carver County, and someone else family related up in Jasper City.”
	“How far away?”
	Carver is about an hour down Route Six, by car.  Jasper City is two hours.”
	“Damn.”
	At Brianna’s house they came to the back porch.  All the lights were off, all was quiet and still—save for the noisy nighttime critters (and the windmill.)
	“That was nice of you what you did.” Brianna said.
	“What?”
	“The food!”
	“Oh, that—well, he’s my pal.” Boyd said with a beaming smile.
	“So why do you call him Fat Boy, and other stuff; Blubber Butt, Whale Boy--”
	“’cause I’m the only one who can get away with it.”
	“Still isn’t nice, he might LET you get away with it but it still could hurt him—inside.”
	Boyd said nothing to that—girl sure knew how to kill a mood.
	After a couple more quiet killed mood moments,
	“I-I guess I better get back inside.” she lingered a moment, Boyd lingered, held her arms and slowly drew her into him.  They kissed, they embraced, and passion heated—so hot that they had to unclothe themselves!  Then, right there on the grass aside from the cement at the bottom of the porch steps, they made love—Brianna on top!

*

friends in friendly places
	It was hot—almost too hot to be out walking in for sure; but the girls, Brianna and Autumn, were out walking along the wooden fence bounding in Meadows Farms.
	Autumn hadn’t heard what had happened to Angus and was shocked to found out.  The girl said nothing there after.  Brianna didn’t know what to say—it was just “one of those things” one had to deal with.  The girls went for a walk thereafter, making for a birthday party at Meadows’ Farm.
	Along the way,
	“There she is!”
	Past the tall corn field and just before the stinky hog pen was waiting for them Magic the Wonder Horse.
	“Oh, she’s beautiful!” cried out Autumn.
	Magic bobbed her head “Yes” as if she understood human speak.  The girls bounded up to the wonderful pony pulling out of their knapsacks “treats.”  	
	“I love horses!” exclaimed the excitable Autumn.  Brianna had never seen anyone brighten up so about a horse.  The “treats” were apples, carrots, sugar cubes, and oranges.  It was a ritual Brianna had found delighted the Wonder horse and she saw no reason to break it.
	The girls petted Magic and after all the treats were gone scampered off to the Meadows’ home passing the stinky-stanky pigsty.  One great hog was within the sty, he was HUGE.  His pen was fairly large, mud was everywhere—so was hog poo.  His name was Roman.
	“They didn’t bring ME anything!” complained the huge porker.
	“Probably because they fear you—,” said Magic casually making her way back to the barn, “fear that you will EAT them!”	
	“Nonsense!” porked the porker, “they are far too puny to make a meal!”
	Magic, contented with her treats, ambled on to the coolness of the barn; Roman sulked, grumbled, then wallowed in the mud.  The girls with their skins well tanned by the Summer’s sun scooted on to the house and the birthday party within.   

*

community affairs
	“Gooooood morning!  I’m Thom,”
	“And I’m somebody else, usually called Bobby.”
	“And it’s Seven AM,”
	“Do you know what time it is?”
	“Of course they do, Bobby, I just told them.”
	Intro country-farm music for fifteen minutes
	“Hey, welcome back, we’ve got some community announcements to make you day,”
	“And don’t forget, Harlon Beavis has his tractor up for sale; no seat and a loose steering wheel,”
	“Yeah, it’s a great investment for someone with no ass and don’t know where to turn!”
	“Bobby, you cant say “ass” on the radio.”
	“I cant?”
	“NO!”
	“Ok, I wont say “ass” on the radio no more.”
	Intro for more country music
	“And back to our announcements,”
	“Yeah, like this one ‘ere, from one of our local churches, “Don’t let worry kill you,”
	“Let the church help!”
	cue chuckling hillybilly hicks
	“This Thursday night at our other local church is potluck supper night,”
	“Prayer and medication to follow!”
	“Bobby!”
	tee-hee
	“Now, we remember in prayer the many who are sick of our church and community.”
	“I have to think about that one.”
	“We have a bulletin from one of our churches, For those of you who have children and don’t know it, we have a nursery downstairs.”
	“I’m gonna have to look into that!”
	“Now, Bobby!”
	more tee-hee
	more country music

back to our unscheduled irregular programming
	Not far from the Meadows’ Farm—
	Eleven year old Donald James (DJ) was a steadfast observer; he “observed” when his Dad slipped extra lumber onto his truck than he was supposed to from the lumber mill—and to keep that observance to himself once he confronted his Dad about it, DJ got a little extra in his allowance and other allowances, too.
	DJ also observed his Mom swiping some things from the church bizarre; he observed his Dad spanking his sisters (a particular enjoyment); and he observed his sisters—a lot.  Mostly he checked on them secretly whist they were in the bathroom; showering mostly.  But he noted they did other stuff, too; like shave themselves between their legs.  In their room privately they smoked pot AND made out.
	They did!
	The making out part was in the beginning nothing more than Becky teaching younger sister, Darlene, how to kiss (and be kissed) by a boy.  Becky was fifteen, Darlene ripe at thirteen (DJ horny at eleven.)  For a long while, Darlene had despised boys—but as her teen years filled her she found boys not so yucky.  They were still immature horndogs but that was the whole gist of being a “boy.”
	So the curiosity thing beset the young girl and after attending a party with her sister the subject of “kissing” came about.
	“I saw you in the corner with that boy,”
	“Calvin Weaver.”
	“Yeah, he looked cool, but it looked like you two were trying to suck each other’s face off!”
	The girls in their upstairs room were changing out of their party clothes, prancing about nonchalantly-like in their skin (unawares of their younger sibling taking it all in hiding under Darlene’s bed—which gave him the optimum viewing of the girls’ room and them prancing about in their skin.)
	“That’s just kissing,” Becky commented, “it’s called “Frenching.””
	“Frenching?” exclaimed Darlene.
	“Yep, French Kissing.”
	Darlene went “wow” and Darlene kicked her panties to her sneaky under the bed brother.  He grabbed them kick, sniffed the crotch and nearly had an orgasm right then and there.  When DJ was about five he began taking notice of his sisters—always spying on them, walking in on them in their room and especially the shared bathroom.

	He usually got in trouble for his spying so as he got older he got more sneaky about it.  The spankings from his Dad were usually up against his bed, pants (and undies) down and a belting until his ass was tomato red.  The sting of the spank lasted a long while and he didn’t care for it—so being sneaky was the thing.
	Becky sat on the end of her bed mimicking how a subtle kiss should be, cocking her head, mouth open—explaining to her awed sister the fine art of Frenching.  To DJs surprise and awe, naked Darlene stepped up—stepped right up to naked Becky.  Becky parted her legs, her hands went to Darlene’s arms caressing her; Darlene bent down and the two siblings began kissing—Frenching.
	Becky slipped her hands to Darlene’s ass and spurts of love juice began squirting from DJs cock.  He used Darlene’s panties to help aid his cause and clean up the mess.
	Becky laid back onto her bed, pulling Darlene with her.  This allowed DJ the chance to pull himself out from under Darlene’s bed a little and see the most fantastic viewing ever!  Darlene’s nakedness right on Becky’s nakedness.  It was the most fantastic thing ever!  Ever!  What a view!  Becky’s hands roamed freely all over Darlene’s ass, spanking and squeezing the cheeks—he could even see their pussies!
	The girls pounded their little pussies to one another, scrunched their naked little bodies together and drove their sneaky little brother insane!  They finally parted leaving the bed and making for the bathroom.  Moments later and they were showering (together!)  This gave the sneaky little brother time to get out from under Darlene’s bed, snag the panties, and sneak to his bedroom whereupon flinging himself onto his bed he happily jerked off and then some with the images of his sisters being naughty firmly intact in his memory.

	A couple of days later and…
	A familiar smell did DJ catch lingering on the warm air.  He knew what it was—it was very familiar at school, behind barns, the malt shoppe parking lot, behind the school, and so on.  It was, however, the first time he had smelled it in his own home.  
	DJ was supposed to be elsewhere but at the last minute a change in plans so he came home early.  His intent was to snoop the laundry hamper for his sisters’ panties and make hey with them.  He also planned on humping their beds!

	Going thru the shared bathroom, though, and he caught the all too recognizable scent of marijuana.  He wasn’t shocked and assumed that both his siblings smoked one once in awhile—he himself took a hit now and then from a friend and it was no big deal.
	But a smile came to DJs face; smoking pot at school, the malt shoppe, everywhere else was one thing—gettin’ high at home was something else.  Mom and especially Dad would come fucking unglued—and wail upon their asses something fierce.  And although DJ would dearly love to see his sisters pressed against their beds, clothes at their ankles being wailed upon—DJ had another idea.
	The “idea” came to light one afternoon when the all-knowing DJ found Darlene in the bathroom.  
	“Thought you were at your game?” Darlene said collecting clothes from the hamper.
	“Naw, had a better idea.” he said smiling-smirkingly.
	Darlene knew that look—little turd was up to something.
	“What?” she asked.
	“Well, it’s just that I know what you and Becky are doing.”
	Darlene cocked her head saying, “No you don’t.”
	But sneaky brother DJ nodded smiling, “Yes, I do.”
	Even if what he said he knew wasn’t true, all he had to do was mention something to their folks and the girls would be in trouble anyhow.  It was the way in the household and how the siblings got the other in trouble to take pending trouble off of them; suspicion alone warranted scoldings.  With even a slight hint of truth getting one a bare ass beating.
	“What do you want?” Darlene said.  Usually the going price to keep one’s mouth shut was allowance, chores, a favor of one kind or another, something like that.
	Not in this case.
	“I know what you are doing in your room,” he said smiling, still smirking, “but I want to see you here.” he wasn’t too clear.
	Darlene licked her lips thoughtfully, furrowing her brow, cocking her head, eyeing her brother—reading to pummel him into nothingness.
	“What do you mean?  What is it?  What do you want?”
	DJ only smiled; Darlene knew and shook her head, “No fucking way, you little perv!”
	“Fine,” DJ said shrugging, “all I have to do is say something to Dad and he’ll tear your room apart,”
	“You little shit!” Darlene bitched dropping the clothes and charging her little (sneaky) brother.
	“—and when he finds your stash, you wont be able to stand!”
	He was right.  The girls had plenty of places to stash their hash, but a pissed off daddy could easily wreck a room in search of.  Darlene thought and thought and thought and though lo she wanted nothing better that to pummel her little (sneaky) shit of a brother, she relented.
	“I want to see,” DJ said after Darlene got up off of him, “like you are with Becky!”
	Darlene was ready to throttle him.
	DJ lay on the pile of clothes, his cock ready to bust right thru his jeans.  Darlene stood, fists doubled, wondering casually if she could endure a bare ass busting from her Dad—
	“You and Becky are good!” DJ said interrupting her thoughts.
	The color fell out of Darlene’s face—her thoughts went crazed and she couldn’t even ask “How?  Where were you, under the bed?”
	There was a long pause; Darlene just too stunned to proceed, DJ lost in thought.  Then Darlene sighed deeply, “Alright, you little perv, you want to see me naked, is that it?”
	Yeah, kinda.
	DJ merely smiled, gouged the heel of his hand to his burgeoning erection.  Darlene flared her nostrils, ‘you’ll pay for this, you little shit, I’ll get you back and it’s gonna hurt!’ then off came her baseball shirt.

	Standing in front of her blackmailing little shit of a brother, Darlene stood stark naked presenting herself.  DJ looked like the proverbial deer in the headlights as he stared up close and personal.
	“Whoa.” he finally breathed.
	Darlene had lost some of her anger, she was still miffed and yearned for the day the boy would “get his.”  The thought of DJ in peril made her cunt tingle.  And there was a certain amount of naughtiness in the deed they were sharing.  She didn’t know why, exactly, but as far as she was concerned she had never thought of her brother in a sexual manner—he was a dweeb, a dork, a geek and though she loved him it was purely biological in the respect of being connect via the bonds of biology.  
	How Becky actually felt about him wasn’t truly known, but she felt the same way—although she did seem to care for him a little more than the bruff Darlene.
	Anyways, Darlene stood for a moment letting her brother gawk at her, then she laid out on the floor, opening her legs letting him have a “real good look” while she fingered herself.
	It drove the young boy mad.
	“Take your pants off, stupid.”
	So he did.
	Darlene seriously began fingering herself, opened her legs wider and began to “buck”.  DJ was cumming.  Looking down to himself he stood in awe as cum began to soil his tidy-whiteys.
	“Take ‘em off.” Darlene cooed.  Her voice was more calm and she had taken on a new demeanor.
	DJ shoved down his underwear and when he stood there was his little pre-teen pecker coated in sperm.
	“Son-of-a-bitch!” DJ bitched.
	“Damn.” mouthed Darlene sitting up (but still fingering herself.)
	“It does that,” DJ said somewhat angrily, “I don’t even have to touch it and it does that.”
	Darlene inched closer, “Could be a problem.” 
	Lightly and did DJ grip his dick, squeeze it and get a little more juice to flow.  Darlene leaned in and while one hand continued to frig her box she lunched on her brother’s tube steak.
	She did!

