August Moone
Book 9
Chapter 3
And the Saga Continues
Nostalgia isn’t what it used to be

When tempted to fight fire with fire, remember that the Fire Department usually uses water
	Days of work in the swelter warehouse was supposedly good for him—‘builds character’ or some shit logic like that he heard the old people say.  Days hanging with his parents, mostly his Dad—fishing, ballgames, golfing, that sort.  Days of just “hanging loose”; no electronic mind altering device in use whatsoever.  He came to understand that WITH such a Device—wow!  He could be a hell of a bank robber, a spy, a really good thief, and assassin.  The EAMDs were an epidemic and world wide spread.  New minding devices were on the market every day—and new ways to detect and defeat were always a day behind.
	Dim thought it good to let his lay off-line for awhile, give his dick a break anyways.  He did, though, miss “spying”; he found that venture just as pleasing as overtaking someone’s mind.  However, unlike his friend, his psychopathic friend Seth Strangle, Dim did not fault the family being spied on for their naughty ones and thusly condemn them.  Seth had some sort of weird hangup that if the family being spied on was already engaged in some sort of sexual deviancy—then they deserved strangling.
	Weird.
	Dim, though, didn’t go that route—thankfully.  In the morning news one day there was the latest statistic to be chalked up to The Strangler! the Bliss family.  Seth’s bizarre doings gave the investigators fits—there was evidence of misdoings by family members, BUT—was that the doings on their own will or by mind altering means?
	
	After slaving the day away sweltering in the warehouse, some of his blokes were off to various parties, bar hoping, goofing off in park or at the river.  Dim was interested.  It was pause for reflection—or something.  He needed to wind down and with a large ice cold soda he sat on the far dock of the warehouse where it was dark and cool.  The hour was late, near 11PM.  The air was filled with the heavy scent of potatoes; the noises of the warehouse had come to a stop allowing Mother Nature to prevail—and the Westbound locomotive.

	He wasn’t bummed—or even glummed; he couldn’t put his finger on it.  Just out of sorts.  The doings of The Strangler! seemed prevalent in his mind.  Maybe that was it.  The entire Bliss family!  Wow.  But then there were a hundred and then some others he was responsible for, too.  Whole families, lone teens, little kids.  Seth Strangle had no morals.
	Dmitri Tsugua wasn’t far behind.
	It was a little after midnight when Dim decided to head for home—although there was really little point, work began again promptly at 7AM.  He seemed keyed up, too.  He figured his buddies would still be at the pizzeria; maybe he’d join them.  A few slices of pizza, some soda, then sleep in his car until work time—seemed like a good idea.
	As stated, it was “a little after midnight” at as he pulled his car (not the van or non-company company van) into the lot where the pizzeria was (along with a 24hr grocery store, pet store, jewelry, loan, car parts, Laundromat, and ex cetera) there was a bus stop by the Chinese fast food place (which was closed) the lights of his ride blasted onto the bus stop and onto a lone girl sitting there.   The lot was basically empty; the only two places open were the grocery store and the pizzeria.
	A lone girl.
	Dim patted his trusty EMAD—then thought; ‘could she be a set-up?’
	There was a lot of that going around—decoys, girls, teens, young adults who looked like young girls.  EMAD detectors were getting better, so were preventors.  There, too, were other deterrents…
	With a sigh, though, Dim pulled up alongside the bus stop; the girl inside the covered building sat with a “mad face”, arms folded across her chest, and about twelve years young or so.
	She sat staring straight ahead.
	The lot was one whereas the main road in front went up a slight hill; on the other side was a very large housing area, a HUGE towering water tower, and then the junior college facility just beyond that.  The lot had a few entrances; some were on level terrain by-roads; one entrance off the main road was almost level with the flattened lot but the entrance Dim was on was on a “bump”.
	The girl gave no indication of Dim’s presence.  He sat still for a moment “a pizza sure would be good right now—and a big pitcher of Coke!”  but—
	‘get in.’
	The indicators on the EMAD face showed he had her brain wave patterns; everything was “green” across the board, with one faltering indicator flickering yellow and even red!  That was a result of the young girl’s being pissed off.
	‘get—in’ Dim resent his desire.

	The girl shrugged her left shoulder, changed her facial expression to that of one being curious or hearing something not sure of hearing—like your name being called but you’re not sure it was your name or the wind or whatever.  Her arms came down, mouth opened a bit, tongue licking her lips, and an even more facial change.
	‘GET IN!’
	And Shelly Birdsong “got in.”

*

Did you know?  A cat’s urine glows under black light?
(I’m wondering how much the Government pissed away to figure that out!)
	There was the park, behind the pizzeria (convenient), behind the car lot up on the hill, behind the gas station, under that tower water tower, the parking lot of the junior college, or at the warehouse.
	Warehouse it is!
	Close to work for one thing.
	Also more private—way more.  The warehouse was some miles out of town situated in a small—small rural town with a dozen or so other agri-business type warehouses.  Huge orchards and farmlands were all around; potatoes, tomatoes, alfalfa; peaches, almonds, oranges, and walnuts mostly and mainly.  A major freeway was off to one side, too.
	The little town, Sonofed, had two bars, one convenient store, fire department, a grade school, post office, two trailer parks, and the ever present smell of something disgusting hanging lifeless in the air; the refuse of warehouse by-products, the sumps, and diesel fumes.  Pleasant little town.  Dim’s warehouse was the very last one—if your were going eastbound on the one road thru Sonofed.
	The railroad ran alongside the warehouses; the various orchards were just beyond.  All was quiet, dark, creepy.  The drunks had all scurried home and at a little before 1AM Dmitri Tsugua motored behind his warehouse where stacks of pallets were—stacked.
	‘what’s the problem?’ Dim asked as they made the ten minute ride from the bus stop to the warehouse.
	“They forgot my birthday!” she said with firm lips and crossed arms.
	Ah.
	Shelly had not one but two sets of twins—and they were a handful.  Boys, too.  One set was six years old while the other was four years old.  It had been Shelly’s birthday—and no one remembered.  There was an older sister, too—she was fifteen.  (last month—no one forgot HER birthday—it was a big day for her and she got lots of stuff.)
	So Shelly fumed.
	And fumed.
	And got pissed.
	She had anticipated a “surprise” party—but it never happened.  She was in a nice skirt/dress outfit, too.  There was more pissed offedness than hurt—but there was hurt there, too.  She was twelve.  Right on the verge of being a teenager.  At school she got good grades—not “A’s” like big sister but she got a few of them.
	‘how long were you sitting there?’
	Shelly shrugged.
	The last bus time was the “1234-A West Hills Mall/Downtown” coming along at 9:35.  She could have been sitting there a damn long time.  Being pissed off can really warp your world.  (so can an electronic device!)
	She wore good clothes, had a finger ring, earrings, watch.  She was clean, smelled good, nice small palm sized breasts, shoulder length brown hair—an all around nice looking kid.
	‘take your panties down.’
	Shelly paused a moment, made a face “what?” then her hands obeyed and worked her panties down from under her knee length powder blue skirt.
	‘scoot your butt forward—to the edge of the seat.’
	Compliance!
	Dim caressed her thighs then had her place her feet up on the headboard.  Her panties helped keep her ankles locked and Dim fingered her delicious little virgin pussy.  Shelly stared blankly unawares of the goings on with her body.  Dim fingered her more and more working her pussy to juice.
	Soon (very) and the young birthday girl was in the backseat of Dim’s ride, naked.  Her skirt outfit on the floorboard, her legs splayed open, and a naked Dmitri Tsugua was DEEPLY in her sex.  She was a virgin; she was aware of what boys looked like naked—she had younger brothers but also had seen boys her age peeing AND pleasing themselves.  She wasn’t sure what that was about but they seemed to like it—a lot!
	Mildly and was Shelly aware of her cunny and how to please it.
	Mildly and was Shelly aware of sex, some sex acts, and not much else.
	Dim rode the girl, she grunted, groaned, and remained mindless.  Dim fondled her breasts and felt the sudden release of his seminal fluids.  The release was fucking fantastic!  He had been pent up for awhile and the surge of manly juices was very welcomed.
	Cupping her ass, Dim power slammed his cock into her crevice delivering a gracious quantity of his personal love (in liquid form.)  Then he pulled out and humped her gash while nuzzling her young preteen breasts.  There was just enough strength in his cock to plunge up her ass, too.
Men have two emotions:  Hungry and Horny; if you see him without an erection, make him a sandwich.
	One potato, two potato, three potato—four!  A sack of spuds spilled onto the floor causing havoc to an already exhausting day.  Dim began to chuck the spuds—some even made it into the sack he had hung on the hook on the warehouse metal shelf.  His mealy mouth supervisor saw him and marched over bitchin’—
	“If you aint going to work right go the fuck home!” he was twenty-one and just out of college.  Dim didn’t like him and it showed.
	“You know, you’re gonna look awfully funny with you’re legs sticking up out of that bag.” he said in all seriousness.  The two had had run-ins before with Wayne Kurdswheywhat blowing his cool and yelling while Dmitri was calm and passive.  But unlike Wayne, Dim had in (good) with the Boss and was on the Never Get Fired/Canned or Let Go List.  Wayne was the son of another Boss but that didn’t bother Dmitri.
	Dim was, though, having about enough of Wayne’s shit.
	Wisely and did Wayne “walk away.”  Good thing, ‘cause he WOULD have looked funny plunged head first into the burlap bag with his legs sticking out.  Dim tossed the rest of the spillage into the bag, sewed it up, put it up, and went merrily on his way.
	Still pent up with some aggression, Dim sauntered to the other end of the agri-building, it was running potatoes—which was its usual business but also stored in its massive warehouse carrots, peaches, and other assorted or agricultural related food stuffs.  There were the Front End crew who sewed the potato sacks, the ladies on the line who sorted the spuds, the Bulls who ran five—one hundred pound sacks ea. on hand trucks into the awaiting train cars; and way in the back opposite the warehouse the boxes.  The potatoes came to market in one hundred pound sacks, fifty pound sacks, ten pound sacks.  They also came in boxes, fifty pounds.  The boxes were stacked on pallets then loaded via forklift into the train cars.  Spuds were scattered everywhere.  Beyond the box area was another warehouse addition for the smaller bag industry, then the sump, pallet and other assorted warehouse paraphernalia.
	And a loading dock.
	There were two loading docks; one was up front by the warehouse and offices.  The second was in the box area where the trucks got loaded not with sacks of spuds but boxes of spuds.  Dmitri was already in a not-so-good-don’t-fuck-with-me attitude when a trucker who had just backed in ambled up onto the cement dock and lumbered largely toward Dmitri.
	“This ‘ere the potato shed?” the man asked.

	Dim looked at the man, “No, oranges.” he said.  The man said, “Oh, ok.” And turned about, down the dock stairs, into his truck, and left leaving Dmitri to stare at him—‘and this fucker is allowed to reproduce!”  There were spuds everywhere on the ground, the air was soiled with the stench of washed and unwashed potatoes, BIG signs were on the warehouse walls inside and out “KURDSWHEYWHAT POTATOES”.
	Twenty minutes later and the truck was back; Dim was busy slinging boxes of potatoes onto a pallet when the truck driver walked by giving Dim a glare.  Dim merely smiled and held up a brown russet potato, “Here, have an orange!”