	Then what happened?
	The drip-drip-drip of the faucet, the gentle hum of the swamp cooler, and rivers of sweat made for lovemaking on a bathroom floor all the more incredible—not mention that it was intensified by the fact that he was screwing his sister!
	Natural instinct put the young horndog into the common Missionary Position, arms locked, body rigid and straight poised above the one he was putting it to.  But Darlene set him straight and had him lay his naked body on her, his chest squashing her excited nipples, his legs out straight with his cock in her cunt, his hips right on hers allowing only the movement of his pelvis.  DJ didn’t mind and found the event very entertaining and quiet relieving.
	Darlene caressed her brother; squeezed his butt and pumped back into him experiencing her own orgasms as did her brother.  They melded as one, rolled onto their sides and humped a good hump with DJ having a hellacious orgasm and Darlene—more than once.
	They showered (together) and were drying off when they heard the front door.
	Don’t ya just hate interruptions!?

	“Hi there!  I’m Thom,”
	“And I’m BOBBBBBB-EEEEEeeeeeee!”
	“Sorry, folks, Bobby fell off his stool.”
	“Well, anyways, Farmer Hank is selling his family’s tractor,”
	“Although, we’re not sure if he’s selling the tractor—or his family.”
	“We’ll get back to you on that one.”
	“This afternoon—there’s a meetin’ at the First Church in the south and north ends of the church.  Children will be baptized at both ends.”
	“I want to see that!”
	“Now, Bobby!”
	tee-hee
	“On this comin’ Wednesday the Ladies Society will be gathering.”
	“Ms. Verda Vane will sing “Put me in my little bed” accompanied by the pastor!”
	“That’s what it says, folks, I don’t make this stuff up!”
	“He aint that talented, Thom came forth in a third place event!”
	“Now, Bobby!”

	He knew in his heart that if the two ever got together to “chat” and share like sisters sometimes do—he was a dead man.  Be that as it may, it was a risk his cock was willing to take.  
	“Hi, there!” he said brightly.
	Sister Becky gave him at first a friendly “Hello” and then stared him down conveying harshly “Get out!” he was forbidden to be in his sisters’ room (for any reason.)
	“Something you should know.” he said smiling in his boyish-smirkish manner.
	“What?”
	“I know.”
	Becky hated when her dweeb brother said shit like that.  
	“Look, I got stuff to do,” homework during non-school hours, prepping her clothes for a date, hiding “stash”, that sort, “I’ve got no time for games.”
	“Yeah, you do.”
	Becky stopped, the little dweeb perv was up to something.
	“What?  What do you know?” she demanded.
	DJ stood with his cock near busting thru his pants smiling, 
	“I know what you and Darlene do in here.”
	Becky lost all color in her face.

	Darlene was into sports, sort of a tomboy type girl—she hated dresses AND dressing up.  When after church the girl was usually mostly out of her dress as soon as she hit the stairs to her room.  She swore wearing dresses gave her hives.  She fared so-so at school, if it weren’t for sports she wouldn’t have an inclination to go in the first place.
	Becky, however, loved school and loved dressing up.
	Although she was a teenager, she was still not too old to be spanked, even bare assed as her stern/strict Daddy was seemingly always poised to do so if any of his kids got out of line (and they often did so) so when faced with blackmail from sneaky shit of a brother DJ, getting naked for him was not a bad idea.
	Becky was blond—she did not qualify as an “air head” or subject herself to the epitome of being a “dumb blond”—she still often times didn’t act smart and parlayed herself into situations best left alone.  She all too quickly was willing to submit without thinking things thru.  Case in point; after confrontation with DJs blackmail spiel and his desire to see her naked, Becky stripped off her clothes--underwear and all!
	DJ was impressed (and very hard!)

	There was a difference in screwing Becky over Darlene; Becky was more helpful—she also “talked.”  Darlene had been quiet—only moaning now and then and making odd facial expressions.  Becky caressed her brother but helped him in the fine art of “putting it in”, keeping it in, and humping while it was in.
	DJ enjoyed the screwing of both sisters, of course, but Becky was better—more pleasant to “put it to” (and in.)  She didn’t suck him—but that was ok.  They didn’t shower together, either.  That was ok, too.  It was enough to have had sex with her.
	Days later and…
	DJ found his pleasure zone severely damaged as his strict/stern Dad came after him like a storm on a Midwestern town.  The reason?  A marijuana ciggy was found in his pants pocket—a pair of girl’s panties found there, too.  The Mom was doing the weekend laundry and freaked the fuck out.  The Dad was informed and young DJ was in peril.
	In his room, against his bed, pants and underwear at his knees, the boy cried out in sincere anguish as a reign of swats reddened his ass.  His Dad’s two-inch wide leather belt kissed his ass with great enthusiasm.
	His sisters could hear the wailing from their room adjoining and although they clenched with each belt heard smacking his tender ass, they felt that he deserved it for blackmailing them.  Payback’s a bitch!

	“I’m Thom!”
	“And I’m the other guy!”
	ringing of a cow bell excessively
	“BOBBY!”
	“Oh!  Sorry, I was just-a thinkin’ of this comin’ Thursday at our local church there’ll be a meeting of the Little Mother’s Club.”
	“That’s right, Bobby, all you folks wishing to be little mothers, please see the minister in his private office!”
	“And this coming Easter Sunday, the pastor has asked Ms. Gretta Bowman to come forward from the congregation—and lay an egg on the altar!”
	“I’d like to see that!”
	tee-hee/cow bell
	“The Ladies Auxiliary have cast off clothing of every kind,”
	“And they may be seen in the church basement on Friday!”
	“Bobby!”

*

ah, the pause that refreshes
or, into the night from the following day
or, the new adventure begins
	“Soooo, whattya going to do now?”
	“Not sure, really, just—just go somewhere I guess.”
	The night was hot, but that was normal.  Bugs, insects, croaking frogs, a windmill here—a creaky windmill there, all made the ambience of the humid night.  
	“You’re not leaving somewhere without telling the others, are you?”
	“Heck, no, I-I just thought I’d see you first!” he offered a meager smile; in the dim light of the humid night, Autumn could still see that his face was swollen.
	“I wish I could go with you—wherever you’re going.”
	“Thanks, I don’t know, either.” he sighed and sat still in the backyard of Autumn’s house.  
	“Maybe you could hide out,” Autumn said, “like at Boyd’s or Brianna’s.”
	Angus shook his head, “Best to be on my own, out of the way.”
	“Don’t say that!” Autumn said sharply, she was to say more but couldn’t get the words out—so she held his hand.  There was just enough night light to see that the boy was smiling—big!

	“I might hang around—for awhile, here and there, whaterver.”
	“I hope you do.” Autumn said smiling back and full of concern.
	“I kinda like you.” she added.
	“Yeah, I bet I’m better looking now!”
	“It’s not the outside stuff.” Autumn corrected.
	“But the inside that counts, I know,” he said offhandedly, “I’ve heard that stuff before.”
	“You’ve got charm,” Autumn said factly, “when you’re not farting, belching and that other stuff you do.”
	“But I thought that WAS my charm!”
	The two giggled and Autumn feared her Aunt/Uncle would hear them, so they moved a little further away, like behind the garden shed.  Angus copped a squat on an upturned pail, Autumn lingered before him.
	“Soooo, you wanna see me pee?”
	dead silence—then a distinctive gulp.
	“Ok.”
	Autumn, clad in simple knee length nightgown and robe, discarded the robe (folding it neatly and placing it on a covered rain barrel) hiked up her nightgown.
	“I cant see anything.” Angus said leaning forward a little.
	It was too dark to see properly.  Autumn wrinkled her nose,
	“Ok, let’s go inside.” Inside the garden shed that housed some garden plants her Aunt fussed over.  By the work table there was a lamp; the windows were all closed with canvas covers covering them.  The top of the “A” framed garden shed was windowed and they were opened to the night sky.  A sprinkler system and a cooling system were all controlled electronically to keep the plants “just right.”
	With the table lamp on, Autumn once more hiked up her nightgown revealing herself to her hefty suitor.  Angus sat on an old wooden stool staring with wide eyed lust—he had seen the girl many times completely naked but this was somehow different.
	Slowly the girl slipped off her nightgown and stood merely IN her panties.
	“Whoa.” breathed Angus, “Nice.”
	Autumn blushed, sucked in her breath then slid her powder blue panties down revealing her nudity.  Angus pursed his lips; his face was swollen but most of that had gone down considerably; he had small eyes, blue; his blond hair was “dirty blond” and mostly unkempt—he liked it that way.  Though he was a chunky fella, a little crass, kinda crude and sometimes rude—Autumn liked him.

	She drew a finger up her virgin pussy, caressed her own butt then stood with her legs spread and wondered casually what her Aunt would think when she found a “puddle” on the floor?  Too late to reconsider options, she was peeing.

*

	“A bean supper will be held at the local church on Wednesday after the evening service.”
	“Music will follow!”
	“Bobby!”
	“Over at the our other local church, the evening service on Wednesday night, the sermon topic will be “What is Hell?” Come early and listen to the choir practice!”
	“Oh, Bobby!”
	“And it looks like the Pastor and the First Church of deSinners is on vacation this week, so all massages can be given to the church secretary!”
	“Bobby, did you say massages?”
	“That’s what the script says!”
	“Whew!  Hey, and looky at the time, why, we’ve got Wally Whacker and the Testimony Call-in Show coming right up after these almost important messages.”
	Cue commercial
	“Friends,…”
*

	“Oh my God!”
	“See, I told you!”
	In the private study of Noah Noddy sat the old man with his eleven year old granddaughter at the side of his desk.  Noah Noddy was an old merchant seaman, his study was all in the motif of all things “naugtical”; rigging rope, nets, life vest, life rings, spears, and portholes.  Out in his backyard he had a small scale fishing troller that served as a playhouse for his grandchildren rather than a regular playhouse or treefort.
	Thru the grimy window the two spies, Boyd and Brianna of course, could only “see” what was going but not hear.  Whatever the young Katy had done musta been something.  She lived with her Grandpa, along with her young brother and sister.  There were two black families living in the township, one had a young son Katy, Boyd, Brianna, Autumn, and Angus’ age—he was a near constant resident at the Noddy home, too.

	Katy closed the big heavy oak door behind her and stood shifting her weight from one foot to the other, twisting on one foot and then the other, one hand behind her, the other at her mouth chewing on both a curled knuckle and lips.  She was in some kind of trouble.
	Noah Noddy seemed to be a likeable sort, grizzled a little bit, an old brawny seaman, but he seemed friendly.  He wore faded/well-worn overalls, Katy wore similar overalls, kid size, pants to the knees, not quite faded but well worn.
	The old man signaled for her to come hither.  Semi reluctantly she did.  She was a pretty girl, seriously thick jet black hair, dazzling blue eyes, soft creamy skin.  Boyd knew her, Brianna and Autumn, also.  She was nice, outgoing, friendly, and Boyd had heard her fart once.
	At her Grandpa’s side she stood somewhat nervously; one hand behind her, the other in front nervously going up and down her young basically flat body.
	Then she was undoing the brass clasps that held the overalls up; the garment fell down revealing the girl clad in a pinkish top with small roses all over and basic white panties.
	Noah reached out for her, pulled her close to him and then across his lap.  A broad smile etched across the old man’s face—a like smile was on Boyd’s.  Brianna stood snoopingly staring wide eyed watching—
	Watching as Noah firstly caressed his granddaughter’s ass, then swatted it.  Not too hard but the fanny jostled just the same.  More caressing, more swatting—then, 
	The pinkish top was moved up and Noah caressed her backside with the other hand, slipped the swatting hand down inside her panties squeezing bare ass flesh.  Slowly the panties were pushed down; Noah made small circles about the girl’s ass.  Outside, spying inward, and young Boyd Horndog Aryndon was with his cock out of his pants jerking off, licking his lips, eyes glued to Katy’s ass.
	The swatting resumed—a little harder and then a little harder to the point of where Brianna grew concerned and Katy’s ass turned bright red.  Then, right when it seemed like the girl could take no more—nor Brianna, Noah stopped the abuse and stood her up.
	Katy rubbed and rubbed bright red ass and she was turned around!  Turned around to face her snooping onlookers!  Boyd was well pleased, seeing another girl naked was his thing.  Katy had a bald poon and her flaming red ass was perched onto her Grandpa’s lap, legs open—and the old sea fart was fingering her out!

	Boyd stared and stared—Brianna sighed dejectedly; both at the circumstances surrounding the event—her horny ever so horny boyfriend and the happenstance misfortune of Katy.  Her Grandpa fingered-fingered and fingered her hairless poon; her legs were spread out wide and after a time she was repositioned to a standing position between his legs.  The old seaman undone his own brass clasps and after flinging the straps over his shoulder pushed down his overalls and underwear.  He stood and there was his “mast”, extremely hard and very determined.  He squeezed it, flopped it before his young granddaughter then smacked it to her chest.
	Katy had a serious face, she always did.  Brianna could count on one hand the number of times she had seen the girl actually smile and less time the girl had laughed.
	After a bit of chest smacking—Katy herself took the old fart’s cock and masturbated it before kissing the head.  She sucked on the glistening orb and seemed to have some sort of talent in doing so.  She rolled her tongue about the super sensitive crown then went down the shaft before engulfing the member whole.
	Then she was hoisted up onto the desk, legs open wide.  Noah admired her young snatch for a moment then eased back into his high back wooden chair “going down” on the girl eating her out for several minutes.
	Katy flailed her legs about as she lay out on the desk; she bucked, twisted, and tweaked her own nipples—the girl barely had any breast to speak off but there was something there to feel.  Noah’s expert tongue drove the young girl wild and she shuddered experiencing something of an orgasm.
	She was primed.
	Noah stood and slapped his manly manhood to her hot cunt and humped the gash; his cock languished, pressing the bulbous head into the trench but only teasingly.  Sperm, though, was jettisoning out of his piss slit; so after gouging the granddaughter’s trench a little more he began insertion.
	Boyd was cumming off himself and had began rubbing Brianna’s ass.	
	“Quit it!” chastised Brianna, “We’re gonna get caught!”
	Boyd, however, would not be put off and moved behind his girl undoing her pants.  Brianna sighed and at first tried to stop him but he was determined and found herself also strangely excited.  She didn’t want to submit to the thought of having sexual feelings at the expense of someone getting spanked and then obviously raped—but…
	Boyd worked Brianna’s pants and panties down then quickly put himself up against her butt; Brianna herself parted a cheek and while her everlasting horndog beau slid himself up into her cornhole, she frigged herself while continuing to watch the goings on inside.

	“At the Holier Than Thou Church of the Woods, eight new choir robes are currently needed,”
 	“Due to the addition of several new members and to the deterioration of some older ones!”
	“Moving right along, the Senior Choir of His Heavenly Destiny, invites any member of the congregation who enjoys sinning to join the choir.”
	“Scouts are saving aluminum cans, bottles, and other items to be recycled.  Proceeds will be used to cripple children.”
	“The Men’s group will meet this week at the Church of Perpetual Blessing at 6 PM.  Steak, mashed potatoes, green beans, bread and dessert will be served for a nominal feel.”
 	“The Associate Minister unveiled the church’s new tithing campaign slogan last Sunday:  “I Upped My Pledge - Up Yours!”
	“And now friends and neighbors in the Tri-County area it’s time for that call-in show, the Testimonial with your host, Wally Whacker!”

fade in chorus: “When the Saints Go Marching In.”
Wally:  (enthusiastic)  Hello, and welcome to the Testimony Show, heard ever week here on What The Hey-Hey Radio. I’m your host, Wally Whacker.  The Testimony Show is sponsored by the Willy Wang Wishy Washy Windshield Wiper Company.  They’re fairly certain they’ll work well in most weather conditions.  Call now for your testimony to be heard by all who can hear in the Tri-County area to the What the Hey-Hey Radio station.
Chorus:  Oh, when the saints--start calling in--what they will say you never know.  Oh, I want to call that number--to the Testimony Show!
Wally:  Testimony Show, you’re on the air!
1st caller: Yeah!
Wally:  Hello there!
1st Caller:  Howdy!
Wally:  How you doing?
1st Caller:  Great!  You doing alright?
Wally:  Just fine!
1st Caller:  Good! Well... that’s it! (click)
Wally:  Well, looks like he didn’t quite understand the concept of a call-in talk show.  Next caller:  Hello!  It’s the TEST-amony Show!
2nd caller:  Hello, I’d like to order a large double cheese, pepperoni pizza with a pineapple and raisins... 

Wally:  (trying to interrupt him, aggravated)  Sir... sir!  Hello, this is the Wally Whacker Hey-Hey Going to Heaven Radio CALL-IN TESTIMONY Show—not the Wally’s Pizzeria in downtown Perioa!
2nd caller:  Oh, yeah, I’ve heard of this show before.  This is Hey-Hey?
Wally:  (relieved) Yes, sir.
2nd caller:  Dude, that’s righteous!  Can I make a request?
Wally:  Dude, we’re not playing music right now, but—
2nd caller:  Okay... so like can you play “get a real job and stop sittin’ in an air conditioned office while the rest of us hump ditches; you get to sit and spin while the rest of us support you!  The Bible says we’re supposed to work by the sweat of our brow—
Wally:  (cutting him off)  Thank you sir, but we’re looking for testimonies, not opinions!
Chorus:  Oh, when the saints--start calling in--to tell the world about their woe... Oh, I want to call that number, to the Testimony Show!
3rd caller: (an old lady)  Hello, I thought I would just call in and thank the Lord...
Wally:  Please, go ahead!
3rd caller:  I'm just so thankful that I'm still alive cause I’m so sick doncha know.  I’ve the shakes and shivers; my rear end leaks; my left breast is bigger and saggier than the other two.  I got—
Wally: (exasperated) Ok, Sister, that’s a bit more information than I needed to know but we’ll definitely put you on the Prayer List.
Wally:  Let’s keep the rally going.  Testimony Show, you’re on the air!
4th caller: (hyper typical redneck farmer)  Boy, I tell you what, the Devil’s been on my back today, I tell you what!   I tell you, the Devil has come after me with everything, I tell you what!  Doggone it if’in those fiery darts in that there tail of his’n come a blastin’ my way, I tell you what!
Wally:  (sobbing)  Next caller, go ahead please!
5th caller: (monotone) My brother jumped off a bridge into a low-flying plane.  My mother got run over by a freight train. My Daddy was electrocuted while trying to blow-dry his hair under water—he didn’t read the instruction saying not to do that.  My sister drank some shellac (but she has a nice finish.)  My cat got flushed down the sewer; my dog went splat on the highway.  And I’ve got hives!

Cue music/chorus
Wally:  (on chorus starts, breaks out crying and sobbing loudly throughout.) Waaaauuuuugh! 
(As the chorus plays, Wally puts his head down on the table and sobs with his body heaving.  He wipes his eyes, and begins to bang head onto the console.)
(Regular announcers Thom and Bobby are howling and rolling on the floor.)
Chorus:  Oh, When the saints--start calling in--to tell the world about their woe... Oh, I want to call that number, to the Testimony Show!
Wally:  (not enthusiastic)  Testimony Show, you’re on the air...

	Boyd grunted and groaned as his cock slammed hotly into his girl’s asshole; in the private study and young Katy was laying down on the desk, her Grandpa behind her possibly fucking her asshole.  When he pulled out he slapped her ass with his still fully engorged cock.
	“Wow!” Boyd breathed.
	Brianna pinched in her lower lip and stared in utter awe.
	Noah caressed Katy’s ass, then began a new round of spanking turning the girl’s ass a bright red (again.)  Then he reinserted himself and went for several minutes before finally cumming off.  Boyd already did and breathed hotly against the nape of Brianna—until she slapped at him to make him quit.
	Noah stepped back, flogged his dog, and Katy scrambled off the desk, collected her clothes—didn’t look any worse for wear, and left the study.  Boyd crept along the side of the house finding the bathroom.  Standing precariously on a milk stool he peered into the small bathroom window.  Katy was inside showering.  He couldn’t see much—grimy window and steam and the angle of the dangle not quite right.
	Brianna collected herself (wiped) then collected her horny boyfriend and fled the scene.  Not far away and Autumn Jizum stood naked in her Aunt’s garden shed—peeing in front of puffy faced Angus Talburt.  He loved it; he was elated and stared at her young basically hairless poon the whole time she peed smiling and “rubbing himself.”
	“Do YOU have to pee?” the naked bashful girl asked curiously.
	“No.” he said, ‘I gotta do something else!’
	Angus stood and unzipped, then pushed down his pants (no undies) and stood with an amazing erection.  Autumn stared at it as much as he had stared at her.
	“I cant pee,” Angus said smiling and turning just a little red, “not with this thing like this.”

	“How come?” Autumn asked not knowing.
	“I dunno,” Angus replied also not knowing, “but when it hard like this you cant pee until,”
	“Until what?”
	“You know, it goes off.”
	Autumn stepped a little closer getting a “better look”; she smiled and her beautiful eyes seemingly admired the twelve year old’s erect schlong.  Angus squeezed his dick, pulled the skin back and then began to lightly masturbate.  He was already sweating but the thing of being naked with Autumn—and she herself naked, caused the boy to sweat even more.
	Their eyes met.  The heart beating code that usually conveyed ‘I love you’ ‘you’re nice’ ‘I like you’ ‘let’s hug’ was replaced by the horny code overwhelming the more subtleness of their being secretly together.
	‘LET’S FUCK!’
	Autumn held Angus’ hands and they drew together melding their bodies as one.  No kissing, but they embraced and Angus’ schlong went right up against Autumn’s belly.  Angus could scarcely breathe, his arms about the girl and the pending moment he knew would be “just around the corner” filled him with mixed emotions he didn’t know of or understand.
	Autumn leaned her back back some and smiled at the poking porker peeking at her between their bodies.  Then she touched it.  Her fingers went about the proud prong and she stroked it lovingly before earnestly gripping the boyish member and masturbating it.
	“That feels good!” quipped Angus.
	This went on for a very few short minutes—cum was spurting up from the piss slit and Angus seemed to be in some sort of mortal anguish.
	‘FUCK ME!  FUCK ME, NOW!’
	But Autumn, fully in control, slid down to her knees.
	“Boys LOVE to have their weenie sucked.” Brianna had told her.
	“Why?”
	“I dunno, just because, I guess.”
	I guess.
	Autumn assessed the throbbing cock that was apparently turning purple.  The smegma coating the head of the purple prong (pre-cum) was not something Autumn really wished to taste.
	“What’s it taste like?” Autumn had asked of Brianna (this after noting the girl willingly lick and lap up the jutting spew from Boyd’s schlong.)
	“Hmmm, that’s a hard on.” Brianna had said—then broke up laughing at some inside joke.
	Closing her eyes, Autumn pressed her lips to Angus’ cock and following the cue of her friend’s doing rolled her tongue all around the super sensitive cock crown.
	Angus couldn’t help it—his cock pulsed and cum shot out the piss slit coating Autumn’s mouth.  She didn’t like it much and made face along with spitting out the goo.
	“Ewewe,” she exclaimed, “tastes yucky!”
	Angus apologized; he squeezed his dick at the base and stood shuttering all over.  ‘suck it, anyway, bitch, just suck it!’
	Autumn didn’t suck it—it was too yucky.  She did, though, stroke it (which with the boy’s cum coating his cock and her hand) made that act just as yucky.  Let’s try something else.
	Of course, by this time, Autumn herself was just as horny.
	Angus once more took Autumn’s gaze—and she his.  The boy laid down pulling the naked girl on him.  There was a bit of clumsiness as the boy kicked off his pants.  Afterwards, Autumn Jizum was laying nakedly on HER naked beau.

	Autumn’s soaking wet pussy lay squashing her beau’s still hard—still cumming off hard cock.  She had seen Brianna and Boyd having sex—up close and personal-like, too!  The girl began to grind—as she had often times seen Brianna do when SHE was top.
	Angus enjoyed the ride and was totally captivated by the girl’s face; the act of the girl being naked and grinding on his cock was a mere afterthought, something in the background.  For the most part, it was her beautiful face that held his attention.  Her lovely hair was all wet and clung to her face.  It was the most captivating thing ever!
	A moment passed before Autumn snaked her hand between them, found his hard squirter and eased it into her sex.  It was a natural thing; her legs straddled the boy and his cock eased nicely into her quim.  Angus’ eyes brightened, enlarged, and with wide with awe as sinking his pud into a girl’s cunt was the most fantastic thing—ever!
	With some hesitation did Angus place his hands onto Autumn’s ass.  His cock he could feel swelling and shooting off—it was a mind blower!  Autumn settled down onto his invading pecker and began to pump; Angus’ hands were clamped tenaciously to her soft pillowy ass and he pumped, too.
	Autumn lay on her sweating-heaving lover; her young cunny clenching and squeezing his amazing prong inside her.  She felt like she was peeing, having one of those amazing morning pees where the relief was utterly relaxing.