	When lunch type time rolled around Dim and his buddies usually stole a nap, moseyed down to the crappy convenience store for a snack, got something off the roach coach, or something.  Dim stole a brief nap in one of the cold cars—train cars with never-ending refrigeration to keep the produce cold.  
	Brief nap ‘cause not more than five minutes into the nap on top of the stacked bags of spuds in came Wayne K disturbing him.
	“Hey, we got a train car overloaded at the yard.”
	“I’m happy for you.”
	“You and a couple of flunkies going down there and unload some spuds to make the load right.”
	“Fuck you, you do it!” Dim said without moving his arm from being draped over his eyes.
	“I’m you Goddamn boss!” shouted Wayne.
	“You’re my Goddamn ass!” Dim retorted.
	“Do it or you’re fired!” threatened Wayne.
	Dim sat up sighing.  “You know what, Dick Breath?  I’ve had enough of you.” 
	Wayne K standing in his white shirt, tie, black slacks, short hair cut “just right”, reeking of cheap cologne, holding clipboard ensuring his importance in the company, slung his head and looked like he was about to throw up.
	‘take off your clothes, dick breath.’
	Wayne slung his head some more, retched, then went very still.
	Slowly—slowly—s-l-o-w-l-y the twenty something college smart ass pushed down his knit slacks and removed his tie, shirt, undershirt, and then his undies to become naked.
	‘alright, faggot, up here on the sacks.’
	Wayne crawled up onto the cold sacks, laid down, and was fondled—fondled—fondled all over, then spanked.  Dim had much more install for the boy, though—and after taking his own pants down he had the smart ass college boy suck him.  He had sucked dick before—
	Dim didn’t pry too much, he was bothered by being bothered and vented his disturbed behavior on the disturbing.  Wayne had slurped schlong of a guy who was his best friend—experimental type thing when they were teenagers.  Not butt play, though.  No kissing, no ass grabbing, or ball washing—just sucking.
	After Wayne had sucked Dim to a serious hard state of being—
	‘turn over, spread your cheeks!’	
	Dim’s cock was still sore from the screwing righteously of Shelly Birdsong just hour prior.  Twice in the pussy, once between her titties anointing her pretty face with his love cream and then once up the ass before “dropping her off” at a nearby hospital (well, it wasn’t “near”) but close.
	Wayne had a virgin asshole.
	Not anymore.
	A little spittle and some precum lubed up the hole nicely—well, sufficiently so as Dim’s determined cock could breach the rim and drive inward DEEPLY!  It was both rough for the both of them—and of course, any minute one of the Bulls or anyone else could just waltz in the great open doors of the car—but it was on the second track askew of the dock kind of out of sight.
	It took five minutes before Dim got his nuts off and creamed Wayne’s hole.
	To say the least he was exhausted.
	There wasn’t much time—lunch was just about over.
	Time for a potato!
	Digging around the cold sacks, Dim found the right sized spud—to jam up his mini Boss’ fresh fucked asshole.  It took some doing, a second fucking, and some unnatural shoving to make the uncomfortable procedure.  Then Dim noted the man with an erection.  ‘no use wasting it!’ and Dim settled on it getting fucked in the ass himself!
	A nice dirty dick he would have to explain to himself.  Dim smiled and got the man dressed, fucked with his mind about the sordid event and the coming into the car to disturb Dim; he (Wayne) would seek other company flunkies to go to the train yard to get the train car weight right.
	Dim went back to sleep—and slept for another hour!

*

	It wasn’t a “mean streak” but more along the lines of “just fucking because”.  And also perhaps a little of Seth Strangle’s mentality reasoning of why he did what he did to families—they were morally unjust and therefore his strangling of them was justified.  To save the children, or child; collateral damage was the acceptable justification.

	From the warehouse there were as many as four ways to get home; the freeway and then three other ways thru town.  Dim often chose the freeway, it was the quickest way—not always, but usually.  The trek along the railroad out of Sonofed was one way and led to the other ways home, too.
	At a little after 5:30 that day—a breakdown and a truck late sent the warehouse crew home.  Dim was cool with that.  (and he hadn’t seen Wayne K all day!  Probably in the bathroom trying to poop out that potato!)
	At the 4-way stop at Sonofed Way; a distribution center was to one side, a gas station on the corner, a bar across the street, a truck stop next to it; then the railroad tracks.  Across the tracks a nursery, a small crappy convenience store (non-national type) and then low income housing—mixed rednecks with Mexicans and a few African-Americans.
	That particular route (the nursery/redneck area) went several blocks to another major roadway that was an indirect route home but went along different housing and business areas.  It was a pretty good route, a few lights but at the right time of day they could be negotiated well enough.
	Just passed the nursery and the stucco green 50 year old corner store walking along the broken sidewalk that was part sidewalk part dirt right up against the road was a little girl.  There were HUGE mulberry trees and an odd assortment of bushes and shrubs; some of the rundown homes had fences, brick and stone along with chain link and wrought iron.  Cars were in some yards, engine blocks and tire stacks, too.
	The little girl wore short shorts, a blue top, and seemed none the worrier about being alone.  She could be a set-up, too.  Dim slowed; the little girl swung her arms, picked her panties out of her ass, and was oblivious to Dim’s coming.
	(what’s the definition of redneck foreplay?  “Get in the truck, bitch!”)
	Some blocks down at the main road; orange orchard on one side, large open field on the other; a turn onto Longway Rd. and past the small Baptist church Dim took a small road that wound its way this way and that thru rolling back hills and the backdrop of his town up to the Bluffs that overlooked the river and the oilfields.  The junior college was close by, too.
	‘take your shorts down.’
	Little Wendy Ropemyass, eight years young, paused a moment then pushed her short blue shorts down—followed by her underwear.  Dim slipped off her blue top to render her naked.  His cock ached—it had been up Wayne’s ass and in Shelly’s orifices and still ached (yearned) for me.
	Taking the little girl’s hands he had her play with his cock.  That was while in the front seat.  In the back seat he had her lay on him.   Serious cuddling, lots of fondling, heavy petting.  His aching smoldering cock went up against her innocent crevice and with his hands on her hips he grinded her against him.
	This went on until there were voices heard—specifically “radio” noises from a police radio.
	Ut-oh, rabbit!
	For a moment he held fast, then; slowly with great care he moved the naked Wendy to the floorboard and rendered himself “invisible.” With having only the little girl’s mind to overwhelm there were sufficient power for the EMAD to warp the air around Dim’s personal space to make him “unseen.”
	Outside, just ten meters away stood two roving private security guards having a smoke.  Two men, one tall, one fat.  It wasn’t too dark yet, being summer type time; Dim’s ride was parked just behind a row of oleander bushes but if the two guards strolled any closer or made rounds to the water tower—then they would surely see his muscle car and take interest.
	Dim patted Wendy’s ass and waited.
	The oppressive heat was beginning to become a bother; Dim’s stomach growled, he needed a bath, and some sleep.  The guards stood smoking and yapping; the fat one turned to whip his dick out and piss on a bush.  
	Eventually, though, the two men wandered off.
	Dim sighed and waited until they were off the parking lot and down the sidewalk of one of the college’s buildings—that way when he fired up his muscle car the noise of the bitchin’ engine wouldn’t alert them—until he was off the lot himself and down the road.

I always take life with a grain of salt; plus a slice of lemon, and a shot of tequila
	Timing is everything
	There wasn’t enough Dmitri’s to go around!
	Work.  Home.  Social life.  Private life 1 & 2.
	Not much was done with little Wendy; after the parking lot/guard incident Dim tooled down from the Bluffs into Oilville, a small redneck town by the river and oilfields.  Not a bad town, there was a mix of lots of peoples; blacks, Mexicans, Asians, and “other.”  Mostly, though, rednecks.  And bikers.  Like with most cities and towns, there were “sections” and most folks knew what sections they were comfortable with and what sections to stay the hell away from.
	Dim sashayed down the middle of Oilville to one of the many fast food places and parked on the lower parking area down by the dumpster.  There he completed his naughty doings with Wendy, no penetration but a hell of a lot of rubbing, humping, and spilling of seed.
	Afterwards a light spanking, anal gouging, having her suck his balls, then he lay her on top of him whereas her back was on his chest and there he commenced to fingering her pussy like crazy.
	Then he booted her out of the car sending her thru the thick oleander bushes surrounding the fast food lot into the next lot that was a used car lot.  Dim then dressed and moved to the fast food joint to eat, call his parents, check the work schedule, call a friend, his girlfriend, etc.
	Meanwhile, two lone dirt bags found the naked wandering dazed little Wendy and THEY had their way with her.  Unfortunately for them, though, she was no longer under the influence of an EMAD and after the boys had raped and sodomized her they giggled and wiggled and were in the throws of enjoying themselves when the cops showed up.  The boys, 14 yrs young, had been flattening tires, bashing windows, poking holes in radiators, peeing into the gas tanks, and making mischievous mayhem—setting off a silent alarm in the process.
	The deputy sheriffs arrested the boys—after beating the shit out of them, rescued the little girl and whisked her away to the hospital.  It was big news and stirred up quite a ruckus—which annoyed Dmitri.  He completed his socializing and his meal, got a large drink to go and scurried on his way.

“I-24—I-24!  O-70—O-70!  B-7—B-7!”
	The sun was going down, a few hours before return to work; Dim casually wondered if Wayne had pooped out that potato.   Taking the main road thru the middle of Oilville, Dim motored north to another road that eventually taking the long scenic route for no other reason than “just because” (again) he came across a teenage girl at a bus stop.	
	Dim rolled up, powered down the passenger window,
	“Buses aren’t running this late out here.” he said.
	The girl looked ashen; but there were also mixed emotions.  She looked to the bus schedule plastered on the inside of the enclosure.
	“Read the “B” line, Saturday run times.”
	The read the “B” line, Saturday run times—and was dejected.
	“Shit.” she said.  She was having a bad day.
	“Where were you going?”
	“Sommerset Village.”
	“Long walk.” Dim stated.
	The girl looked broken.
	‘get in.’
	The girl made way into Dim’s ride.
	Dim was on a roll.

	‘having a bad day?’ Dim surmised.
	“Yes.”
	Her name was Christine, Christine Beeseven.
	And she had farted—in class.
	While giving a speech from her essay on estuaries she ripped a butt blast.
	And everyone heard it. 
	Not her finest moment.
	‘are you a virgin?’
	“No.” she answered; she made a curious face, cocked her head, but otherwise remained still and quiet.
	Dim smiled.  then,
	‘undo your pants.’

	Just off Zuckzuck Rd. on the other side of an abandoned county dump and cement plant and down in a small valley Chrissy Beeseven lay out on the ground beside Dmitri’s muscle car, naked.  Dmitri delighted in eating out her thirteen year old pussy; it was neatly trimmed and not well fucked.  Only a light prying had Dim done to her mind—divulging her naughty side.  She was a star pitcher for her school’s softball team, and gave excellent head to her boyfriend.
	She was having occasional sex with a young boy she babysat for, he was eight and got yelled at by his parents a lot—plus beaten.  So Chrissy felt sorry for him and sex seemed to be “just the thing!” to cheer a young boy up.
	Dim slid onto the girl and guided into her his love tool.  Other than sucking her boyfriend’s cock, whacking him off, and letting him “do her up the butt” once in awhile, she spread her legs for him, too.  So far, five times.  With the little boy, Jake, also five times.  Thomas, though, had his cock wrapped—but not always.
	Dim’s cock wasn’t wrapped; just hard and horny.
	After releasing his love; he lay against her letting Nature’s cool late evening air soothe him.  His cock being revitalized and definitely satiated oozed cum onto the girl’s thigh.  He fingered her super moist cunt, sucked on her teenage titties, and very muchly was pleased with the day’s events (and his wondrous mind altering device.)

*

	He coulda-woulda-shoulda done Chrissy “up the butt” but didn’t.  (maybe he was afraid she’d fart on his dick!) Instead, he took her home—her home, dropping her off two houses down from her house and then watched as she “came around”, looked around, then made way home hours late.  He then realized she was going to be in LOADs of trouble with no real good excuse.
	The door of the very nice two-story home literally flew open and two irate parental units stood there.  “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?” they were concerned and pissed off.  It was not like Chrissy to be so late—so they were worried that she had been kidnapped by some perv with an EMAD.
	Chrissy was a little dazed still which gave cause for the mother to believe something tragic had indeed happened to her daughter.  The dad remained at the door pushing back younger siblings.
	Chrissy explained that the last thing she remembered was being at the bus stop.  Her mother closed her eyes firmly believing that her child had been abducted and had probably been raped then had her mind erased of the incident.  There was a lot of that going around.  Perverts be damned!
	The girl was ushered inside, the door shut, Dim left in quandary.  The woman WAS a nice looking thing, he didn’t want any undue toil on Chrissy, the little sister of Chrissy was nice…
	Dim motored home checking in just a little before midnight.

	The next day—
	All day and no sign of “potato-in-his-ass-boy”; Dim didn’t ask, either.
	At the afternoon break as Dim made his way to the ever popular roach coach (snack truck), Dim’s Boss took him by the elbow off to one side.
	“That last batch of drink went over well,” grinned the burly Boss, “think you can supply me with another case?”
	Dim smiled, “Can do!” and the Boss palmed him a small wad of cash.
	There was no working till the late evening hours—not for Dim (although he’d still get paid for such time!)  He made for nearby Boone County of the Tri-County area and Jeb Harlen, local moonshiner.