	The two came to be as one; their bodies bonded as one, their mouths engulfing, they succumbed to utter relaxation and they fell to sleep arms and legs akimbo on the cement floor of the garden shed.
	It was the way they were almost found out by Autumn’s early riser Aunt.  The “stuck” front door of the garden shed was sometimes difficult, not too mention it was locked (but curiously, not the back door way in!)  The time getting into the shed gave the two naked lovers time to roll out of sight; however, Autumn was only able to grab her nightgown—Angus his pants.
	“What in the world!?” quipped Autumn’s Aunt Betty.
	The naked kids in the next row clutching one another were in sheer panic.  It was a little chilly laying on the cement floor; bugs roamed about the floor and the dangling mass of tomato plants.  Aunt Betty scooped up Autumn’s panties and Angus’ underwear—then did an immediate About-Face charging out of the shed making for the house.
	“I’m dead.” Autumn hoarsely whispered.
	Maybe not.
	Betty Hurmanie made her About-Face a little too sharply, lost her balance on the uneven/cracked cement floor, caught the wooden work table and the tomato rack and down she went.  The event both frightened the naked children and gave them the brief moment for escape.
	Quickly and did the kids scramble (out the unlocked backdoor) jumping into their clothes then scrambling across the early dawn to the backdoor.  Angus anxiously waited in the bushes along the house until Autumn poked her head out of her bedroom window above him.  Then he scrambled back to the garden shed to check on the clumsy Aunt—and snag their underwear.  He had to once more lay low while the old woman bitched and hobbled her way to the house.  Then he was out the shed and gone.
	Whew!

New friends/new adventure
	“YOU almost got me into trouble!”
	“Sorry.” he shrugged.
	“No more night stuff shenanigans.”
	Boyd shrugged ‘for now.’  He knew he had the girl in the palm of his hand.  He had the looks, the charm, the cock—all things his girl liked and loved.  He had barely gotten the girl home before her grandparents came alive—finding her in the kitchen “just getting in” but she claimed to be “just getting up”.  But she was already dressed…

	Brianna knew to mind herself for awhile; her Grandmother was not one to trifle with or try to fool—she’d already “been there—done that” and knew her granddaughter had been up to something.  Brianna’s Grandfather, well, he knew that his granddaughter was not “just getting up”.  You couldn’t fool him—he’d been there and “done that”, too!
	“So, what kind of trouble you gonna get me into today?”
	Boyd took her hand, “come on!” he said with a devilish smile.  And the two skeedaddled to more mischief.

*

	“Whoa, who’s that?”
	“Justin Sebee.”
	“Looks like he’s in trouble.”
	“Yep.”
	Justin Sebee was being hauled off to the house by the elbow by a very pissed off Burt Sebee.  Burt Sebee was tall, well groomed, somewhat well dressed, and first deacon of the First Church.  He had also just caught his twelve year old son jerking off in the tool shed.
	“He looks pissed.”
	“He’s sometimes friendly,” Boyd said as he and Brianna hid in the bushes by the well manicured lawn surrounding the Sebee home, “but he controls Justin big time.”
	“You mean he’s strict?”
	“Worse than that.”
	The two scurried about the bushes coming to the back of the green clapboard structure built in the late 40s.  Risking exposure they peered into a bedroom deemed to be Justin’s.  There punishment for “jerking off” was already commencing.  The boy was pressed up against his bed, pants and underwear at his knees and Burt Sebee was “laying hands” upon his bare bottom.
	“Whoa.” breathed Brianna.
	“Happens a lot.” Boyd supplied.  “The boy cant do anything.”
	“Poor kid.”
	“Yep.” then,  “Come on, let’s go find Fat Boy.”

	“I wish you wouldn’t call him that.”
	“What?”
	“Fat Boy.”
	Boyd sighed, “He knows I’m kidding.”

	“Does he?”
	Boyd was pretty sure.  Girls!  Always bringing something up.
	It wasn’t as hot as it usually was—but it was still hot.  Crossing the one lane paved road making for their path thru the meadows and firstly they had to make a stop at the Meadows’ Farm—and feed Magic the Wonder Horse some treats.
	Roman the great hog lumbered out of his covered sty, made some grunts and stuck his mud encrusted nose into the air.
	“Got something for you, too!” Boyd said.
	Brianna looked afeared, “don’t get close to him!” she warned.
	“Aw, me an’ Rome are buds.” Out of his no-sleeve sweat shirt pocket came a glob ball of peanuts, cheese, stinky cheese, more peanuts all drenched in carmel.  Rome began to grunt and get excited.  The pig’s pen was horrendous offending and Brianna kept her distance.  Boyd climbed up a bit on one of the questionable slats serving as a fence,
	“Hiya, boy!” Boyd said gleefully.  Stretching out the offering Roman’s tail twitched and he quickly devoured the tasty treat.
	“Damn, looky at those teeth!” Boyd exclaimed.  Roman the hog had some nasty bone crushing yellow misaligned teeth.  And a breath that would knock the flies of the shit wagon!
	Boyd patted Roman on the top of his head, “C’ya later, Rome!” 
	The great fart and began relieving himself.
	“I’m outta here!” Brianna said being disgusted.

	“Ooooh, somebody’s in trouble.”
	Boyd squinted peering thru the heat waves watching a county mounty cruiser haul ass across his vision.
	“Heading out to Harlen’s place.” Boyd said.  Brianna fanned herself and asked, “Who’s Harlen?”
	“Jeb Harlen, local moonshiner.”
	Brianna thought a moment, “Isn’t moonshine illegal.”
	Boyd giggled, “Yep.” then, “Come on!”
	Brianna tagged along—she didn’t have much of a choice as Boyd took her by the hand practically dragging her.
	The entire landscape was of flatland, save for the nearby hills.  Meadows and fields made up the flat land, there was the two rivers—one with water and one without.  Farmland and vacant empty land—it all made for a hot-hot/humid-stifling existence and not particularly nifty for sprinting thru.  

	The deputy sheriff car, the county mountie, was not making for moonshiner Harlen, the car took a right and continued on towards Bald Deer River.  There were a few dirt roads about the flat land area, some went no where and some went—somewhere.  The road the deputy went out on went “no where.”  
	A large open space there was right by the dry river.  One lone tree right on the edge of the river bank, a couple of boulders, a firepit where teenagers came to party, and that was it.  The car’s rear doors were open and by the time Boyd and Brianna had made their way thru the tall enough grass to conceal them—business was already taking place.
	“Isn’t that Deputy Lisa?” Brianna asked.
	“Yep!” Boyd said.  He knew her, Brianna knew her, everyone knew her.  She was a likeable person, an officer of the law, a county mountie.  She served the community—and then some.
 	Donny Bloke, Kevin Rynolds, and Bart Crimpson, stood outside the backdoors of the car—naked.  Deputy Lisa laid out on the backseat of her cruiser—mostly naked.  Donny Bloke, thirteen and the oldest of the three, was tan completely all over.  He had dirty blond hair that was long and very unkempt; he was thinly built with the beginnings of having some muscles.  He worked at the general store loading heavy items to customer’s vehicles.
	Kevin Rynolds was a year younger than Donny and he was a rascal; vandalism was just one of his casual pranks—knocking over headstones in the cemetery, putting glue in business door locks, bashing mailboxes.  He was short statured, missing front teeth, wore an earring, and seldom wore a shirt.  He cussed a lot, seldom went to school, and was at the scene of several arsons but never caught.
	Bart Crimpson was also a maibox basher, he also liked to let animals out of their pens, set animals on fire, put burning bags of poo in people’s cars (and mailboxes) and be a general nuisance.  He was eleven and was also tan-tan-tan all over.
	Lisa Warner lay out in the backseat of her patrol car, green uniform slacks at her ankles—along with her underwear.  Her uniform shirt was undone with her undershirt up over her dynamic breasts which were exposed for all to see and admire.
	Donny stood stroking his teenage member and took first dibs.
	Kevin and Bart stood nakedly baking in the hot Summer sun watching and giggling.  Donny mounted the mountie and his cock instantly went into the Deputy’s cunt.  Kevin knelt down and stared at the business while Bart stood seriously stroking and making crude comments.
	“Whoa.” breathed Brianna.

	Boyd giggled, nodded his head, “No biggie.”
	“No biggie?”
	“Naw, she does this shit all the time.”
	Whoa.
	The heat was stifling and Brianna could hardly breathe.
	Donny got his nut, made a loud exclamation saying so and pumped all the harder until he was spent—then he slid up Deputy Lisa’s body to titty fuck her.  Kevin bitched, “Hey, motherfucker, my fuckin’ turn!”
	“Pussy’s free,” Donny said, “I’m busy!”
	Kevin didn’t waste time and took his position neverminding the fact that his head was against Donny’s sweaty ass.  It was quite a scene—one that turned Brianna off.  Boyd wanted to stick around and watch all three boys fuck and then see what else would happen, but Brianna wasn’t into that and wanted to go someplace else.
	“Fuck it’s hot!” Brianna bitched aloud.  The two were in the middle of one of the numerous meadows,
	“Hey,” Boyd said, “I know someplace cool!”
	Dragging his girl they scurried thru the meadow following this trail and then that one finally coming back to the sunken mine site.  Brianna was not so enthused—Boyd knew it,
	“Sorry, but it’ll cool us off.”
	That was true and Brianna let go the fact that the sunken site was dangerous.  Boyd was already out of his clothes and barrel jumped into the middle of secluded pond.  Brianna took her time—debating taking a dip.  But off came her top (no bra) and down came her jean shorts.  Boyd bobbed in the water, smiling, hard, and lusting.  Brianna slowly slid down her panties and stood up looking around for security sake.  The heat was incredible—she backed up and made her run barreling into the refreshing water, too.
	Boyd flipped about diving down to the bottom (again); Brianna stayed up top and stayed away from the visible sunken equipment and closer to the shore.  Boyd popped up sputtering—“Man!  This is great!”
	“Is that stuff still down there?”
	Boyd cocked his head, “Where else would it go?”  Girls!
	The two enjoyed swimming with Boyd ultimately getting up close to his girl.  They kissed then embraced—Boyd’s schlong right up against Brianna.  She giggled and after finding suitable foot to brace herself and keep herself upright and steady—found Boyd’s cock and toyed with it.

*

	“Who’s that?”
	“Gavin Givesadam.”
	“Who’s that with him?”
	“His niece.”
	It was hot out—Autumn wondered if it actually ever got “cold” therebouts; she’d been told of frosts and sometimes even snow.  She’d give her allowance for the whole Summer, plus the extra money, if it would just be even ten degrees cooler.
	What seemed odd to Angus and Autumn was the sneakiness Gavin seemed to be about.  He kept making “security” checks as he made way across the First Church parking lot and to a tool shed.
	“I think he works there,” Angus said, “I don’t know much about him.”
	“Let’s go see what they’re doing.” Autumn mused.  Angus was game.

	In the tool shed:
	Gavin Givesadam and his young niece were hugging.  What they were saying couldn’t be heard—and barely seen thru the grimy-dirty encrusted windows.  And after much ado about hugging the man stepped back but began rubbing the girl’s legs.  The girl, Summer, was about ten or so; blond hair done up in a short pony tail; she had a sort of flat face, thin lips, beautiful blue eyes, she was quite the little charmer—and didn’t seem to mind her Uncle getting “friendly” with her.
	The friendliness got more friendly when Summer leaned back and tugged her own pants down.  Gavin undone his and dropped them—no undies.  His penis was hard and he began stroking it all the while the girl pushed her blue cut-off shorts down her long nicely tanned legs.  Teasingly she opened her legs; she was blushing and giggling so—eyeing her Uncle’s face and then his very hard prick.
	She offered no resistance when Gavin hooked her pinkish panties and tugged them down.  He tugged them down slowly, too.  Summer giggled, blushed, held her hands up to her face, the whole bit.  Gavin brought the panties off her ankles, sniffed the crotch then casually dropped the garment and gingerly pulled the girl by the ankles to him—specifically to his throbbing manhood erection.

	With her legs up, ankles on his shoulders, Gavin Givesadam began rubbing his pud against her sex.  Rub-rub-rub  Little Summer giggled and twisted about until finally her Unc was putting himself IN.  She made a little bit of a face, pinched her bottom lip, gripped the edge of the work table she was on and received cock.  
	Gavin was slow and gentle—and it couldn’t be determined if the girl had been broken in prior or not.  She didn’t fuss (too much) and giggled a few times, too.  Gavin pumped continuously slow and gentle-like until the end.  Then he hugged the girl, scooped her up and held her tightly (with his hands clamped to her delicious little butt) and seemingly “danced” while holding her.

	“I thought he was going to be here?”
	“Me, too.”
	The oppressive heat was getting worse and despite their refreshing dip in the sunken mine pool—they were suffering (the heat) and in need of a new dip.
	“Must of went somewhere else,” Boyd said slinging his daypack into a corner of the train stop shack, “maybe our secret pond,”
	“Or the train bridge at the river.”
	Boyd wasn’t sure, he thought Angus was coming to the shack.
	“It’s too hot to wait for him.” Brianna declared.
	That was true but Boyd hated to have to miss the running-away friend.
	“Let’s go to the trestle.”
	“Likely spot.”
	Although the trek along the rails from the train shack to the train trestle wasn’t a particularly long jaunt—Brianna thought she’d die before she got there.  Once there and “no Angus”,
	“Now what?”
	Boyd didn’t know, he pissed into the river and skipped some rocks.
	“It’s a long ways back to the pond.”
	“I’m not humping it to the pond!” Brianna declared flatly.
	Boyd wasn’t so much into that route, either.  “Wonder what happened to him?” Dejected he sat down and continued skipping as many flat rocks across the river as he could—waiting.	

	“Who’s that?”
	“Kristy Lamas.”
	The day was getting on so—and getting hotter!  Autumn yearned for Fall, her namesake.  It would, of course, mean Summer would be over but at least it would begin to get cooler.  Fall was her favorite time of the year; other than being cooler there were more pleasant scents in the air, a county fair; pumpkins, Halloween!
	“Who’s that with her?”
	Angus wasn’t sure, “Let’s get closer.”

	Does anyone do anything during the other seasons of the year, y’know, when it’s not a scorching belligerent 100 degrees plus?  Oh well, Kristy Lamas, thirteen, sat on her knees naked being well cooked by the Summer’s sun.  Nice girl (especially naked!)  She was way friendly, had started some sort of babysitting club in town (and Angus had heard her fart once!)  
	Super curly bouncy brown hair she kept up most times in a single pony tails and wore it very seldom any other way.  She was the ace pitcher for the town’s softball team and Angus had seen her at the dry river “exploring.”  With her were eight year old Lonnie Gimmie and seven year old Megan Lovin.  They were naked, too.
	There was a rolled grass mat with their clothing mixed all around; a daypack containing water and snack foods, and a radio.  Kristy looked nice—real nice (especially naked!)  Her skin was gently tanned (all over!) and she had good posture.  Little naked Megan Lovin wasn’t bad, either—for being merely eight; the girl had a unique face; kind of flat and round with a sharp chin.  Bright-bright heavenly eyes, a small nose and a fantastic smile.  Super curly brown hair to her shoulders; a flat chest, flat body, nice butt, though.
	Young Lonnie Gimmie stood with a bit of an erection.  Hands on his hips, his naked body was also well tanned, short reddish brown hair, some freckles, and deeply fascinated with Kristy—er, infatuated.  Being naked with Megan Lovin was a plus, too.  Both girls tugged on Lonnie’s willy, they fondled his balls and it seemed as though Kristy was coaxing Megan how to “fondle.”

	This “teaching” took place just outside of town under the semi shade of what few trees there were.  The remains of sheds, shacks, or whatever were about; there was a questionable fence of mixed types, mostly barbed wire but mixed in chicken wire, clapboards, lodge pole, and simple wire.  The closest house was the Johansen place that had a lot of chickens in a large open field.  There were “fields” in all directions, scattered trailers both inhabitable and otherwise.  Abandoned pickups, a fruit hauler semi, household appliances, and broken cement slabs from some city downtown project.  It was a haven for kids of the nearby town to make their way into the abandonment and play.  Kristy Lamas’ select area was relatively secure—the trees, surrounding cement piles, heaps of tires, and the time of day.
	With Megan laying down, Kristy instructed Lonnie “how to finger.”
	Megan giggled and blushed, twisted her little body, and laughed out loud.  Lonnie giggled, too; his little puddling was quite stiff and it wasn’t clear if it had been sucked or not.  The boy “went down” on the little girl, licking her private slit, inserting finger, inserting tongue…

	When Lonnie got onto Megan and began grinding against her, Angus had no choice but to unleash the beast.  His cock was HUGE and he had to risk making noise.  Squeezing his pud wasn’t cutting it, though, he lay on his back in the tall giraffe grass lightly masturbating.
	Autumn watched him, checked the goings on concerning Kristy and the kids, then slowly-slowly-s-l-o-w-l-y slid her pants and undies down—then off.  Once off she slowly slid herself onto her pudgy lover, straddling his chest first.  God!  It was HOT out—too hot to be fooling around so, but she lightly grinded her hairless poon against his smooth sweating—heaving chest.  Then she moved up to perch herself on his sweet sweaty handsome face.
	There she farted and peed!

	Kristy made small circles on Lonnie Gimmie’s humping ass; the boy didn’t quite have the knack of “putting it to” the girl beneath him but he did ok.  For the first minute the boy merely humped Megan’s slit—that was deemed ok, too.  Kristy fingered herself while caressing Lonnie’s ass; she squeezed his ass when the tingling fires of sexual illicit passion were fired up in her cunny—a daring finger probed Lonnie’s hole.  The boy continued to hump—eventually making vaginal penetration and getting on with the program.

	More than once and did Kristy sense something was wrong with her surroundings.  Other than it being scorching hot, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being “watched.”  But if so?  Why did “whoever” come out and bust her?
	More than once and did Kristy hear noises.  She couldn’t make them out and on the sullen listless hot as hell Summer air she couldn’t determine if the “noises” were close or far away.  
	More than once and did Kristy undulate her young teenage body all over; a shiver that was intense enough to be called “orgasm.”  Her fingers worked tirelessly frigging her equally hot as hell cunt all the while caressing and squeezing Lonnie’s ass until she couldn’t take it any more, ‘screw her,’ she thought loudly, ‘screw me!’
	Lonnie sat up to look down his body to see his dick working in and out of Megan’s cunt; his naughty caretaker gently repositioned him onto her.  Kristy laid out beside Megan who fingered-fingered-fingered her pussy giggling and being a bit squeamish about the whole deal.  Lonnie glided his cock up and down Kristy’s hairless cunt but only managed a couple of swipes before a very horny Kristy guided him into her sex and they commenced to serious fucking.
	In the tall non-swaying grass just yards away,
	Angus tried his best to keep from sputtering out and giving themselves away.  He had often commented how he liked to see a girl peeing and how he would like to see a girl pee standing up, piss thru her panties, or even “piss on my face!”
	Well, he got his wish!
	The girl giggled and dug her pussy into Angus’ face, specifically his nose before scooting back down his body.  Angus wasn’t sure how to take being actually pissed on.  After wiping off his face he got another joy—Autumn pressing her pissy pussy onto his cock.  She had a unique talent—one of which she probably wasn’t aware; her young pussy easily tantalized his cock as she sat on it.  It felt good and was a unique feeling.  But of course, Angus having had limited sexual contact with a girl didn’t have much to go on.
	After Autumn teased her beau with her unique pussy talent, she raised up a bit and settled herself down onto his throbbing erection then laid down on him.  Angus smoothed his hand about her butt and lightly began to pump.

	“Who’s that?”
	“Jack Brady.”
	“Nice car.”
	Late model Firebird; sleek black, hot wheels, bitchin’ stereo, the whole persona of the famous one from some movie.  It roared up a dirt road to a ranch house and seventeen year old hot stud star football player Jack Brady crawled out, cowboy hat an’ all.  After dusting himself off he sauntered casually up to the covered porch where he was met by Eunice Tywilleger.  She was a tall woman, slender body, farm house dress; married, too!  (but not so as you know it)
	After a pleasant greeting and did Eunice invite her visitor in.
	Did I say “invite”?  The woman practically dragged him inside!
	And once inside there was a very amorous hug involving much hand roaming and serious smooching.  That was followed up by amorous Eunice practically ripping the cowboy stud’s shirt off.
	And damn if he didn’t have a nice chest!  Hairless, smooth skin, muscular.  More embracing and then the “in need” woman took Jack by the hand leading him (dragging him) to the bedroom.  Once there—more hugging followed by a quick undressing.  Eunice was out of her farm dress in a flash; studly Jack seemingly took his time—so much so that Eunice was naked before he was!  On her knees she hurriedly got the boy’s pants down along with his boxers in one fell swoop.  She didn’t even pause—she grabbed holt of the boy’s proud organ and quickly manipulated it in her expert hands.  She stroked and stroked and stroked the pulsing prong—then kissed the tip of the bulbous thing before engulfing it.
	Naked Jack made pleasing noises of ecstasy and began to pump into his Science teacher’s mouth.  She took it, cupped his balls, caressed his ass, and sucked the life out of his cock.
	That lasted barely five minutes.
	Onto the bed the woman led her student, she taught the high schoolers of the community, surrounding tri-county community and this was just a little extra curricular activity.  On the bed she flung herself bringing her teen lover with her.  The boy mounted and lay on the woman—for a minute (and just a minute) they passionately kissed.  Jack humped on her cunt, groped her womanly breasts, and after a minute of “foreplay” drove his seriously hard teenage schlong into her hot and bothered cunt.
	They then did fuck madly for five minutes.
	It was awesome to see; their arms and legs akimbo, their bodies meshing as one—his cock popping out now and then and Eunice hungrily near desperately grabbing it shoving it back in.

	And on and on it went.
	How many orgasms Eunice had was unknown—Jack Brady, however, had one—and it was a BIG ONE!  The teen heartthrob of many a teenage girl (and younger) made a very audible announcement of his orgasm; he shuddered, arched his back and drove dramatically his throbbing cock into his womanly lover’s cunt shooting a massive wad of man-cum.
	But unlike a man—teenage Jack lay on the woman caressing her heaving breasts, grinning, and still cumming!  The two lovers nestled together, kissed, then sat up facing one another—admiring one another, then lit up a doobie and got stoned!

	Also getting stoned was a family not far away.  
	A family?  
	Yep.  Claudia Yen was a teenage girl Angus knew; she was friendly, acknowledged his existence on the Earth, and he had seen her totally devour a chili dog—whole!  That scored aces with Angus.  And “scoring” was the thing—but there was more to it than simply smoking a joint.  With Claudia was Ollie Brewer.  He was fourteen, Claudia was a year younger, and they were smoking pot with Claudia’s Mom!
	Wow!
	Claudia’s Mom, Tessie, took a long hit of the joint before passing it on, she made some comments, fanned herself, then nodded her head repeatedly saying, “That’s some good shit!”
	No where near their house for some reason, the trio happily flirted about the cosmos behind Herb’s Emporium (Herb?)  It was a cool tranquil setting, private, shaded, secure.  Claudia and her Mom passed the joint back and forth and to Ollie; thing was, though, Ollie wasn’t “smoking.”  He was faking it!  He smiled, bobbed his head and about and giggled and went thru the motions of “taking a hit” but he wasn’t.  
	After slugging down, too, a hit from a whiskey bottle, Claudia and her Mom passed out.  Ollie paused a moment, looked around—then pulled off Claudia’s tank top.  The bra came nextly followed by the removal of her pinkish gym shorts and panties in one fluid motion.  A quirky smile came to the teen’s face, he stared and stared and stared at the girl’s quim—it was a nice quim; lightly covered with a bit of pube forest, with just a hint of not being so virginal.
	Ollie quickly pushed down his pants and boxers then positioned himself between her legs.  His teen cock masterfully went firstly up and down her trench before slowly sliding in.

	For the first minute the boy did his thing s-l-o-w-l-y.  Then, his cock popped out and he humped the girl’s cunt and while doing so he fondled the breasts of Tessie laying passed out beside them—then he moved his hand down her body to her crotch and gave that a good feel, too.
	Tessie and Claudia were Chinese, Tessie more than Claudia.  There were several “rings” on Tessie’s fingers so it couldn’t be determined if she were married to the American Daddy of Claudia or not.  Not that it mattered (not to Ollie.)
	After putting his pud back into Claudia’s cunt, he went for it for several minutes almost cumming off—but reaching that lofty plateau and unable to cum off for some reason.  With a big sigh he pulled out and humped her cunt surface some more before reinserting and humping tenaciously for another minute then shooting a massive wad of pent up cum.
	Ollie collapsed and lay in a heap heaving on Claudia; he suckled her breasts, tweaked the nipples, then rolled to lay on his back heaving under the shade of a great elm.  