	Boone County, part of the tri-county area with Stanis Country to the east north of the industrial city, Quarkton.  There was the Suskanna River where twice a day a massive locomotive known as Dark Thunder roared thru the landscape.  A couple of other rivers, Bald Deer River was one; Burrelwood was one of the larger towns, then Northvalley in nearby Sucalotta County.  Knob Hill was the biggest hill in the area in an otherwise predominantly flat landcape.
	The other notable makeup for the area was the horse farms, the abandoned train station in the woods known locally as Whistle Stop (anything sound familiar?  You’ll have to go back to Book 7, Chapter 36 to refresh your memory).  There, too, was Gobole Farm where two miscreant boys, Angus and Harley, let loose the farmer’s prize pigs to go romp in the cornfield.
	Then there was Jeb Harlen.  Farmer, wild hog hunter, moonshiner.

	Jeb Harlen served the tri-county area, and Stanis, and the City where Dim hailed from.  Lots of thirsty folk and Dim kept finding more and more!  Dim’s boss, Boss, was becoming quite the customer—but that also went for quite a few folk from Boone, Chester, and Gilmore counties!
	The sheriff of Boone County was Andy Loomas; a tall-tall slender man, no bullshit type man, serious about his badge, was parked on the porch of Jeb Harlen.
	‘Shit!  Piss!  Fuck!  Motherfucker!’ Dim said as he pulled up onto the scene; it was too late to back out and wait the Sheriff out—getting the Jeb’s place was thru a meandering dirt road thru huge towering grasses, cornfields, and stands of scrap trees.  Making the final turn and—there you were right on Jeb’s property.  The Sheriff’s car was parked off to one side; Jeb’s “business” was not on his property, of course, but he did have a few cases stored secretly.
	“Well, looky, ‘ere who come to see me!” chortled Jeb.  Dim ambled out of his car and came up to the old man shaking his hand, nodding to the Sheriff.
	“Sheriff an’ me been jus’ a jawin’ up a storm!” Jeb said settling back down in his wingback.  “Where’d the hell you been?” Jeb asked, “Ain’t seen yer hide in quite awhile?” which wasn’t true, Dim had been out “fetchin’” just days earlier.
	“Oh, Boss got me workin’, took my dad to a ballgame.” General chatter followed for the next few minutes—discussing ballgames and players.  Dim tried not to look uncomfortable; Sheriff Loomas was not a bad ass or a jerk, he was a lawmen and elected by the county peoples to do the job of the office—uphold the laws of the county.  He was easy going but still a man of the law.
	The Sheriff and Jeb were friends, they had coon hounds that they bred—it’s always nice to take your dog out to get laid, Jeb had been in the Korean War (Conflict) and Loomas had been in the Vietnam affair.  They both had been in the same outfits, just different eras—so there was a commonality there that they shared.
	Jeb, however, didn’t share his hooch.
	Loomas knew Jeb had a still, somewhere—and he knew the old boy had skunks like Dmitri runnin’ shine for him in and out of the county and counties.  Some of those ol’ boys Loomas had caught—but they never squealed on where they had gotten the trunk load of illegal liquor.
	Dim had yet to be caught.
	“You know, I hear’d tell that a pig can have an orgasm for thirty minutes!”
	(something I’ve always wanted to know)
	Sheriff Loomas sputtered his ice cold lemonade, “Gull dern, Jeb,” he sputtered, “What fool notion tells you to tell me that?”
	Jeb slapped his knee and commenced to giggling, “Jus’ to sees your reaction!”

	“A cockroach will live up to nine days before it starves to death.” Dim added.  Both Loomas and Jeb stared at Dim.  Dim, now feeling foolish and uncomfortable, got antsy.
	Shrugging it off, though, “A flea can jump three hundred fifty feet!  That’s like a human jumping the length of a football field!”
	Jeb got a twitch in his eye; Loomas sat staring with his mouth open.
	(I’m still not over the pig—thirty minutes!  Imagine!)
	“A lion can mate fifty times a day!” Jeb chuckled.
	Loomas stared at him with an even more bewildered look.
	Just then,
	“Sheriff, Sheriff Loomas, this is Base, come in.”
	“Go ahead, Tim.” Loomas said speaking into his radio’s microphone pinned to his shoulder.
	“Zeb Tucker says someone’s let loose his goats and pigs and they’s runnin’ all over the roadway.”
	“And why is that my problem?” Loomas said shaking his head.  “I’m not the county animal round-up man!”
	“Well,” said deputy Tim Dougnuts, “but he’s said that’s the third time this month and he’s going to put a stop to it!”
	Loomas sighed, put his head in his hand muttering to know one but anyone who would hear him, “tell me why again I took this job?”
	“Jeb, Dmitri, you all have a good evening.” He said standing up and making for his car, “Stay out of trouble.” He said—with his final remark aimed at Dmitri.
	“Bite my ass, Sheriff!” Dmitri said—but by then the Sheriff’s car had started and Dim’s words were unheard.
	After the Sheriff had departed, Jeb shook his head, “He’s onto you, boy.”
	“I know.”
	“Best be damn careful.” then, “You got an order?”

	Dim had three orders, Jeb only had enough moonshine jars to fill one order.
	“Yer gonna have’ta take me out to my still.”  Dmitri was one of the very few who knew where Jeb Harlen’s moonshine still was and Jeb Harlen trusted him.  So, after loading up what filled one order for Dim’s Boss they struck off just at sunset.
	(I’m still not over the pig…)
	After winding around the back area of Boone County country they emerged to Jeb’s moonshine still site #2—there were three sites to be noted.  Dim helped load fresh made hooch.
	“Top dollar on this batch.” Jeb said seriously.
	Dim smiled, “They’ll pay it.”
	After loading the special drink, Dim sampled some.
	It was an eye opener—and an eye closer.
	His entire mouth felt on fire—like a serious hot pepper explosion.
	Then he swallowed.
	A thousand mosquitoes buzzed in his ears; he heard Dark Thunder rolling on its rails; he began to tilt; and thought his world was turning upside down.
	“Smooooooth, ain’t it, boy?” chortled Jeb.
	The fire slowly left his mouth but left a tingling sensation regardless.  Then of course there was the trek down the throat, esophagus, and finally into the belly.  Wow—what a ride!  Another sip and Dim had a hard time standing up; he leaned against his car blowing air and not much else.  He had had some of Jeb Harlen’s hooch before, some batches were not as intense while others would literally knock your socks off.  This was by far the best countrified moonshine—ever!
	Dim required a few minutes (an hour) to recover.  Jeb had a sample of his own brew—didn’t seem to affect him whatsoever.  After Dim had his senses back it was time to head back to Jeb’s home and then Dim on to his own.  Just as they came onto Rutgut Road—lights of red and blue came on behind Dmitri’s ride filling his rearview mirror.  Dim had already hit the switch hiding his license plate replacing it with another register to a bloke in Stanis County.
	“This is the Sheriff of Boone County,” said a deep booming voice, Andy Loomas, “pull over and stop—” bla-bla-bla
	Dim smiled, “Hang on!” he told his passenger.  Jeb Harlen tightened his seat belt, his seat, put a hand thru his old well worn overalls and gritted himself for the ride of his life.
	“Now, boy, I’m seventy-two dern years old,” Jebadiah said, “don’t you go aging me none!”
	Dim smiled and tromped on the accelerator.
	The Sheriff’s car had a bitchin’ motor, too; good tires, and well balanced.  The driver?  Well, not so much.  He hit the accelerator, too.  Unlike Dmitri, though, Sheriff Loomas had something he didn’t—a two-way.  Loomas hit the gas pedal barking after the moon runner.  (insert Foggy Mountain Breakdown music here, from the movie Bonnie & Clyde.)
	Outrunning Loomas’ car wasn’t an easy task, ‘specially since he had gotten the proverbial jump on Dmitri as he pulled out onto the road.
	“Sons-a-bitches’ best not go huntin’ fer my still!” Jeb said aloud (of which they did.)  Two deputy sheriff cars peeled off from behind their leader going along the route taking them to Jeb’s still site.
	Shooting down the main road was not a good idea; roadblocks and road spikes were easy set-ups.  Dim struck off thru the cornfield—and that wasn’t a good idea, either.  He knew the lay of the land but at night it was a little different—he liked landmarks to see but at night that was a little difficult to see.
(insert fast playing redneck banjo playing here)
“He was screamin' through the valley where the Bald Deer River flows 
Through the mud and crud in the cornfields where the marijuana grows 
They crossed the railroad tracks at Whistle Stop; around the hills and thru the dales 
That high powered muscle car with four wheels flyin’ and smokey on his tail 

 	He was haulin’ shine and making time when Loomas gave him a shout
He was right there waitin’ at the meadow exit on the rural route 
Moonrunner Dim was doin’ sixty something per when he came out on that trap 
Loomas commenced to whirl his flashing lights and he made his siren wail 
Dim slipped on down to four on the floor with smokey on his tail 

 	Now Dim’s ride was a NASCAR pride with racing stripes and dual pipes 
Ole Loomas had a Ford 
Dim’s motor had a four port carb
Ole smokey’s was stroked and bored 
So the chase was on but Dim had the edge 
With a car that could never fail 
It was a 1969 Dodge Charger with four on the floor and smokey on his tail 

There he was; siren screamin’, lights flashin’, engine gunnin’ 

Dmitri dropped down to grab low and made a hard right turn 
Those super wide pavement grabbin’ tries went slashing through the corn 
The tassels flew and the kernels did, too, and it looked like yellow hail 
Just screaming alive in four wheels high with smokey still on his tail 

He was screamin' through the valley where the Bald Deer River flows 
Through the mud and crud in the cornfields where the marijuana grows 
They crossed the railroad tracks at Whistle Stop; around the hills and thru the dales 
That high powered muscle car with four wheels flyin’ and smokey on his tail.”

*

	“Jesus H Christ!” Jeb shouted—as the ’69 muscle car went sailing thru the fields of corn.  A hundred yards behind them and Sheriff Loomas of Boone County was hot as snot on their tail.
	“Gotta try and lose him (somehow).”
	Jeb looked around—but mostly there was only flying corn.
	“Gots to git out of this field!” Jeb said strongly.
	“No argument there.” Dim wasn’t too familiar with the cornfield so it was a bit of work to find an access road and make use of it.  A farmer’s road that was narrow but straight—Dim hit it (gas pedal) and flew down the road.
	“Gots to git me bearings,” Jeb said, “an’ I canna help us out a bit.”
	Minutes later—with Loomas still on his tail, Dim roared onto a paved road.
	Little help, night had fallen darkly and there was nothing to see to “get bearings.”
	“Jus’ haul ass, boy, haul ass!”
	Dim did just that.
	Thankfully, the Sheriff Department of Boone County didn’t have the funds for a helicopter.  In the horizon surrounding them, though—more lights flashing with possible help from neighboring counties.  Might outrun the county car but you can’t outrun the two-way! (radio)
	Then they passed a row of mailboxes.
	“STOP!” screamed Jeb.
	Dim stopped and Jeb checked the names on the boxes.
	“Ok,” he said, “we’re on Lock ‘n Load Road.”
	“Which way?”
	Jeb wasn’t sure, but the boxes were on the right soooo
	“You ain’t gonna like this,” Jeb said, “turn around.”
	Dim shook his head, but he trusted Jeb—as much as Jeb trusted him.  Jebadiah didn’t want to get caught as much as Dim did.  With Loomas bearing down on them and fellow deputy flunkies coming, too, Dim whipped the Dodge around and floored it.
	To say the least, Sheriff Loomas was startled and despite his years of behind the wheel chasin’ moonshine runners he ran off the road and into the cornfield (on his side stalled out.)  He was out of the race.
	Dim didn’t know that; he saw half a dozen sheriff cars closing in.  With his foot smashing the accelerator to the floor and the speedometer touching 80 miles per,
	“Ok, boy, you’ve impressed me good—slows down so we’s can make this turn.”
	Dim let off the gas and made the turn onto Barrel Ave.
	“Now what?”
	“Keep a-goin’!” chortled the old man.
	Jeb had graying hair, in his younger days it had been thick curly jet black; there was a bit of a pudge to his person, he was a few cunt hairs shy of being five foot eight.  He held on (for dear life) as Dmitri powered down the rural road—with half a dozen “smokies” on their tail.

	“Hang left!” Jeb shouted (above the still playing banjo music.)
	Barrel Ave. ended—literally; one of those dead end roads that gave you an option of turning Right or Left.  The lights of the car illuminated the caution warning sign and the red stop sign and the arrows point Left and Right.  Dim whipped the big heavy car Left and tromped it.
	“Bes’ get ‘er up to speed, boy.” Jeb said seriously.
	“Why’s that?” Dim asked not knowing but knowing something serious was about to happen.  And he was right.  The new road, Shoot Lane, went over a portion of Suskhanna River via a wooden bridge.
	Thing was, though—
	The Dodge’s lights brightly illuminated several placards that brightly gave details eluding to the fact that the bridge over the river was OUT.
	That wasn’t good news.
	“You can make it!” Jeb said.
	The speedometer wavered at 85.
	The ’69 Charger weighed just under four thousand pounds.  The powerplant was a nice hefty 500 Hemi giving the car a nice 425 horsepower.  And Dim needed every bit of that to make the jump.  The car could make ¼ mile at 13:48 or so seconds at 109 miles per.  As the bridge neared, Dim hit the booster tromping down as hard as possible opening up all the engine’s abilities thrusting premium juices thru the veins pushing the car to 112 miles per when they came to the non-existent bridge.
	There was a slight ramp there at the abutment; a raised area of a dirt mound.
	The car hit it and SAILED over the remains of the bridge and the Suskhanna River that had a trivial amount of water in it—but it was still twenty-five feet down (and sixty feet across!)
	Momentum is everything.
	Gravity is, too.
	And it WAS like slow-motion, Dim recalled; the car lifted and sailed at a phenomenal rate—but also, it was if like Dim could have just gotten out and sat on the hood!  Wouldn’t suggest it, though.  And after the “sailing” there was the gravity issue.
	The car hit the other side of the bridge—barely.
	One of the shocks didn’t make it, a lot of the undercarriage was bent, the left rear tire blew, two of the four motor mounts broke, and the two fellows in the front seat were rattled beyond belief.
	Six deputy sheriff cars, however, came to a screeching halt behind them with two crashing into the others pushing one car off into the river!  Whew!  What a ride!  “I don’t want to do that any time soon!” Dim said breathing hard.
	Jeb giggled, slapped his knee, “Son, sonofabitch!” he chortled on so.  The banjo music stopped and Dim headed for Jeb’s place.  The car made noises, rattled and shimmied—not a good sign.  Once at Jeb’s place again the car was parked and cooled off with water, the racing stripes were removed, the right license plate flipped back in place, alterations here and there and just in time as Sheriff Loomas made a maddening return.
	Sheriff Loomas and some deputies were at the front door in just minutes.
	A maddening knock did Loomas make—disturbing the slumbering inhabitants of the out-of-the-way shack.  Dim was still in his clothes, minus shoes and socks, but Jeb came to the door in nothing but his skivvies!  He looked as sleepy as possible.
	“What the ‘ells ailing you, Loomas?”
	“You two been here all night?” Loomas said pissed off and confused.
	“Yeah,” said Jeb, “where the ‘ell else would we be?”
	“What are YOU still doin’ ‘ere?” Loomas asked of Dim.  Dim saw a pair of deputies checking out his car.
	“We’re goin’ fishin’ in the morning.” Dim said rubbing his eyes and balls.
	“Hey!  Sheriff!” said one of the deputy flunkies, “This ‘ere don’t look like the one we’s was a chasin’.”
	“Chasin’?” Jeb said, “Whaz a-goin’ on, Loomas?”
	“Never you mind!” bitched Loomas and he marched to Dim’s car.
	The pint stripping was gone, different license plate, it looked lowered, too.
	The paint seemed different, too—Dim had a special paint job that reflected differently and with a special electrical charge energized the paint scheme to change it just enough to be different.
	“This aint the same car, Loomas!” spoke harshly one of the deputies.
	“Shut it!” almost yelled the Sheriff.
	Dim came out, stretching, “What’s this all about, Sheriff?” he asked nicely.
	“A moonrunner was out on the rural roads, Shoot, Barrel, out passed the river.”
	“We been here all night, Sheriff,” Dim said sincerely, “getting up early in the morning to go fishing.”
	Loomas gave Dim a hard stare.
	“You aint foolin’ me, boy,” he said seethingly, “I’s knows it was you!” but the car wasn’t the same.  His nostrils flared and Dim leaned against the muscle car knowing that Loomas knew—there was evidence of water to cool the “hot” car down—Loomas tapped his foot in one of the mud puddles that had formed.
	Loomas reared back, “That was a pretty good jump you made over the river.” He smiled trying a new tactic.  He then commenced to jostling the car, checking its soundness.
	Save for the one busted shock the car held up just fine.
	“Most folk water their flowers.” Loomas drawled.
	“Just cleaning her off,” Dim said proudly with his arms folded, “lot of bugs out this way.”
	Loomas flared his nostrils again, walked around the car, kicked a tire, shook his head.  It wasn’t the same car.
	“You want us to go check on that registerant?” Deputy Flowertoe asked sheepishly.
	“Yeah,” Loomas said almost sarcastically, “you do that!”
	Loomas stood with his back to Dim; the only lights on were those of the sheriff cars.  Dim sighed; he was proudful that his car had made the leap over the river, but only he and Jeb Harlen knew it—well, he and the entire Boone County Sheriff’s department!
	As Loomas slowly tredged to his car—an ear of corn fell from the back bumper of Dim’s ’69 Charger…

*

And now back to our regularly unscheduled programming
	“B-7!”
	Once she had been caught nakedly masturbating—her fate was sealed.
	Once she had been caught having sex with a boy—her fate was sealed.
	Once she had been caught having sex with a dog—well, you know.
	Maryanne Beawesome, thirteen, was a very sweet young teenager.  Demure in nature, calm, reserved; but also very bright, wonderful disposition, and had a penchant for “getting caught.”  To look at Maryanne, with her soft features, nicely developed breasts, shapely body, supple appearance, super fine ass length long brown hair, no one would know she had a “naughty” side.  But she did.  It wasn’t just boys who had unnatural desires…
	Like most girls Maryanne’s age, babysitting was one way in which to earn cash and help the community.  The duty of babysitting instilled upon the young teen responsibility, management, and the like of young boys.  She was a very helpful girl and one time while at the community hospital she encountered Chad Huntbear.  He was eleven and hospitalized due to an accident confining him mostly to a wheelchair.  His parents lived out of town and couldn’t be with him so much, they worked lots of hours to pay for the hospital stay leaving their only child a little depressed.
	Maryanne and some of her friends threw a party for mostly the little kids of the hospital that they knew to help cheer them up—but everyone was invited including older kids, too.
	Chad showed but wasn’t so enthused—his parents wouldn’t be able to come up to see him until the weekend—and it was Wednesday.  Maryanne noticed him wheeling out of the large community room and felt very badly for him.  She followed him, found him, tried talking to him but he was sad and pissed off.
	Maryanne wouldn’t be put off—
	“How about an outside adventure?”
	Chad shrugged.  He didn’t care and was on the verge of breaking down—which only made matters worse—a boy crying in front of a girl!?  Maryanne got authorization from the nurse’s station then whisked Chad outside to the hospital park.  Then around the back of the hospital to the park area that was more secluded.  There were pathways, nature paths, lots of trees, bushes, shrubs, and “out of the way” locales.
	They talked, mostly Maryanne talked trying to cheer up the young fellow who was in no mood to be cheered up.  She tried finding something of interest.
	“Do you—like to fish?”
	He shrugged, his dad worked too much to go fishing.
	“Baseball?”  “Basketball?”  “Golf?”
	He sucked at basketball, had no clue about golf; baseball, however—
	“I play short stop, the hardest position on the field!” the boy brightened up and chatted openly about baseball, his team, the new glove he got.
	“I hit a homerun last time I was playing,” he said proudly, “brought two guys in, too!” unfortunately the other team brought in more guys than his team but still, a homerun was a homerun.
	Then the accident happened.
	He was riding his bike when it slipped on a bad piece of road, the heat had buckled the road and there was a bump he didn’t see; “the front tire hit it and the bike slid in some oil” and Chad got pummeled by a car.  Luckily, though, the car was coming to a stop so the impact was not so bad—just broke his leg and injured his hips.  His parents didn’t have quality health insurance so the community hospital miles away was the best choice for his care.
	Now he was depressed again.
	Then,
	“Maryanne, I-I sorta gotta get back.”
	“You in pain?”
	“No, I-I gotta go to the bathroom.”
	Oh.
	A brief pause, then—
	“Do you got to just go pee?”
	Chad bowed his head and nodded quickly.
	Maryanne brightened hiding her smile, “Well, you can just “go out here”, then.”
	Chad was taken by surprise, “Out here?” he said astonished looking around.
	“There’s no one around,” Maryanne assured, “It’ll be cool.”
	Chad, though, “Well, I-I have trouble standing.” to wit Maryanne said,
	“Don’t worry, I’ll help you.”
	This, of course, took Chad by surprise.  But the need to pee was getting urgent.  Maryanne didn’t seem embarrassed and had already started helping him to stand.  With trembling fingers he opened his hospital gown robe fishing out his penis from his hospital pants and underwear.  He was a little clumsy and had it not been for Maryanne “right there” he would have surely fallen.
	But Maryanne WAS right there and held him firmly.
	Then she did the unthinkable—she took holt of his member aiming it as the flood of pent up urine exploded from his piss slit.  The relief was instant and very welcome.  The embarrassment was not so bad but he was still sheepish some.
	The girl holding his dick then began “working” it—more than what he did himself when after a good piss.  There was the customary “shake” but Maryanne did a lot more than that!  She “shook” the eleven year old member, then began pulling it back and forth—back and forth—back and forth stretching the cock more and more until “good feelings” began swelling up inside the boy—not too mention his cock.
	Maryanne expertly played with Chad’s schlong until it was at optimum hardness.  Then she sucked it.  Just like that!  The act totally blew the boy’s mind.  Maryanne sucked and sucked; she fondled his balls, worked down his pajama pants and undies then gently laid the boy down—and laid him.
	Maryanne pulled off her blouse hen her bra.  Chad’s eyes bulged; he had never-ever seen a girl’s bare breasts before.  Never-ever!  But wait!  There’s more!  The girl was one of few girls who preferred dresses and long skirts; jeans and shorts were ok, walking shorts and such—but in the summer especially, Maryanne Beawesome liked dresses and skirts.
	In one fluid motion the skirt was off and standing up she slithered down her pinkish panties totally captivating her young charge.  Never-ever had he seen a girl of ANY age naked.  His young cock was the hardest it had ever been!  And Maryanne settled her cunt right down on it.
	 A little grinding against the boy’s cock, a little cock spittle oozing from the cock’s piss slit; the girl laid down on the boy, grinning and grinding her very nice breasts against the boy’s chest—of which she also made bare, then slowly snaked his cock into her cunny.
	The fuck was on!
	Slowly at first but a minute later and the FUCK WAS ON!
	Chad was a quick cummer blowing his load up into Maryanne’s pussy in just under two minutes time!  His cock, however, remained nice and hard and Maryanne was just getting started.  The girl rode the boy and rode the boy and rode the boy into sexual oblivion.  Laying down on the boy and moving her just hips; the boy’s cock slipped out a couple of times and one of those times—Maryanne eased the boy’s cock into her asshole!	 She did!  Sitting up she worked herself up and down the boy’s cock (in her ass) furthering blowing Chad’s mind.