*

	“Are there any fish in there?”
	“I’ve seen some flopping around, it’s a pretty deep river so I guess there’s some big ones in there somewhere.”
	Brianna half thought her beau would make up some big ass fish story—she was surprised when he didn’t.  
	“Maybe they’re doing it.”
	“Who?  What?” Boyd said stripping off his clothes and preparing for a dip.
	“Lady Godiva and the King of Siam!  Autumn and Angus, of course.”
	“Oh,” said Boyd standing the river’s edge, pissing into it, “they could be.” then, “coming in?” 
	“Not after you’ve pissed in it!” but she did strip off her clothes but went up from where her beau had peed—and entered the river.
	All along the river there were large clumps of water grass, towering weeds, river debris containing tires and parts of boats, huge old trees leaning far over the river’s bank, and so on.  Brianna kept to the one side of the train bridge where there were stalks of something like bamboo, pampas clumps, and cattails.  Boyd swam out to the closet piling; there was a rope serving as some sort of guide that made a large circle tied from the piling to a stake embedded on shore.  Good thing, cause--

	Moments after reaching the piling Boyd suddenly felt a strong current grab his legs.  It felt like someone’s hands.  If not for the rope he would have been gone.  He tried not to look desperate or panicky but it was close.  Clinging to the rope he pulled himself to the shore.
	‘that’s never happened before.’ He thought to himself.  He had been out to the piling many times, a few times—but never felt the river try to drown him.  
	Brianna was waist deep in among the bamboo-like weeds or whatever they were; Boyd came up to her (and still was a little panicky) saying “Water’s cold.”
	Brianna shrugged, “feels ok to me.”
	Boyd was concerned, he knew in part that the girls wouldn’t go out to the piling, but Brianna did go out a few feet from the shore.  Water was good; kept you clean, quenched your thrist, refreshed a parched body.  Water could also hide hazards and drown your ass.
	Brianna moved slowly about pushing away collecting garbage; Boyd stood behind her still recovering from the near mishap.  Noting Brianna’s lovely naked body he smiled and got wood.
	‘nice.’ He said to himself and moved slowly up behind the unsuspecting girl.  She knew he was there—‘specially when his cock touched her ass.
	“Oooooh,” she said, “I think I feel a snake!”
	Boyd laughed, “Yeah, a BIG cottonmouth!”
	Brianna giggled—‘well, not THAT big!’ she turned to face him and take holt of his schlong, stroke it lovingly, then embrace her horny beau.  Boyd wasn’t so much into “embracing”; it was just something he had to tolerate.  Girls!  The only part of the embracing he liked was being up against his girl, squeezing her breasts against his chest, his cock against her body, and his hands groping her butt.  Other than that he could do without the embracing and just get down to the business at hand.
	Slowly the embracing faded and the two moved to the muddy bank where Brianna laid down not so thrilled with the “mud” but it was easily and handily washed off.  Boyd mounted with his cock going right into her sex.  He was all a-blush, smiling, giggling, being a typical mischievous boy.  His cock was nice and pleased Brianna.  They began to kiss and Boyd began to pump.
	Suddenly, there were voices…

	The voices couldn’t be made out but they were boys.  Boyd and Brianna slipped into the river and were mostly concealed by the foliage.  Four boys came down from the tracks down the hillside, one boy was shirtless.
	“Do you know them?”
	Boyd shook his head, “high schoolers.” he said.  Squinting hard he tried to make out who was who; Hank Herbert, Craig Nelson he recognized and could identify—they were from his town.  They were high schoolers and around sixteen or so.  The other two boys weren’t known.
	By their talk and other attributes it was determined that the boys were “not nice.”  Bully-like if not fully bully; bad mouths; crass; and muscled.  The slinking ones in the river thought it best not to make themselves known—‘specially being naked!
	The four boys came down the hill pushing and shoving one another; the leader, Hank Herbert, was most muscled, shirtless, very tan all over, long dark hair and hated people of color, people of other countries, school, authority figures, and then everyone else.  He made a quick look to the river then made for under the trestle and up inside.  The others followed pushing and shoving one another.  
	The voices could hardly be heard but Boyd caught something about,
	“Ole Mr. Matthews would shit if he knew,”
	“Fucker knows, but he cant prove shit!”
	Other statements were made but couldn’t be made out.
	Suddenly,
	“SON-OF-A-FUCKING-BITCH!” that was Hank—and he was pissed.  “Some motherfucker stole my stash!”
	ut-oh
	‘Ut-oh.’ Boyd gulped.
	Brianna shot him a look.  She looked a fright.  Wisely the two slid further back to be further away and out of sight.  The four boys came out kicking the dirt with Hank Herbert the most pissed.
	“God-fucking-damn it!”
	then,
	“Hey!” shouted one of the boys Boyd didn’t know, “look at this shit.”
	“Oh, no!” breathed Brianna, “Our clothes!”
	Hank was furious and looked around madly, one of his cronies held panties in his hand and opening them up he made a determination, 
	“Hey, these a little bitch’s drawers!”
	“FIND THEM!” shouted Hank.
	Boyd grabbed Brianna dragging her under water and away.

*

getting down and dirty
	Dawn Omassman; of all the girls in town, even in the neighboring towns; girls who were teenage years; girls who were cheerleaders; and girls who had popularity hands down—had nothing in the looks department that Dawn Omassman had.  She was just thirteen but had incredible beauty; styled auburn hair, gorgeous skin, and pleasing oh-so pleasing to the eye.
	She looked great in dresses, skirts, or jeans.  She was friendly, outgoing, and everyone liked her.  Logan Masters was one who “liked” her and though they were not “boyfriend/girlfriend” they hung out like they were.  Logan Masters was “warm for her form.”  Which was typical of most teenage boys.  Logan was a year older; he had looks that were pleasing to the eye, too.
	One day, Logan was at Dawn’s house—reason unknown.  In the kitchen, where Logan was lingering, was Dawn and her little sister, Stephanie.  Stephanie was a mere six years young.  Whether or not there was anyone else was not known—not yet.
	The group were yapping, a plate of cookies was cooling—minus a couple that young Stephanie had snagged.  She was a cutey herself, long blond hair, blue eyes, and cute as a button!  Logan leaned against a counter, also noshing on a cookie while Dawn made another batch intended for some party later on.
	Next thing you know—the yapping Dawn and Stephanie stopped yapping.
	Logan stood still—somewhat, he looked at the girls and seemed nervous.  He had polished off the cookie and had something hidden in his hands.  Slowly—ever so slowly he moved towards Dawn checking Stephanie as he did so.  Once at Dawn—he waved his hand right in front of her face.
	The girl didn’t respond; she didn’t rear back, lean back, nothing.
	Logan held his breath, licked his lips thoughtfully, then “casually” brushed the back of his hand against Dawn’s right breast.  The girl didn’t respond, didn’t yell, didn’t kill him.  The oven timer showed 7 minutes before the next batch of cookies—that was time enough.  
	Stepping up close to Dawn—and continuing to check Stephanie, Logan embraced Dawn, squeezing her to him and riskily patting her butt.  The girl still didn’t freak out, scream, or kill him.  Logan sighed and began an earnest butt grope followed by squeezing her delicious teenage breasts.

	With his cock burgeoning the foreplay ended with Logan on his knees undoing Dawn’s light blue jeans.  They were “tight” and he betted that her Dad had fits when seeing his daughter waltzing about so.  Anyways, down came Dawn’s pants.  Though there wasn’t really sufficient time—Logan took a moment to ogle the girl in her powder blue panties.  Nice-nice-nice.
	With the powder blue panties down it was even nicer!
	Breathing hard there just wasn’t time—but screw it!  With extreme caution and care he put Dawn on the floor.  The view of her naked cunny was incredible!  Right down onto it did Logan go, licking the furry burger with gusto!  He tasted a little pee but didn’t mind it—he lapped happily away until his throbbing organ still locked inside his pants demanded attention.  Reaching down he quickly undone his pants and pushed them down then positioned himself on top of the unwary girl.
	The buzzer on the oven was a bit of a distraction—but screw it!  Logan noted the buzzer but kept on his task—which was putting it to thirteen year old Dawn O.  Her pussy was fantastic!  His cock went sailing nicely into her quim—repeatedly.  When he finally achieved a “rhythm” he took the moment to push up her shirt and get at those breasts.
	What bothered him was the lifelessness in her beautiful eyes.
	Then the pivotal moment of ecstasy came but not the anticipated orgasm.  It was there but then it wasn’t.  The humping was still good, though.  
	Reaching for Stephanie he hooked the girl’s pants and pulled her to him; he gave his cock a bit of a rest break and undone Steph’s purple pants taking them down.  Lavender panties greeted him.  He seemed to have no compunction about the age of the girl and pulled down her panties.  A huge broad smile came to be on his face—he resumed screwing the girl’s sister and seemed to have lurid thoughts escalating to the point whereas he gently laid the child down and began fingering her bald pussy.
	The act—the act of molesting Stephanie, increased his sexual fire and he seriously “put it to” the girl’s big sister.  His eyes, though, maintain a lock on the near naked Stephanie.  There was something about seeing the girl laid out on the floor, pants and panties at her ankles, her nice naked bald pussy right there for him to finger—it increased his sex drive and he drove it deeper with more umph.
	The umph ended another two minutes in with a dramatic fury.  Logan arched his back and very nearly howled at the moon!  He did take one of Dawn’s hands having her rub his sweaty ass.  The sensations were more than he could imagine—even more so!

	When finally the deed was done, Logan rest a moment while his naughty cock squirted all its juices.  Then there was the necessary clean-up and putting the girls back to where they were—but not before taking his tongue to Stephanie’s pussy.  He just had to!
	Little Steph remained steadfastly still but just a minute into the deed of licking her out—Dawn began to stir.  Logan scurried about the floor in search for his mind altering device and was in a dire panic when there was a blinking yellow light on the keypad.  That wasn’t good news.
	First of first was getting his pants up.  Then he brought Dawn up and wiped clean her cum stained cunny—and got sexually horny again.  Caressing her ass, wiping her pussy, and seeing the naked Stephanie on the floor all put the poor boy into a frenzy.  Somehow he curbed himself and straightened Dawn out, then pulled Steph up, wiped her down, and took a daring minute to pull his cock out and hump the little girl’s sweet face!
	What a guy!

*

	“River musta took ‘em.” stated one of the other boys.
	“Bullshit!” bitch-shouted Hank, “Fuckers are here!”
	The other boys would disagree with Hank, they wouldn’t dare.
	“Go up on the bridge,” bitched Hank, “see if you can see them from there.”
	Craig and another boy scurried up the hillside and onto the bridge.
	Hank, holding the mixed clothing of the two unknowns stomped around the river’s edge yelling loudly “WHERE ARE YOU?” then, in a fit of pissed offedness launched the clothing into the river.
	The other remaining boy, Allen Assburns, said “Hey, maybe some bum-hobo guy found the loot.”
	It was a possibility.  Hank was still pissed and it didn’t sit well with him.  Suddenly, from up on the bridge, the two boys began yelling.
	“What the fuck?” Hank asked of Allen.
	Allen shrugged “I don’t know” to wit Hank slugged him in the chest saying, “Go fucking find out!” then kicked at the ground sending dirt flying to the fleeing Allen.
	Allen had no more gotten to the top of the hill when the distinctive sound of a train rumbled into the sullen air.  The boys on the bridge were running, they had made it to the middle of the bridge and the train was coming across from the opposite end.
	It was quite a frightening experience.

	So much so that one of the boys, Craig, jumped.
	The other boy with him was freaking out yelling to be heard but not over the roar of the 2:10 Westbound.  He was no where near the safety standout and just inches from the whizzing by locomotive.
	On shore and Hank was not so freaking out as he was pissed, kicking the ground and flipping out.  Allen was screaming, dancing around—then saw Craig floundering in the middle of the river.  
	“NOOOO!” he screamed—and watched the boy disappear under.  In a flash he was off getting sidelined by Hank.
	“You fuckin’ dope!  Whattya fuckin’ doing?”
	In a short burst of bravery times two, Allen shoved Hank screaming,
	“I’m going after him!”
	Hank temporarily forgot/forgave the shove, “You fuckin’ idiot, you cant go in there!”
	Hank was wrong ‘cause Allen did.
	There was no sign of Tory, the other boy who had been on the bridge.  Hank walked around in circles cussing and talking to himself.  Allen was out beyond the pylon—where the current was strong.  There was no sign of Craig.
	“Son-of-a-fucking-bitch!” bitched Hank—he continued to waltz around kicking and bitching.  Then,
	From out in the middle channel of the river Allen began screaming for help.  Hank made way to the water but stopped when the river was up to his knees.  Allen was floundering and going under being swept further upstream.  Hank backed up out of the water and the spot where the trail came down from the hill.  He seemed nervous and not quite himself.
	Then, in a sudden burst of bravery without the macho bravado he charged into the water.  From the onset it was clear—he couldn’t swim and seemed deathly afraid of water.  Floundering himself the boy nearly drowned—to the point of where the slinking in hiding Boyd Aryndon nearly came out to help.  
	Hank, though, managed to grab the rope and pull himself back to shore where he collapsed sputtering and choking for several minutes.  After some time had passed the boy pushed himself up, hung his head and said stuff unintelligible.  With a long sigh he stood up and turned to the river.
	A barge was coming, it blared it’s horn as it came to the trestle, a customary obligation or something.  Hank sloughed his way up the hill—where he found the lifeless body of the other boy, Tory.  He hadn’t been hit by the train—he merely had died of fright.  Hank stared at him for a long while, then screamed at him, kicked him, then fled down the tracks home.