Bark!  Bark!  Woof!  Woof!  Pussy’s pussy to a dog
	Oh the things you find out when spying…
	Case in point, Maryanne Beawesome and Champion the Wonder Dog.
	Other than caring for kids, Maryanne also walked dogs.  Champion was one such dog she took for walks almost daily—the doggie, a 10 year old German Shepherd, belonged to an elderly woman who no longer could walk well.  Maryanne checked in on the old woman, as she did several other old people she knew; brought them things they needed and just touched basis.
	Speaking of “touching basis”…
	Taking Champion to the park was one of the dog’s best likes; the other was nailing the willing human girl who walked him there.  In the same area that Maryanne had taken Chad, Champion got busy with the pretty human not on a daily basis but “often”.  Maryanne would get as naked as she did with Chad; put socks on Champion’s paws—so as the front paws wouldn’t scratch her, and after working the doggie’s pick cock out of it sheath and getting it ultra hard—she spread her legs (and ass) and let Champion the Wonder Dog have his way.
	Champion had his way often with Maryanne’s asshole.
	Occasionally he plugged her pussy and Maryanne was ok with that, too.
	Afterwards and did Champion lick out Maryanne’s snappin’ pussy.
	Kinda creepy but oh well…

*

Daddy’s little girl!
	(is naughty!)
	One day, while not out screwing a little boy or dog, Maryanne lay out on her bed—butt bare ass naked, fingering herself.  Who should walk in on her?  Her dad.  Correction—step-dad.  And he didn’t walk all the way in—just opened the door and “there she was”—naked, on her bed, gettin’ after it.
	After a few minutes, Maryanne emerged out of her room; clothed.  She found her new daddy in his room—doing what SHE had been doing!  He was clothed, just sitting on his bed—“gettin’ after it.”
	“Jesus!” he hollered standing up.
	“Sorry.” Maryanne said backing out closing the door.
	New daddy, Chuck Swatswamp, was a nice enough man; after the death of her own daddy, Chuck had come along and swept Maryanne’s mother off her feet.  That had been two years ago and Maryanne, for the most part, had grown to accept the new daddy but not “love” him like she did her bio daddy.  And that was ok.
	“We really gotta learn how to knock.” Chuck said finding Maryanne back in her room.  Maryanne nodded.  She was soooo pretty, not outstandingly pretty or knock out pretty, but she was a girl who had pleasing looks, was polite, no blemishes, thirteen years young, and was naughty.
	Chuck was two inches over six foot tall, lean, business man, good looking, and desperately wanted to fuck his new daughter.  He had no children of his own and Maryanne had no other siblings.  After sighing,
	“I’m sorry.” The man said, “A-about walking in on you.” He shook his head and was honestly embarrassed.  “I-I wasn’t thinking.” He rattled on almost incoherently showing his humiliation.
	“It’s ok, Dad (Maryanne had taken a year before she started addressing her new daddy as “Dad) I didn’t mean to walk unannounced in on you, either.”
	She was so polite, so demure!  Soft features, lovely to look at and talk with; she had a polite smile, was a pleasant person t be around, and he had never heard her fart!
	Chuck sighed—now came the awkward moment.
	“Soooo,” drawled Maryanne leaning against her desk,
	“Yeah, sooo, uh,” and Chuck sighted in on the cast off panties Maryanne hadn’t put back on—and bra, “sooo, uh, uh—uhm, did you like—I mean, have you ever seen, I mean; uh, was that the first time—first time, uhm, you—you’ve seen a guy—”
	Maryanne gave him the strangest “what the fuck?” are you talking about look but then brightened at the end.
	“Oh, well, yes.  I mean, I know how it’s done.” she said smiling meekly.
	“For a long time,” Chuck said continuing, “I-I didn’t know girls—I didn’t know—I mean to say, I-I uh, I didn’t know girls—did that—too.”
	Maryanne blushed and Chuck looked down to his feet—eyes still eyeing his daughter’s panties.  Maryanne noted the look and scooped the garment up along with her bra.
	Chuck looked faint.  There was an ache in his pants, a serious “I gotta get laid” look on his face.
	“I was changing clothes and—” oh, that ole line “I was changing clothes and somehow my fingers found my cunt.”
	“Well, it—it looked like you knew what you were doing.”
	He couldn’t believe he said that.
	Maryanne blushed again and sat on her bed—still holding her undies.
	“You did, too.” she blurted out.
	Chuck’s ache was increasing.
	“I guess it feels good for a girl as much as a guy.”
	Maryanne shrugged—her eyes fell onto the bulge between his legs.
	“There are better ways.” she said lightly.
	“Same here.” Chuck said with a smile.
	Another awkward moment lingered; a nice breeze came in thru the window—and being that that window was on the second floor, Chuck waltzed across the room looking out (to see if anyone could see in to see his daughter “gettin’ after it.”)
	Then,
	“Soooo, you were changing clothes?” he inquired changing the subject sort of kind of.
	Maryanne got up and picked up a dress outfit from off the back of her chair at the walk-in closet, “Yes, this one.” it was a nice plain dress—blue top with old fashioned designs on the bottom part of which was almost ankle length.
	“Nice.”
	“Would you like to see me put it on?” careful, now—
	Chuck stood unable to breathe; he blinked his eyes and stared with mouth open wide.  His facial expression had changed somewhat; a more curious mode had come unto him.  He nodded and Maryanne—remember her words “see me put it on” and she worked the dress she was wearing off her shoulders to once more be presented naked.
	Chuck let out a long moan.
	Maryanne put the new dress on, turned around, and Chuck had a hard time not whipping his dick out right then and there.  But what the hell, the girl had already seen it?
	“Are you alright?” she quizzed.
	“No.” Chuck answered truthfully.  He gouged the heel of his hand to his throbbing erection and looked to his daughter once more with a mournful ache on his face.
	Maryanne kept her eyes on his bulge; then, slowly, she removed the new dress and moved to her bed.  Chuck watched her; he was in agony—ag-oh-knee!
	“God! You’re so pretty!” 
	Maryanne smiled, blushed differently; her young teenage nipples were pert, her body fantastic (‘specially naked!)  She parted her legs and once more began fingering herself—slowly.
	Fuck it!  Chuck whipped his dick out and began flaunting it.
	Maryanne began to intently finger herself.  She was thirteen.  His wife’s biological daughter.  She was thirteen.  He was not.  His cock was hard.  Maryanne was naked, fingering herself, eyeing his cock.  She was thirteen.  His wife’s biological daughter.  She was naked.  She wasn’t screaming and seemed to have the same “want to” in her eyes.  She was naked.
	She was thirteen.
	Forty-something year old Chuck shed his clothes—maybe this was a dream.
	Yeah—a dream.  And if it was a dream—then by all means—fuck away!
	On the bed, naked, with thirteen year old Maryanne, his wife’s daughter, Chuck nestled between the girl’s legs addressing her pussy.  It was a nice pussy.  Neatly trimmed pubes, a perfect pie.  And Chuck’s expert eye noted that the pussy was not all that virginal as it possibly should be.  Not at all.  He applied his tongue and licked-licked-licked.  He was an expert at doing that—just not to thirteen year old girls.
	After his tonguing—his cock!
	He said nothing as he moved up onto the girl; she was amazing to him.  So pretty!  Perfect skin!  Perfect titties!  Perfect face!  Chuck expertly guided into her crevice his love tool and very nearly blew his load right then and there.
	“I-I don’t have—protection.” He stammered (having a worried look that the proceedings would then therefore be put off until he did.)
	“Don’t worry,” Maryanne said, “I do.”
	Ah, well, there you have it—FUCK AWAY!
	And Chuck did.  And it was a hell of a ride!  A minute in and the girl nutted up wrapping her legs about his legs, her arms squeezing him drawing him onto her, his powerful cock thrusting deeply into her teenage cunt.  The bed didn’t squeak as much as it bounced.  Chuck managed to arch himself, sit up at an angle and seriously power thrust his cock into her crack.  Maryanne thrashed about her bed making hauting noises and seemingly almost in agony.
	She wasn’t—it was sex related.
	The fuck went on for three more intense minutes; Maryanne shuddered as her orgasms came in multiples.  Chuck trembled as waves of orgasmic bliss leapt from his heaving body.  His cock tingled, eyes rolled back, toes curled, everything indicating a damn good fuck.
	The two lay in a swath of serious sex sweat—kissing.  Chuck fondled the girl’s titties, fingered her cum laden pussy, caressed her ass and wanted to talk to her but anything he said would be petty and stupid.  It was best to keep quiet and not spoil the moment.
	Moments later and he was up to go shower noting the time that was late and his wife, Maryanne’s mother, would soon be home from work.  As soon as the door shut, Maryanne sighed and continued fingering herself.  That was a good one!
Cums a river
	Before there was television—there was radio.
	Before computers—there was playing stickball in the street.
	Before Gay Pride there was American Pride.
	Before Maryanne there was Ginger, the Professor, and this little girl, Claudia.  Claudia Denise Jane Beefore.  Like the other girls thus far, she was thirteen; she was very active (in all kinds of ways); lived with her single father, had a younger sibling, and a horny boyfriend.  Mountain climbing and cave exploration was just some of the many adventurous things this girl liked to wander into.
	Sex was another.
	Providing that sex was her ever horny boyfriend, Scott Heyimhere.  He was a year older, dashing good looks, dark hair, green eyes, big satisfying dick.  It was that smile of his (and his dick) that won Claudia over; Scott preferred using her middle initials, DJ, and that was alright with her.
	They had once been caught kissing—trying out for a record that was usually intended for older teens and young adults.  Claudia’s dad was not mad or even upset but he was just concerned about the two teens’ relationship.  He probably had an assumption that they were probably fucking.  And he would be probably right.
	One day,
	Scott comes over finding Claudia’s little sister acting weird—weirder than usual.  Mostly smiling, rocking back and forth on her feet, and almost seemingly glowing.  Scott had no idea. 
	When Claudia finally emerged onto the scene,
	“What’s with her?” Scott asked not knowing.
	Claudia smiled shaking her head sadly; she was a strikingly good looking girl for thirteen; titties were melon sized, she wasn’t too tall, good build, slim, LOTS of incredible blond hair.  The lip gloss, too, was a nice touch.
	“She just wants to suck your dick!” Claudia said almost sarcastically.
	A puff of air could have bowled Scott over.
	“What the fu—” he said not sure what he heard was what he heard.
	“She’s seen us,” Claudia said wavering on being pissed and aggravated, “mostly ME sucking you.”
	Scott stood more than bewildered.  Claudia went on.
	“She’s been hiding in the closet—watching us.”
	Scott’s eyes bulged.
	“So NOW she wants to do it, too.”
	Scott was speechless.
	“Would you mind?”
	Scott stumbled to breathe.  Claudia’s sister was barely ten years young!
	“I-I-I-I-I, uh—I-I-I-I, uh—”
	The stammering teen looked to Claudia for help.
	“It’s ok.” Claudia smiled.  Scott, though, wasn’t so reassured.  It felt like a set up.  He felt like he was having a stroke!  That feeling was compounded when Claudia stepped behind her sister (who was wearing a nice blue kiddie dress) and lifted it up—revealing to the always horny teenage boy the fact that Stephanie Joanne Beefore was wearing no undies!
	The breath was sucked right out of Scott.
	Claudia turned escorting her sister down the hall of their single story home to her bedroom turning her head over her shoulder to her gawking boyfriend,
	“You coming?”
	(he wasn’t even hot yet!)

	They were going out to a movie, mini golf afterwards, meet with friends at the Fat Frank’s Pizza joint but there was a temporary derailment.  Peeking into Claudia’s room he found Stephanie already naked and his girlfriend shucking her short jean shorts—and was already topless!
	“Well?” Claudia asked as she stripped down to her skin.
	Scott blew out his breath—he had never expected this sort of thing to happen.  Never-ever.  Then, he was kinda glad it did!  He got his famous smile on and though in the back of his mind he thought that maybe it was still a set up or something—like he would get naked and stand before Stephanie ready to get his willy sucked and their dad would come out of the closet and bust him—along with police and police dogs and so on and so forth.
	A quick look to the closet and Scott began peeling his clothes off.
	Up close and personal did little Stephanie get a gander at her sister’s boyfriend’s cock.  And what a cock!  It was really about average but stuck out hard and all it was kinda impressive.  A little goading here and a little guiding there and the ten year old put her fingers about the impressive fuck pole.  She giggled and grinned and Scott got harder and harder.
	Soon and that hard-on was being more manipulated as the little girl worked it, closing her fingers about the pulsing prong she moved effortlessly up and down tightening the skin of the flute all the more.  Then she kissed it.  On whispered guidance from her big sister “just do what I did.” and Stephanie amidst giggles and grins kissed the tip of sister’s boyfriend’s cock.
	That was followed quickly by fully sucking—sliding her pretty mouth down on the slender schlong; all the way to the base where she did show repulsion with making a face and gagging.  Her sister whispered something to her and the little girl nodded—then continued sucking while big sister fingered herself—AND fingered her!