	“I don’t ever want to come back here again.” firmly stated Brianna.
	“Gotcha,” Boyd said holding her hand and guiding her out of the weeds, “no problem.”
	“How we going to get home?”
	“Walk, I guess.” Boyd said with a shrug.
	“Without our clothes?” Brianna asked sharply.
	Boyd, exasperated, “You know where they are.”
	Brianna relaxed; yeah, she knew.  A look to the river and she sighed dejectedly.  “Son-of-a-fucking-bitch.” then, “Guess we walk home naked.”
	“Guess so.” 

*

naughty is as naughty does
	Dawn looked as if she were about to hurl.
	Little Stephanie sneezed and then farted.
	Logan looked like he was ready to bolt.
	But not to worry, Dawn recovered; she got a wet washcloth going on her pretty face, rubbed her stomach, then scooted to the bathroom, dragging Stephanie with her.  That act somewhat alarmed Logan Masters and after the hall bathroom out of the kitchen closed he quickly followed.
	Noting that there was a light ‘neath the door he tread carefully so as not to cast a shadow and alert the girls on the other side; then he knelt down and peered thru the skeleton key hole.
	He couldn’t see much—but what he saw was enlightening.  Dawn was apparently sitting on the toilet, whether or not she was with pants on or not was not known; but little Stephanie stood before her sister with her pants and undies down.
	Dawn was checking Stephanie for signs of rape!
	Logan began to sweat; did she check herself?  Logan realized there could be a slight problem with his shenanigans.  Bringing the EMAD out to play he firstly debated ‘too much use and the Subject gets a brain tumor’ the guy whom Logan got the mind altering device warned him.  Not too mention would it work thru a wooden door?	
	‘sight on sight’ Logan had been told, the EMAD had to have a line of sight with the Subject and try not to go after more than two or three.  But he had to try—Dawn seemed suspicious and he had to nip that in the bud and quick!
	‘you can manipulate their minds a little—instruct new instructions.’ But he had to be careful, small words, slowly spoken, and short instruct.

	The EMAD control panel blinked to life and he watched the small little diode lights blink and sighed relief when the green lights indicated Subject One & Two were “tagged.”  He waited a moment longer then twisted the knob—relieved again that Dawn hadn’t locked the door.
	Dawn had her pants on still—that was good.  Little Stephanie had her pants and undies at her ankles.  In one point, Logan was pissed that he couldn’t be trusted!  It annoyed him but he understood the girl’s position—no one—NO ONE could be trusted.
	Dropping down behind the pantsed Steph, Logan caressed the girl’s ass, “reached around” and fingered her little dainty pussy before locking eyes with Dawn.  She seemed so serious!  With a nervous sigh he stood and pulled Dawn up to a standing position then got her pants undone (again.)
	A washrag wiped clean her cunt but he still wondered if she could discover in some way that she had been fucked?  He wondered how he could word it so she wouldn’t find out.
	With her pussy clean—‘nothing happened.’ It was simple and the best that he could come up with.  Then he slightly worried about ‘what if she’ll get pregnant?’  consequences.
	For a long while he stood with his mind in uproar.  At length he settled, hugged the girl into an embrace, caressed her ass—and subsequently got horny again!  So what was a horny boy to do?  He smiled and gently laid the girl down on the floor…

There’s no morals like having no morals
	The smell of cookies filled the cool air—mixed in the lingering odor of fresh made sex!  It was a bit of a quandary to diversify whether he was turned on by putting it to Dawn—or the little girl laying nakedly on the floor by them?  All over Stephanie’s body did he roam a hand; fingering a pussy, turning her over to caress her butt—even spank it!  All the while he humped the girl’s teenage sister.
	It was a good fuck—only interrupted by the intrusion of the girls’ Mother—Logan had always wanted to fuck Debra Omassman (and so he did!)  
	Slipping out of the bathroom—leaving the girls as they were on the floor, Logan sneaked up to the transition from the hallway to the kitchen.  Debra stood with her back to him; she was beautiful!  In her 30s, auburn hair that was beautifully styled; she wore beige slacks, a striped blouse, and a few pieces of jewelry.
	And that smell!  Her perfume magically overwhelmed the cookies!

	Logan had long since been enamored with Debra Omassman, inasmuch as he jerked off thinking of Dawn, and a few other girls he knew, he did equally hump his favorite organ thinking of Debra.  
	At the breakfast table she had a collection of mail she was rifling through; a small bag of groceries, and a briefcase.  Logan knew he was a risky venture—he had Dawn and Stephanie in the bathroom, the warning of ‘don’t go overboard’ rang in his head.  But he had to try.
	Very-very carefully he pressed the appropriate sensor buttons on the Electronic Mind Altering Device and prayed for a green light.  On the indicator LCD screen there was indicated the brain wave patterns of the intended Subject.  That was a good thing, it meant that the EMAD had contact with the Subject.
	Next was “capturing” those brain wave patterns.
	Proceed? The EMAD asked.
	Logan sighed, if he said YES and pressed the appropriate button—either the EMAD would lock Debra’s mind—or the unit would fail completely being overtaxed.
	There was no backup plan.  No plan B.  No escape.
	For a second he thought of carefully backing up to the bathroom and releasing Dawn and her sister.  That would have been the wiser thought of action.  But being horny and lustful for Debra overwhelmed him and closing his eyes he went on with the Procedure.
	For a second—nothing.  With eyes closed he listened—no shuffling of mail, no jingle of bracelets on the wrist.  The scent of cookies and wild strawberry perfume filled the air only.  Logan opened his eyes and saw Debra standing absolutely still.
	On the EMAD—green lights across the board.  The little nifty Pervert’s device extradoniare was working beautifully and showed that it had not one, not two, but three brain wave patterns—locked!  Amazing!
	On his knees behind her, Logan slid her slack down pressing his face to her panty clad ass.  As much as he liked fucking Dawn and rubbing Stephanie’s ass—getting jiggy with the girls’ Mom was tops.  For a minute or so he merely rubbed his face all over the woman’s ass; then he slid her panties down and repeated the deed—licking her butt as an addition.
	That was followed up by taking the woman to the floor.
	Easier said than done.

	Dawn and Stephanie were easy, they didn’t weigh as much.  A full grown woman who was six feet tall and some years older was a bit of a task.  There were better EMADs that allowed the User to “instruct” his Subjects.  Logan didn’t have one of those upgraded devices and was lucky to have the one he had!
	There wasn’t time but Logan took a long looksee at Debra once he had her slacks and panties off followed by her blouse and bra.  The woman in her thirties was laid out on the floor—stark naked.  It was a treasure to behold—and he beholded it!
	Enough gawking, down came his pants and onto the woman he went dragging his throbbing erection against her cunt.  He nearly exploded right then and there as he began slipping himself into her sex.  It was more fantastic than he could imagine!  He knew his cock was spewing before he was all the way in her!
	What if SHE got pregnant?
	Wow.  Wouldn’t THAT be a dousy?  Both she and her teenage daughter—pregnant!  There was no Mr. Omassman in the house, no brothers, and no boyfriends.  It would be curious for sure as to how both came up with child.  
	Logan concentrated on the deed and humped a good hump feeling his cock surging with each pump.  Debra’s nipples hardened drawing Logan to suckle and increase his sex driving.  He knew in part that it would be a bit better if the one(s) he made love to where “awake” and not so zombie-like.  But it was a fair bet that neither Debra or her daughter would let him screw them like he was doing.
	With one final drive he released a massive wad of pent up cum.  An entire body shudder there was followed by a near passing out.  A total lack of energy and he was just about worthless.  But what a scene; Logan’s pants and undies at his ankles, sprawled out on a naked woman sprawled out on her kitchen floor.  Then, down the hall in a bathroom, two girls were laid out mindless, too!
	Logan took a few minutes to recover—his cock was STILL in Debra’s pussy!  Pulling out and another jet of spunk spewed forth.  The sensation of cumming and withdrawing was mind-blowing.  It was orgasmic!  Another shudder, a shiver, and Logan Master’s lay off on his back heaving—he never noticed the green lights on his wrist worn EMAD go to yellow…

*

spendin’ the night together—uh-huh—oh-oh—yeah
	“You’re gonna get me in sooo much trouble!”
	“Relax, babe, it’ll be cool.”
	Famous last words.
	The walk from the trestle thru the meadow, avoiding the sunken mine site, and then up to the edge of the meadow was a long walk—‘specially when yer naked and barefoot!
	“Fuckers could have left our shoes!” bitched Brianna.
	Boyd had always wanted to go nude but this was a bit much.  He understood a little bit why the wearing of clothes was important—that fucking sun was HOT!
	From the edge of the meadow to Brianna’s grandparents’ house was a bit of a stretch—there was an empty bare field then the house.  A lodge pole fence surrounded the house, the house sat in the middle of its lot having twenty feet or so of bare open space from the fence to the house.  And Brianna’s bedroom was, of course, on the second floor.  A bit of a stretch indeed.  And it was hours before the sun set.  Brianna had to be IN long before that—some chores to do, to be seen at least, and supper at six.  It was four-thirty.
	In the backyard there was laundry fluttering in the slight breeze.  A rock garden with cactus plants all about, a bit of lawn with unmowed grass that Boyd was supposed to mow, and broad daylight to compensate for.
	Boyd’s feet were sore, so were Brianna’s.  It was hot out, their tan bodies were searing with some sunburn in the make.  
	“What’s the plan?” Brianna asked.
	Boyd didn’t have one—but he was making one.  Taking his girl’s hand he led her to the right keeping just inside the meadow.  As it was, Brianna’s grandparents’ house there was a small dirt road behind the backyard.  A massive open field of dirt and piles of debris was there but the distance to the house was significantly smaller and offered better concealment.
	Of course, from the backyard fence to the house there was openness.
	“We might be able to make the shed (tool shed).”
	Brianna agreed.
	“Any chance of clothes being in there?”
	Brianna wasn’t sure, but there WERE clothes on the clothes line.

	Hunkering down in the tall grass next to a huge pile of cement rubble, the two butt naked well cooked kids waited.  And waited.  And waited some more.  Then they waited some more before finally the heat of the day prompted them to risk exposure and getting into serious trouble.  Holding hands they broke and ran across the small dirt road to the fence then thru the middle and hustled to the old tool shed.
	Luck was with them—the back door was unlocked.  Scurrying inside the kids were relieved that they were out of the intense sun.  With a sigh they slumped to the cement floor finding some relief there as it was cool.
	“I guess we made it.” breathed Brianna.
	“Looks like.” Boyd managed to say.
	After a few minutes of cooling down they began searching for something to cover their nakedness.
	No such luck there.
	“Damn.” Boyd bitched.
	From the grimy encrusted side window Brianna noted again the clothes on the line; some where even hers.  From the backdoor she stood lingering going over in her mind how she would explain herself being naked in the backyard (with a naked boy in the tool shed!)
	Probably wouldn’t go over well.  Taking the risk, though, Brianna dashed to the clothesline grabbing some clothes and then dashing back tripping over a shovel.  Boyd was right there almost catching her before she fell—but didn’t.  The fall hurt hurt—knees, chin, elbow, and hands.
	“Son-of-a-bitch!” she bitched.
	“Man, you been hangin’ around me too much.” Boyd giggled.
	“What?”
	“Yer cussin’.” he told her.  “You’d better watch it around your grandfolks, they don’t cotton to that shit and you’ll get the switch after you at one end,”
	“And soap on the other, I know, I know.”
	Standing her up, Boyd checked her over, brushed her off than assessed what she had managed to grab.
	Two pants and a shirt.
	The pants were, of course, hers.
	And naturally they didn’t fit him in no way.
	“Let me go in and check in at least.” She slipped on her jean shorts and top, fussed with her hair, then asked,
	“How do I look?”
	Boyd smiled, “You look good to me, babe!”