	After much sucking—Scott was in even more agony displaying the “I gotta fuck!” face.  Claudia was only too happy to oblige—she was just as horny as he was.  And though his girlfriend’s little sister had sucked his dick—he still felt sheepish with her presence as he mounted Claudia.
	Claudia, however, didn’t seem to mind the presence of her little sister nor did the little sister!  Claudia slipped her hand down between their sweaty bodies and after taking holt of the slobbered on cock guided it into her crevice.  Scott dismissed Stephanie’s presence and sank his cock into Claudia.  The fuck was on!
	Stephanie sat on the bed crooked, watching in awe up close and very personal as a “sex act” took place.  The taste of Scott’s cock still lingered in her mouth—she didn’t seem to mind that, either.  Slowly, as the two lovers did their thing, Stephanie slid off the bed—just to get on her knees.  There she had an extreme eye view of the sex act on the bed—she saw right up close Scott’s cock sliding in and out of her sister’s cunt.
	“Wow!” she breathed.  It was awesome!
	Stephanie’s turn didn’t come then—it was a couple of months later.
	Meanwhile,

*

Cums a river II
	The things you find out when you stalk
	At another at an out-of-state track meet, Scott Heyimhere stumbled across a find.  After the track meet event—of which Scott placed 3rd overall, there was a celebratory celebration at a local roadside eatery before piling into the bus and heading home.  The bathrooms to this facility were located outside and out behind the 50 year old establishment.  Scott had to go.
	After emerging from the brick shit house (literally) he saw a long Cadillac pull out from under a huge non-descript tree, hit the pavement and haul ass away-away-away.  After the dust had settled and before turning the corner back to his friends—he saw sitting under the tree a ditty bag.  A bag like he used for carrying shoes, socks, undies, deodorant, a picture of his honey, Claudia.
	He paused a moment thinking, “Hey, he (driver of the Caddy) left in such a rush he forgot his bag.” Then, “Maybe there’s an identification tag inside and I can call him (and get a reward?)”
	Slowly he sauntered over to the huge tree; it was a good fifty yard walk; the area was desolate being void of any other trees, or much of any other living thing.  It was hot, too; from beyond the tree there was desert-like conditions; scrub bush and rocks, a few lizards, some snakes.  To the right was an old horse corral; to the left—a few abandoned cars, washing machines, big rocks.
	The Caddy that had peeled out was an old late mode 1960s car, convertible; Scott remembered that it was lower in the rear than in the front and that there was one occupant—the driver (who wore a big cowboy hat).  Other features of the driver were obliterated by the immense dust storm his car had kicked up.
	The ditty bag was black with red strapping.
	Scott looked around quickly to see if anyone else was about coming to claim the bag.  No one was.  Picking the bag up he found it to be kinda heavy.  Sitting the bag back down—something told Scott to just “walk away.”
	But seldom did a fourteen year old boy just “walk away” from something interesting.  He unzipped the bag—checking for identification and found something that took his breath away.  More than seeing Claudia naked, more than seeing her sister naked—more than getting blow jobs from both girls and more than anything else he could think of.
	Money.
	Bank wrapped money.
	Also a gun, a stun gun, brass knuckles, and a strange device later discovered to be what else—an EMAD.  Scott knew what the Device was—there might be peoples who didn’t know what a satellite dish was, or indoor plumbing, who the current president was, but the general populace knew what an Electronic Mind Altering Device was.
	His first reaction was to zip up the bag and run.
	But there was a hell of a lot of money there.
	Had the Cadillac driver accidentally forgot it; or was it placed there for someone else?  He sure did take off in a hurry.  There was a lot of money inside, the gun, the other gun.  It all added up to something bad—very bad.  Scott wisely stepped away—all the way back to the bathrooms.

	It was hot out, high desert area was the place and it was hot, dry, humid, and the bus was about to load and head back to their own city.  Scott washed his hands, read all the dirty jokes scrawled on the plastered dingy walls of the not-so-clean bathroom, then scurried to the bus “just in time” slinging his black ditty bag with red stripes into the luggage bin along with his green ditty bag with black stripes.  The two bags were tied together and at the last moment before the driver closed the luggage bin door—Scott stuffed the black bag into the green bag.
	A three hour drive there was home.
	As the bus pulled out—a large SUV pulled into the dirt/gravely space and drove all the way behind the eatery to that large tree.  The bus picked up speed and made a turn so Scott couldn’t see the driver but he had an idea he was there to pick up something.
	While most of his fellow students slept the whole way home—Scott did not and watched the mirrors of the bus, the traffic beside the bus, and fretted.  Maybe it was a mistake—maybe he should have left the bag at the tree.  He wouldn’t have been able to rightly forget about it and would fret so even more so—but at least he wouldn’t be worrying and looking over his shoulder so much.
	He hadn’t counted the money; the handgun was a worry, the stun gun was a curiosity, the brass knuckles?  Wow.  And the minding device.  He knew what one was and what it did.  They were the most illegal device there was; more so than drugs, handguns, or anything else.  There were devices to detect such minding gadgets as well as prevent their use.
	But still…
	The long drive home kind of pooped everyone out—no party at the pizza joint or even much socializing at someone’s house.  Everyone grabbed their personal belongings and loaded up in their waiting family car and off.  Scott’s family was there; his Dad, Mom, and three sisters; Marsha, Jan, and Cindy one-two-three.
	Marsha wore tight jeans; Jan wore a short skirt, Cindy wore big open legged shorts than when she squirmed making room for her big brother whom she adored she gave him a crotch shot.
	Sure, having three younger siblings, girls, allowed Scott certain “perks.”
	Panties; crotch shots, full nudity.  Sister Marsha was twelve, Jan was ten, and Cindy was seven years.  Each one he had seen naked; Marsha had gotten modest about her body when she was around nine; Jan was a little more outgoing and didn’t mind so much if her Daddy or brother saw her “unclothed.”  Cindy was an occasional streaker.
	Sure, as a boy, a brother with sisters, girl friends who came over to the house to socialize, party, and whatnot gave thought to “if I only had an EMAD.”  To see a girl (of basically any age but a girl his own age was satisfactorily more appealing) naked was da bomb.  Deeply did he fantasize about seeing a girl from his age group naked.  All of them!  Having sisters helped in the knowledge of “what a girl looked like” naked.
	There was no immediate “going home”; despite his not placing First in the competition that was not a fully fledged event but a get together among schools before final competitions later on, the family took their track runner to dinner.
	Scott would have preferred to go home.
	Although he tried to be conversational it was so noted that he was moody.
	“Scott, are you alright?” his Mom asked.  Even sister Marsha noted his lack of being himself.  His Dad assumed that the Third Place finish had his son down.
	“Don’t worry about it, son,” his Dad said, “if you did your best, and didn’t finish last, then all is good.” he smiled and tried to make light of the situation.
	After dinner they piled back into the family car and finally went home.
	Scott grabbed his bag(s) and fled to his room, locking the door, checking the windows, heart beating out of his chest.  Then, he went INTO his closet bringing in a flashlight.  It seemed like it took almost five minutes to unzip HIS bag.  He heard the bathroom shower come on—sister Marsha most likely.
	Sister Marsha—she was twelve, not overly cute, kind of a Plain Jane, almost flat chested but there was some titty mound there just the same.  He had never really gotten to see her fully naked—as a child, sure, but no close ups and no “staring” at her to fully take her into memory (for future masturbation purposes.)
	Jan he saw more openly but both were afraid of getting caught.  With Jan, Scott believed (and hoped) as she got a little older she might be a little more willing to show herself.
	With Cindy?  Well, she didn’t streak downstairs but upstairs—she darted nakedly from the bathroom to her bedroom.  Sometimes she got a wild hair and ran from one end of the hallway to the other—usually when no one else was home like parents or siblings—Marsha and Jan specifically.  With Scott she took the chance; they had a good rapport and she knew he wouldn’t snitch on her—like Marsha would.
	More painstaking minutes were absorbed before the black bag with red stripes was opened.  He feared the handgun.  He didn’t know what type it was but it didn’t have a long barrel like many he had seen or a “clip” like spies use but was a revolver type.  He wrapped the weapon in his boxers to decide what to do with it later.
	The stun gun he wasn’t sure about, either.
	The brass knuckles?  He had seen them used in gangster movies.
	The EMAD.  It was a Device being some eight inches long, three inches wide, black molded hard plastic casing curved upward at one end—the business end.  If there was a battery compartment he couldn’t find it.  It was seamless.  On the surface side where the skin was smooth and not rough for better grip/handling, there were sensor buttons.
	Holding his breath—Scott depressed one of the buttons.
	Nothing.
	Another button—nothing.
	Another button—same.
	He was beginning to think it was dysfunctional when when putting the Device away he touched another button and there was life!  The top part of the elongated gadget illuminated a curious blue color.  A large LCD screen appeared; it was blank.  Several more sensor buttons appeared in that same curious blue color scheme.	
	Scott sighed.  Wow.
	There were several “bundles” of strapped money.  More money than Scott had ever seen!  Both his parents worked; his Dad was an architect while his Mom dabbled in real estate.  They had a nice home, two cars, family vacations to family related resorts, they had it good with little want.
	The bundles of strapped cash was twenty.  Each bundle was in increments of twenty dollar bills.  Each bundle was two-thousand American dollars.  Scott blinked his eyes, swallowed hard, felt his heart beating out of his chest again—that was some $40,000!
	Someone was gonna be pissed (like the SUV driver who had come up after the “drop-off.)  Scott breathed and couldn’t wrap his head around it.  What was he going to do?

	At two o’clock in the morning, Scott slipped out of the house with the loaded revolver wrapped in his undies.  Out to the curb and down to the end of the block where the sewer was.  There he simply shoved the dangerous weapon in and heard it KER-SPLASH into the waste water below.
	The brass knuckles he had no use for and after wrapping them in a plastic bag tossed them into the trash can in the alley.  The stun gun he wasn’t sure about, either and ultimately sent it into the sewer, too.
	The EMAD he was keeping—he wasn’t an idiot.
	The money he was keeping some—the rest he was giving (anonymously) at the Children’s Shelter, Homeless Shelter, Animal Shelter, and Senior Shelter.  The rest he kept for himself; but was wise enough to take the bank banding straps off and wise enough not to go splurging and buying huge expensive gifts.  The money he kept was stowed in another bag and tucked up inside his closet “out of the way.”
	On his first return from getting rid of the revolver,
	“What are you doing?” Marsha said catching him coming in thru the patio door into the kitchen.
	Busted!
	“Just—nothing.” he said having no good answer to give.
	“Still bugged about third place?”
	Oh, well there’s that.  He shrugged and raided the refrigerator and slumped into a kitchen chair after securing a hunk of chocolate cake and milk.
	“Don’t let it bug you so much,” Marsha said being helpful.  And after getting her own helping of cake and milk and plopping down in a chair, “Like Dad said, you did you best, so go with it.”
	It didn’t help—well, it did in a way; it showed that he had his family’s support.
	“Thanks.” he said offering a meek smile.
	Marsha was alright, sometimes; she wasn’t a brat but sometimes was a snitch and often got her siblings (mostly him) in trouble for some infraction or another.  But she was alright, a little immature despite the fact that girls were supposed to be more mature than boys.
	Scott was clad in his pajamas, so was Marsha.  As she scrounged around the refrigerator, the light from within gave way to her body.  Sure, it was a twelve year old body and Scott could have easily reached out and snagged her pajama bottoms wrenching them down along with her underwear and have his way with her.
	Well, that was thought anyways.  And such a thought gave him a boner.
	He thought of Claudia.
	He thought of Claudia’s sister, Stephanie.
	He thought of Maggie, Alice, Elaine, Georgette, another Stephanie—all girls in his social.  Each one he wanted to sink his bone into.  Each girl had a specialty about her, a quirk; albeit her smile, dazzling eyes, breasts, clothes she wore, her laugh, accidental farting.  Each girl he had seen in her swimsuit; each girl he had held hands (not for girlfriend/boyfriend relationship) but in friendship.  Each girl while fucking Claudia had he thought of fucking her.
	When Marsha sat back down at the table, Scott stood up taking his dishes to the sink—his cock preceded him.  He could just barely see out the corner of his eye his sister’s eyes bulge at seeing his bulge.  She didn’t say anything—had she done so he might have just stuffed her mouth with his bulge to shut her up!
	On his second return trip hours later—it was Jan who caught him.  She was raiding the refrigerator, too, and in waltzes Scott.  She gave him a curious look and asked “What have you been doing?” typical question to ask of one’s brother sneaking back inside the house at 4AM doncha think?
	“Uh, couldn’t sleep, had to just walk around outside a bit.”
	She bought it.
	“Have some cake?” she asked smilingly.
	“Sure, why not!”
	Jan wasn’t in her typical pajamas but a nightgown.  A SHORT nightgown whereas when bending over scouring the contents of the fridge for anything else tasty—Scott got a bare view of her bare behind!
	SPROING!
	His cock was so hard he could bust bricks with it!
	After Jan sat down, Scott stood up.	
	And there it was—throbbing hard and seriously poking out his pajama bottoms.  His velvet knee length lavender robe was open and the light from the oven clock, nightlight at the corner of the kitchen, the microwave light, all shed light on Scott’s protrusion.  Jan’s eyes were HUGE.
	She had, of course, seen his cock before—but not so up close or personal.
	Brief nudity abounded; in a house of siblings it was a given that they would see each in various forms of dress—nakedly dressed being one of them.  But it wasn’t blatant or outlandish.  Not until recently.  Recently and when Scott was changing clothes—Jan barged in on him.  She was startled, he was startled, she was awed, he was hard.
	“Anyone else home?” he asked ‘cause he had just gotten in from a soccer practice and was changing out of his clothes quickly and hadn’t noticed if anyone else was home.
	“Nope!” she said smiling (and not taking her eyes off his hard cock.)
	“Why is it like that?” she asked not knowing.
	Not missing a beat, “Because you’re here.”
	She didn’t quite get that, but her smiling brother warmed her.
	“And you’re cute!”
	Jan smiled even bigger; for a ten year old she was way more mature (and cuter!) than her twelve year old sister!  Nothing happened, though; the family car pulled in and Jan ran out of the bedroom leaving her brother with a hard-on standing there wondering.
	Luckily he had his girlfriend to ease his bone but still—
	So, anyways, he stood up from the breakfast table and once more showed Jan his schlong.  It was harder than ever and just aching to get into her mouth.  He trembled, shuddered, and ached all over.  Jan stared with glossy eyes, mouth open just a little.  There was some three feet of space between them.
	‘suck me, Jan—please—PLEASE suck me!’
	But a noise averted the potential pleasure—someone coming down the steps.  At least they made a noise and not wait until coming into the kitchen, flipping on a light and catching Scott with his cock in his ten year old sister’s mouth!  That would be bad and really hard to explain.
	Scott nearly zoomed out of the kitchen very nearly careening into his Dad coming down for a pre-breakfast snack.
	“Whoa!  Easy there, son!”
	“Sorry, Dad.”
	Jan came in behind them and as their Dad went into the kitchen, the siblings merged up the stairs brushing their shoulders together.  Scott sorta hoped Jan would sneak into his room and they could mess around or something, but she went into her room she shared with her sister, Cindy.  Marsha had her own room, too.
	In his room, Scott grabbed a pair of panties—which happened to be Jan’s, and happily jerked off.  The cool breeze thru the open window really helped soothe him; he was a lucky guy—banging his willing girlfriend’s three holes, her sister’s mouth (thus far) and had a semi willing sister.
	He also was the proud owner and possessor of an electronic minding device.
Brotherly love (the sticky kind)
	Some time later and the parental units were going out with friends leaving Scott in charge of his younger sibs.  Marsha was second banana to help over the herd—along with Jan and Cindy there, too, was Peter and Bobby, eleven and eight respectively.
	After several minutes of banter between parents and children and checking to see if those in charge knew their stuff,
	Marsha slumped her back against the great oak door sliding down shaking her head saying “PARENTS!”
	Scott agreed.
	He waited until the family car left the drive, then waited an additional two minutes before—
	‘Take off your shirt.’
	He held his breath and tensed up—waiting—and then watching as the usually very modest almost prissy Marsha undone the buttons to her off-orange shirt.  Scott couldn’t believe it—the EMAD was working!  Of course, he had tested the Device prior—not on anyone in the house but a neighbor girl who happened to cross his path.
	Tina Slepthere was in the alley walking in a huff about something.  She was thirteen, dark hair, long limbs, nice tight butt, wearing a convenient skirt outfit.  From the world wide web and in-depth news reports on the operation of a minding device and mind control, Scott learned the finite process action procedure of the Device.  He was sure there was more but determined that what he had learned so far was good enough.
	Directing the teenager into the thick heavily laden ivy that formed a wall most of the alleyway and where his brothers (and other boys had a “fort”) Scott got right to the business at hand—which was hand up under Tina’s skirt.  She was mindless—almost zombie-like.  Scott had no idea the scope of what the mind controlling device could do for him.  It was a bold adventure that had him a little worried but mostly curious.
	After feeling up Tina’s ass he lowered her panties and was marveled at how his balls were still not in pain (and how they were swelling so!)  He had only fondled his own ass and never anyone else’s.  Feeling of Tina’s ass and he thought he would pass out.  So wondrous!
	Then his fingers went into the crack of her ass feeling the warmth encased therein.  He began to tremble and shudder before hormones overwhelmed him having him lay the mind stunned girl down on the ground on some flattened cardboard.  Then he worked her panties off and pushed her skirt up.
	Pussy.
	A nice little virgin beaver greeted him, trimmed pubes and all.
	Scott admired the girl’s pussy—and the EMAD that had brought it to be.  With a sigh that was long and drawn out along with his thinking, he moved down on the girl licking out her pussy—it was something he enjoyed greatly doing unto Claudia and then subsequently her sister.
	After admiration and licking, he pushed down his pants and undies and laid his hardened schlong onto the girl’s pussy—and there he did hump.  No penetration, just hump.  It was almost as good as entering her—almost.  He grinded hard, glided his cock up and down the virgin crevice, poked until he met resistance then settled on humping the slit until he spewed spunk.
	The release was good—he knew it would have been ten times as better if he had been IN the girl but let it go.  He didn’t even go after her titties!  His cock lolled in the mess he had made; he fingered the spunk in her cunt then heard voices.
	Boys!
	His brothers and some of their friends!
	Great—just great.
	It was a mad dash to put Tina’s panties back on then scoot her out the other end of the ivy wall, brush her off, and send her on her way releasing her mind once she was “walked” to the end of the alley.
	Would he have stuffed her virgin pussy had he the time—and a total lack of morals?  He didn’t know—he searched for answers but couldn’t achieve anything that rightly righted his right.  Clinging to the wooden fence hidden by the ivy wall at the opposite end of where his brothers and their friends were, Scott contemplated shaking his head.  He had jacked off onto Tina’s cunt, poked his way inside her until meeting her hymen—and had it not been for the intruding boys he may have busted that membrane and did away with his morals.
	Stephanie was ten—she was sucking his cock, he was eating out her pussy.
	Jan was ten—he was whipping his schlong out to her and having seriously torrid thoughts about stuffing her sweet face, fucking that sweet face, CUMMING on that sweet face!  Morals?  What morals?

	After the shirt was off,
	‘Take off your bra.’
	Slowly, making a bit of a face, Marsha undone her bra clasp and dropped the garment that hid her just beginning budding breasts.  She was topless.  Halfway there!  Scott’s cock was rocketing out of his pants!  Clothed and Marsha was “ok.”  In her swimsuit and she was a little better; naked and she was cute as could be!
	Honey brown hair that she preferred styled in twin pig tails off the side of her head—sometimes braided and sometimes just free flowing.  Scott tempted fate by whipping out his dick and jerking off inches from her face.
	The girl didn’t bat an eye, gush, or scream.
	He didn’t give the command “suck me”; instead, he poked his cock into her mouth and moved her head himself.  Then, as per desire, he moved his aching bone against her face for the provincial face fuck.  That was almost as good as fucking her mouth!
	Unable to stand it much longer he pulled his sister up,
	‘Take off your pants.’
	His voice was a bare whisper—transmitted well enough, though, by the mind controlling device in his trembling hand.  The girl slid down her knit pants and stood nicely in a nice pair of light lavender underwear.  Sperm was soiling the piss slit of Scott’s cock—just touching the member and there was explosions all over.
	‘Take off your panties!’
	In his room he had his sister’s panties, Claudia’s panties, Stephanie’s panties, and his Mom’s panties.  Yep, even his Mom’s.  The cad!  Each panty had sperm soilage; each panty was well fucked giving him much pleasure as he deeply thought of fucking the owner of those undies.
	Yep, even his Mom’s!
	Once Marsha was nude—Scott had no choice but to hug her.  He had to feel that ass!  His fingers went into her crack, fingered her hole, then he marched her over to the sofa having her lay over the overstuffed arm of said sofa.  The look on her ass totally blew his mind!
	More admiration—then touching.
	Had it not been for the girl’s mind being overwhelmed he would not be standing—and his balls would be in immense pain.  He marveled at the power of the electronic device—then he marveled at his sister’s nakedness.  On his knees he put his face right up to her crack—there was her hole, he pussy, everything.  Just a bare coverage of pubes concealed her snatch.  She was a virgin, too—duh!
	Breathing hard, trying to hold his breathing, Scott put his tongue to her hole.
	He didn’t know that in the world of perversion it was called Rim Jobbing.
	He licked the hole—just because.  His hands smoothed all over the girl’s ass flesh, then he stared and stared at her pussy.  In his mind he wanted to damn it all and fuck her!  But forethought put him in fear—what about the afterward?  When her mind was released back to herself—surely she would know something had happened to her?
	Placing his cock against her ass he humped.
	Up and down the crack, poking the hole, gliding up and down the perfectly puffy pussy, then seriously humping the ass very nearly poking his way in before the voices of his siblings in the nearby family room disturbed him.  Amazing!  All this while he had been doing the naughty with Marsha while sibs were present!
	Amazing!
 	Bold!
	Careless!
	Daring!
	Pulling up his clothes he left the naked Marsha laid out on the sofa in “sleep” mode.  In the family room he went to deal with the others.  Pete and Bobby were playing a board game while Jan yapped on the telephone.
	“Ok, guys, hit the bed.”
	The boys, of course, grumbled.
	“Mom and Dad’s orders.”
	The boys reluctantly shuffled off to their room—they wouldn’t go to bed but goof off there.  Scott didn’t care, so long as they weren’t in his hair.  Jan continued to yap on the phone—but caught Scott’s eye.  She blushed, grinned big, and concluded her call.
	The thing with Jan, though, was that she was willing—kinda sorta.
	But just how far was that “willing” willing to go?
	Let’s find out!
	A short deep blue dress the whimsical girl wore; he loved all his sisters, and brothers, but there was something special about Jan.  She eyed his bulge bulging in his pants.
	“It’s safe.” he told her.
	The pretty ten year old giggled, grinned, and blushed.
	Scott “whipped it out.”
	He didn’t seriously think that the girl would suck him—not willingly.
	She did, though, handle him.
	That was something he didn’t think she’d do, either.
	But she did.
	She grinned so big!  Her eyes were dazzling!  Her touch amazing!
	Just at the pivotal moment of oral copulation and the young girl shot back.  She couldn’t go thru with it.  Scott was disappointed but not undaunted.  “Lay down.” he told her (without using the EMAD.)  Curiously, what if one of the boys should traipse down the stairs to the living room and find Marsha laid out on the sofa—naked?  Or, better yet—what if for some reason Dad and Mom should wander home unexpectedly and unannounced? Hmmmm
	Didn’t happen but it coulda!
	Once Jan was down, Scott easily raised her legs to take a free gander at goodie place.  Jan seemed so far ok.  Scott proceeded.  His cock was busting, aching to get in a hole.  He moved one hand up and down her thigh—something he had actually seen his Dad do—but his Dad wasn’t molesting the girl just loving her as a normal daddy should do.
	Touching Jan’s crotch, though, got a reaction from the ten year old.  It wasn’t a bad reaction—just one of shock.  She pursed her lips and Scott hoped that the rapport that he had with the young girl would hold.  So far in their relationship she had never snitched on him; unlike Marsha.  Jan had even covered for him and he for her.
	Slowly and diligently he fingered the crotch of her panties to one side revealing her hairless poon.  Sperm jutted from his cock and the ache increased ten to the tenth power.  Jan pulled and held her legs back giving her brother the “ok; go ahead and molest me!” sign.
	Scott did just that—not much, a finger here, a finger there—a hotting desiring burgeoning with ever increasing lust.  With the panties pulled to one side there was her young cunny for him to adore.  And he adored it!  Then, taking a chance, he began tugging her panties up her upraised legs and off.
	Jan pursed her lips as if in concern but continued to be giddy.
	Scott stripped off all his clothes and positioned himself between his sister’s legs.  He wanted to fuck Marsha but Jan was a good choice, too.  Jan pulled her lips in tighter and changed her face to more concern.  Scott hesitated and laid his aching prong against her very virginal cunt.  There, like with Tina, he grinded until spewing a hellacious load.  Hellacious!  The first squirt shot up the child’s belly, the rest emptied onto her slit until there was no more.
	Back with Marsha—
	Apparently, there was a time issue with an overwhelmed mind and Scott barely made it back to his “sleeping” sister before it was too late.  He fondled her all over, fingered her, cupped her ass, and very nearly drove his ever present hard cock into her sex.
	But he knew that boning his sisters would leave an indelible mark upon them.  A broken-in pussy would be hard to ignore.  On how to erase a mind warped mind of the proceedings against them were elusive to Scott.  Too bad.  He was not put off by, though—
	Unable to score with his sisters there WAS another pussy in the house he could sink his cock in.  No, it wasn’t the seven year old Cindy—who was, by the way, up in her room down with a slight cold.  After Scott had sort of kind of had his way with Marsha and Jan—he did likewise with Cindy.  After fooling with Marsha a bit more, spanking her and finding that in doing so she was still oblivious to what was happening to her.  He spanked harder and got her to suck him before he penetrated her asshole.
	Claudia let him up her hole—it wasn’t all that what it was led to believe.  It was a hole, tight and snug and gave just the right amount of pleasure as did the other two holes.  But the butthole was a “dirt hole” and thusly, to Scott, not all that appealing.  But in lieu of the other two holes—the dirt hole would have to do.
	He was sure that when Marsha got her mind back she would probably realize something amiss with her asshole.  But being the girl she was; prissy, prime, and modest, she would most likely dismiss the sore hole as having taken a big crap too hard.  Both girls were cleaned up, dressed, and placed in their room and on their bed and once more to sleep (for Marsha.)
	Jan had her mind overwhelmed ‘cause she shared her room with Cindy and Scott didn’t think that even though they had a wondrous rapport—there was probably a line Jan wouldn’t cross.  And allowing her brother to have his way with their little sister was one such line.
	After Jan was laid out on her bed, naked, Scott got naked again and then—
	Cindy.
	Cindy was doped up with cold medicine and didn’t require any mind altering device intrusion.  Scott pulled the bed covers away—then paused.  Was he really going to molest his little unconscious sister?  Cindy wore a two piece pajama set, bright yellow with blue duckies all over them.  Not any more!  Easily and did Scott remove the garment finding matching bright yellow panties.
	His cock ached and screamed—penetration was the in thing and the only thing.  Ass fucking Marsha had been good but PUSSY was what his cock wanted.  Pussy.  Cindy remained quiet and still.  Scott opened her legs and “went down” on her before fingering her pussy until his cock was livid.  Like with Marsha and Jan, Scott laid his prick against the child’s cunt and humped a good hump.
	Pussy penetration, though, was still in high demand.
	Then, this happened—