	Inside the house it was way cooler, three swamp coolers were in action and though they weren’t the best for Midwest heat conditions, it was better than nothing.  The kitchen was cool, blinds and curtains drawn to help keep cool in and heat out.  It was noted that her Grandpa’s truck was not in the drive—so it was possible he and Granny were out.
	Then she heard the tv.
	Checking the clock on the wall it was afternoon tv talk show time.  Granny never missed her favorite talk show.  Brianna sighed and crept from the kitchen to the hallway.  To the left was a walk-in pantry and the stairs down to the cellar.  To the right was a short hall to the bathroom and laundry room.  Straight ahead was the living room were 70 year old Granny sat in her granny-chair watching her afternoon talk show.  The stairs to the second floor were right off from the transition hallway.
	Ever mindful of the  ninth, sixth, and fifth steps of the old wooden stairs Brianna slinked her way up and then hugged the wall minding the creaking old floorboards in the middle of the hallway to her bedroom.  Once inside she nearly collapsed.  In fact, she did.  The experience of the day had been trying—if not frightening.  She didn’t know the boys at the river but knew that if she and Boyd had been caught by them no telling what would have happened but it would not have been good.
	But still, what happened to them bothered her.
	Into the bathroom she went—to pee and wash her face, then she returned to her bedroom fetching some pants at least she thought (and hoped) would fit her beau.  Then it was back down the stairs minding the fifth, six, ninth steps that were extra squeaky.  When at the bottom of stairs making way into the kitchen,
	“There’s laundry on the line you can bring in.”
	“Ok, Grandma.” Brianna said.  Couldn’t put much passed that old gal.  Brianna waited a moment to see if there was more; checking the clock she knew she had about twenty minutes before evening news.  Granny would watch a bit of news and then start supper.  Grandpa was in town at the local watering hole.
	Out the backdoor and to the tool shed—
	The pants didn’t fit.
	“If you didn’t have that (indicating Boyd’s weeny and attached testicles) they’d fit perfectly.”  Boyd frowned and fretted, “what now?”
	“Well, it’s too far to make for your house (in broad daylight), we’ll just have to wait until dark.”  Boyd’s home was WAY down the street with no cover, no back roads to use, no way to scurry without being seen.
	Brianna grabbed the wicker basket and made for the clothesline.

	When done collecting all the clothes she went to the backdoor and hurried her naked friend inside.  
	“Put the basket in the laundry room, dear, I”ll get to it in a bit.”
	“Right, Granny.” Brianna said—and hustled to the laundry room placing the basket on the counter leaving her naked friend naked in the kitchen.
	At the threshold to the living room Brianna paused to one side somewhat blocking Boyd’s presence as he made for the stairs.
	“Anything else I can do for you, Granny?” Brianna said politely.
	“No thank you, hon, not right now.” She was deeply involved in her talk show.  “But you can help with supper in a bit.”
	“Yes, Granny.”
	Boyd hauled ass up the stairs—not minding the ninth, sixth, or fifth, steps.  Brianna frowned and followed suit.
	“I gotta pee!” Boyd announced—which gave Brianna cause to wonder “why didn’t you pee when you were outside!?”
	In the bathroom Boyd peed, with Brianna at the open door making sure no one came up.  After the pee the boy hung his head in the washbasin drenching himself in cool refreshing water.
	“I need a shower.” he announced.
	That was risky, too risky.
	“Not right now.”
	Boyd relented and was taken by the hand to Brianna’s room.
	Boyd had never been in Brianna’s bedroom before—it wasn’t allowed.  The girl was into yellow—or the theme of the room was yellow before her Summer arrival.  On the twin size bed, though, was a teddy bear—wearing a yellow dress.  Paintings on the wall were of yellow daises.  The bedding on the bed—yellow.
	After the “tour” Brianna scrounged around trying to find her naked beau some clothes.  But girl clothes just didn’t fit a “boy.”  
	“I saw this movie once,” she said helpfully, “where I could wrap you up in a sheet.”
	Boyd considered it but thought against it in the end; the town was redneck but not into KKK thing and no one was afraid of ghosts or believed in them—and if they SAW a ghost they’d chase after and beat the shit out of it then call the media to come have a look at it.
	“I’ll just hang out here with you, babe!” Boyd said smilingly.
	And although Brianna thought that that wouldn’t be all that bad, her Grandparents might think otherwise.  Eventually he would be found out.

 	Boyd flopped onto the bed—making it squeak as he bounced.  The girl gave him such a look.  ‘DON’T DO THAT!’  
	The boy looked dejected and lay with his hands behind his back, one leg dangling off the side of the bed.
	“Wonder where Fat—Angus and Autumn girl are?”
	“Maybe they got lost?”
	Boyd didn’t think so.
	Suddenly, the fifth, sixth and ninth steps of the stairs where heard.
	“Shit, she’s coming!” Brianna bitched hard.
	Boyd flew up from the bed totally frightened—like the poor boy who died of fright when the train whizzed by him.
	“CLOSET!” almost yelled Brianna.
	Boyd had gone to the open window but it was a hell of a drop…
	The door flew open just as Brianna closed the closet door.
	“What’s going on here?” Granny said knowing “something” was going on.
	“Just putting away laundry and stuff.”
	“I heard voices.” The old nosey woman said.
	Brianna put on a face of wonderment, “I was just talking to Mr. Mistofoles.”
	“You’re getting to old for that nonsense.”
	“Yes, M’am.”
	Then,
	“Did you put away your laundry or just dump on the floor?” and with that the wise old lady whisked open the closet doors.  Brianna was in a real fright and quickly tried to conjure up a response to why there was a naked boy in her closet.
	But there was no “naked boy” in the closet.  Granny seemed miffed and after straightening some things hanging closed the door.  She seemed confused and then apologetic, 
	“I’m sorry, dear, I know you are a good girl and still just a child.” She offered a meager smile and left the room without another word leaving Brianna still in a confused state of being.
	For a minute or so she just stood there—then she made for the closet and whisked open the doors herself.  There was a need for a light in the closet but there was no light.
	“Are you here?”
	From a small mound of clothes and assorted crap in the darkened corner—
	“Yep, I are!”

	There was nothing to do but wait—for darkness.
	Well, there WAS something to do—but they had to be quiet about it.
	Right there in the closet, Brianna and her beau did the nasty.  It was oh so risky!  Brianna stripped off her clothes (again) and mounted her studly lover.  There was a board in the closet they made squeak but they got into the groove and humped a good hump.  Thereafter, they kinda sorta fell asleep!  It was a little warm (in the closet) and Brianna only awoke when she heard the creaky ole boards in the hallway.
	It wasn’t her Granny, though; but Grandpa.  He wouldn’t barge in on her, though—he had done that once right when she was changing clothes and vowed never to do it again.  The old man had just come in from town and made for the bathroom first, then to his bedroom.
	Wiping the sleep from her eyes she slipped out of the closet and checked the time.
	“I’ve gotta get to the kitchen and help out.” 
	Boyd sighed, “Whattya having?”
	“Not sure, cornbread for sure, though.”  It was a staple food and most always on the table.
	“Bring me some, I’m starvin’!”
	Brianna promised and fled the room—after putting on some clothes.

*

oh, that’s just not right
	His cock ached.  OH how it ached!  But it was for a good cause.  After pulling out of Debra and suckling on her breasts he virtually crawled to the hall bathroom where Dawn and Stephanie still laid out as they were.  Logan went right to little Stephanie and began licking on her young cunt.  He knew she was young and “putting it to her” would be more than wrong—but he wanted to.  
	What he did, though, in lieu of sinking his aching prong directly into her bald beaver was lay his steaming prick against the girl’s soft sex and enjoy humping her there.
	That was then he noticed the flickering lights on his electronic device.
	“Oh, shit!”
	that wasn’t good.
	Dawn was moving, moaning, fluttering her eyes; Stephanie was crying!  Debra, on the kitchen floor, was moaning and flailing her head.  this was not good—no, not good at all.  Logan was panicking.

	‘if what you’re doing goes wrong,’ said the guy whom Logan received the mind altering device, ‘use the red button.’
	“What’s the “red button” for?”
	‘emergency use only.’  It gave the User a few minutes to set things right—or get the hell away.
	It was a bit of a chore and he had to be real damn careful with Dawn and Stephanie beginning to “come around” but he dragged them out of the bathroom to be near their Mom so when he utilized the Emergency procedure they would all be together—the emergency button was a one time thing only.  Stored energy and every other available bit of power was used to overwhelm the “awakening” mind of the Subject(s).  One shot, one time.
	“How much time?” Logan had inquired.
	‘that depends, on the unit, how much it’s been used, the subjects.’
	Could be five minutes, or five seconds.
	Squatting down and lining up the infer-red sensors at the top of the unit to the heads of the Subjects, Logan fretted.  He knew (after the fact) that his DNA was IN Debra and Dawn.  No matter how much cleaning them outside, his cum was IN their pussies.  If they should get pregnant and they didn’t know who or how or whatever, and weren’t into the thought of “immaculate conception” then a search of the culprit would begin.  No matter how nice Logan was or thought of—he would be a suspect.  Lots of boys, men Debra knew, virtually everyone in town who had a swinging cock would be tested.
	Debra moaned, slung her head and raised her head.
	Dawn said something unintelligible but said something just the same.
	Stephanie was crying.
	Logan pressed the Red Button.

	He never noticed the very small “clock” in the corner of the LCD screen.  Had it been there before?  Curious.  It looked like a normal kitchen clock without the numbers or the time hands, just a sweeping second hand.  The “face” of the clock was green, as the second hand sweeped it left a white field behind it.
	Logan did know—and wasn’t sure that he wanted to.  He munched on a cinnamon cookie and marveled a moment at the three family members on the floor.
	Then the phone rang.  Noting the time on the stove clock—they were supposed to be somewhere else.  Logan once more hauled the girls down the hall and into then into the bathroom.  
	There wasn’t time but Logan couldn’t help himself—he humped again little Stephanie spilling his seed all over her delicate poon.  He knew he was a dog, an immoral dog but the girl was some fucking pretty.  A “shiver” ravaged his body and he humped on the girl until he could hump no more.
	Then he laid on Dawn, noted the clock on the EMAD and loved on her all the time the second hand “sweeped” around the mini clock one time.  Then there was of note the white field previously seen turned yellow.
	Logan guessed the next time “around” the field would be red and when the second hand came to the Twelve O’clock position—time would be up.
	Once more and Logan cleaned the girls off; then he dressed them and returned them to their original positions—Dawn on the toilet and Stephanie before her with her clothes at her ankles.  Logan wanted to jump in the shower—his cock ached!	
	In the kitchen he put Debra back where she had been and he oh-so wanted to love on her.  It would have to wait, though—the mini clock on the EMAD display began to pulse red.
	Debra had a runny nose; she slung her head and stumbled a bit muttering, “What the fu--” but didn’t finish.
	“You alright, Ms. Omassman?” Logan asked.
	Debra Omassman looked to Logan strangely, then recovered, farted, and seemed at a slight loss.
	“Uhm, ahem,” Logan said clearing his throat, “we’re gonna be late.”
	He tapped his watch, nodded his head, and tried to look as innocent as possible.
	“Oh my God!” the woman who had a nice tight cunt said, “Where are the girls?”
	“Bathroom.” Logan said shaking his head, ‘girls are always in the bathroom.’  They either had bowel problems—or maybe there was something else going on?
	The “girls” came out of the bathroom—they looked confused and weren’t too sure of what was going on.  Their Mother got onto them,
	“You’ve been fooling around in that bathroom and now we’re late!”
	Dawn looked to her little sister, “She-she had to go.”
	Debra squatted down and took Stephanie’s hands, “You’re getting to be a big girl, now; you can “go” by yourself!”
	And with that the group grabbed plates of cookies, covered them, and hurried off to the party.  Logan’s cock still ache but he had a fix for that…

	“Wow.”
	“Yep.”
	“What IS that thing?”
	“It’s called an EMAD.”
	“What the hell’s that?”
	“You haven’t heard of an EMAD?”
	brief pause; then, “Oh, yeah—haha, sure I have!” liar
	“It’s short for Electronic Mind Altering Device.  An electronic mind controller.”
	“I thought he was a nice boy.”
	“He is, just a horny one.”
	Autumn knew Logan Masters, she knew Dawn and Stephanie, too.  
	“Aren’t those things illegal?”
	“Yep, just like AKs, downloading music, and moonshine!”
	“Come on,” Angus said cheerfully, “let’s hit the malt shoppe, I’m hungry!” and he had money to spend before “hitting the road.”
	“Aren’t we like supposed to be somewhere else meeting someone?”
	“Yeah, right after my burger deluxe.  We’ve kinda of gotten side tracked.”
	“No shit.”  Autumn been hanging around the boys too much, too.
	Logan Masters, though, wasn’t the only one to have an “illegal” mind altering device.