	A couple of days later and a set of circumstances came about whereas Scott and his Mom were in the house—alone.  During the time he had straddled his sickly sister Cindy and the present—two days had past.  The nifty gadget for bending minds was put away.  He returned to his girlfriend (and her sister) and enjoyed his time with them.  To his surprise he found that Stephanie was no longer an anal virgin—sister Claudia was sodomizing the girl with candles or various sized dimensions, small diameter carrots and bananas, and what have you.
	To his further surprise—after both girls willingly sucked his cock, Claudia guided his schlong into Steph’s willing hole-in-the-ass.  It was still a tight fight despite the pre-fucking to stretch the anal muscle but it was a good go anyways.
	Then, his Mom.
	There are good places to fuck; bedroom being one, backseat of the car another.  Then the alternate places; bedroom floor, hallway, bathroom—in the shower and on the floor, stairway, sofa, kitchen floor, kitchen cabinet, kitchen table, backyard.
	Scott chose the kitchen and the kitchen table to assault—er, score his Mom.
	His MOM!
	OMG!  WTF!  TGIF!  AUKM!  BBQ!
	(Oh! My God!)  (What the Fuck!)  (Toes Go in First!)  (Are U Kidding Me!) 
	(Bitch!  Be Quiet!)
	In the kitchen while fussing with the crock pot for the evening meal, horny son, Scott, slipped up behind her and did the unthinkable—he zapped her with the EMAD.  He did!  He was a scoundrel—a nice boy, but a horny-horny scoundrel.
	His Mom wore turquoise pants of a diff style and texture than plain cotton or polyester.  Stepping up beside her he whispered “MOM!” but got no reaction.  That was a good thing.  He couldn’t remember rightly when the last time she had seen him naked—when he was little being given a bath; when he wet himself (as a little kid); hurt his boy parts?  There was one incident when he saw his Mom naked—while racing around with his brothers when he was ten he dashed unannounced into his parents’ room and there she was—naked.
	The image was forever implanted on his mind.
	As he got older he was able to put the image of his Mom standing naked in her room to rest but still—when wrapping her panties about his cock jerking off he thought of her—often.  He hadn’t started whacking himself until about age twelve.
	Still to make sure his Mom was firmly overwhelmed electronically, Scott brushed lightly her breasts.  First one, then the other.  Then he pressed himself right up against her.  With no reaction from the nearly 40 year old woman he began slipping his hands inside her pants.  Arlene Heyimhere made no moves whatsoever.  Scott held his breath while working her pants down—down—down.
	Off-pink panties she wore, full brief type.  Scott’s cock ached.  He suddenly thought of Claudia and deeply—deeply wanted to fuck her.  Then her sister, Stephanie.  Oh!  OH!  He saw himself sinking his prick not into her willingly shit hole but slamming into that super tight snug fitting cunt!
	He thought the very same for Cindy.
	This only caused Scott’s cock to pop.
	In extreme ache he pulled his throbbing bone out and rubbed it all over his Mom’s ass.  He trembled.  There was a shudder that was odd coming up from his toes.  He wanted to fuck his sister Marsha in the ass while watching her suck the cunt of Jan!  OH!
	The imagery was too much and not-so-slowly did he slid his Mom’s pinkish panties down.  As he did so he had to kneel and as the undies were worked down to her ankles—his face was right up against his Mom’s cool bare ass.  For a moment he could do nothing—no thoughts, no actions.
	Then, he turned his face whereas his nose went right into her crack!
	He loved there for another moment, just rolling his nose and then his tongue.  For some reason—he wanted to tongue her asshole!  He did!
	Then—something odd that Scott missed (he was too busy tonguing the alternate crack)—Arlene BENT OVER!  She did!  At first it wasn’t clear to the Unseen Intruder whether or not the woman had bent over the granite island herself or did her horny son do it?  Scott’s hands were on her hips but not in the form that would have guided her into the 45-degree angle.
	Scott parted the cheeks and “got after it!”  His tongue rimmed her rim, licked and lapped happily all over before the urgency from his cock demanded attention.  Standing up, Scott pressed his cock where his tongue had just been.  His cock went up and down the crack followed by serious poking to the asshole.  Rearing his head back, eyes closed, one hand guiding his invading prong, the other on his hip, Scott “I’m can’t believe I’m fucking my Mother!” Heyimhere began inching inward to his Mom’s dirt chamber.
	Good thing he had his eyes closed or he would have seen his Mom reach her hand back to pry a cheek!

	If you’re gonna be a dog…
	Not half way, not part way, not “just the head” but ALL the way in did Scott “hey I’m a dog” Heyimhere shove his meat pole.  ALL the way into his Mom’s cornhole.  And once in—she braced herself against the granite counter before her son put his hands on her hips and got down to the business that was sodomy.
	Scott pumped vigorously for several minutes with smoldering smoke wafting up from the illicit union as he did so (figuratively speaking).  A gusher shot of teenage spunk exploded from his cock splashing back onto his schlong and coating his balls as well.  He kept pumping—not noting his Mom’s shuddering, her grip on the counter, her reaction to being sodomized by her own son.
	The Unseen Intruding visitor made a check of the EMAD in his possession; it revealed that the woman against the counter was NOT—NOT—NOT under the influence of a minding device save for Dmitri’s.  Dmitri’s minding device was used only to warp the air around him thusly rendering him “invisible.”
	Scott pulled his dirty schlong out of his Mom’s ass; he heaved, sweated, and gawked at the coating on his cock and balls and the river of sperm drizzling out of his Mom’s hole.  Stepping out of his clothes he stumbled to the bathroom just off from the kitchen to “clean up.”	
	Arlene melted onto the counter.  She stood up, slung her head, fingered her hole, then fingered the other one.  Then, there was a gadget she had in the palm of her hand she slyly checked and pushed under the produce piled on the counter.  Dmitri later discovered that THAT device was an EMAD deterrent & preventer.  She had countered her son’s Device!

	When her naked son returned with a clean cock the woman resumed being mind blasted.  Scott operated his EMAD unawares it wasn’t working.  Scott’s EMAD gave no indication if whether or not the Device was operating or being countermanded.  Scott finished stripping his Mother nude then guided her to the kitchen table where he positioned her with her ass right on the edge.  Then, with his clean hard cock he glided it up and down before pushing it in.
	He could hold off no longer and it was also a chore for Arlene to keep herself from reacting to the presence of her son’s schlong.   Scott went in and moaned as his meaty beef stick entered ALL THE WAY IN.  He then began to pump and do so slowly.  He pulled out and humped the gash, poked back into the cunt that had bore him fourteen years prior, then pulled out to seriously grind his dick against the womanly snatch then drove back inward to complete the illicit deed just under three minutes.
	What a gusher!	
	Sperm literally exploded out of the womanly poon thoroughly coating Scott’s cock and balls.  The boy pumped furiously getting every ounce of pleasure that there was to get.  Arlene’s titties were amazing—the nipples were hard, the titty mound jiggled, and Arlene’s mouth was undulating.  There was an undeniable quiver as the finale was finalized.  Scott collapsed and slumped to a chair.  His Mom surreptitiously fingered her cummy steaming cunt.  Dim debated on how to bring the Mother and Son together without the son’s EMAD—that wasn’t working anyway.
	At the moment, it was better this way—the covert mission of letting her son believe he was being sneaky and underhanded using a mind controlling device enhanced their forbidden relationship.  It was a strange turn-on but Arlene did want her son to know about it—but not just yet.
	Then, to further blow his Mom’s mind AND the Unseen Intruder, Scott, after resting a bit, licked out his Mom’s cunt.  Scott—after resting five minutes or so LICKED OUT HIS MOM’S CUMMY CUNT!  His face went all over the fucked poon; he licked and nipped the lips, engulfed the whole snatch area then flicked his tongue into her gully before stuffing her box again for another serious four minute intense fuck.
	Wow!
	Wait!  There’s more, but!

	Oh that was some gooooood pussy!  Scott gave his all then trotted off to the bathroom again to shower.  Good thing; Dim wasn’t going to be able to hold off much longer.  And thankfully, HIS mind altering device was a little better than Scott’s; it easily mind zapped the deranged woman on the table allowing Dim to have his way with her, too.
	Turns out, she was in no way opposed to having sex with her son.
	That also went for Peter AND Bobby!
	Peter AND Bobby!
	Well!  Imagine that!  A strong Christian woman; she sang in the church choir; wore sensible clothing, donated to charity, donated blood, donated her time at a hospital and harbored deep seeded sexual desires for her three boys!  Fourteen year old Scott was one thing; Peter was eleven and Bobby was merely eight!
	Dim smiled, and after empty his love tool’s juices DEEP into her pussy began warping her mind with a little rewiring.  He also posed an inquiry:
	‘would you be upset if son (Scott) wanted sex from his sisters?’
	The answer wasn’t clear; it wasn’t NO! but also not YES!
	‘would it be alright of Scott to fuck sister Marsha?’
	A slight pause but, “Yes.” she said aloud.  Dim smiled and his cock languished in the woman’s very cummy cunt.  
	‘what about Jan?’
	A longer pause; she wasn’t so sure—in the mouth “Ok”, up the ass, “Maybe.”  But as for schlepping his salami into the ten year old’s pussy?  No.
	There was no need to ask about Scott having his way with seven year old Cindy.  Dim had his work cut out for him—it was a big family.  And they were damn lucky it was HE who was there in their midst and not The Strangler!  Had it been The Strangler! well, the family would get to have their way with one another and he unto them—then, cum the following morning and the family would be statistics.

	Interesting news of interest
	Scott did return to the Beefore household and screwed the brains out of both Claudia DJ and her sister, Stephanie.  The cad!  Butt boning was one thing; getting a blowjob was one thing; shoving your fuck stick into young pussy—WOW!  Dmitri was impressed—and also sticking his own fuck stick into the girls—along with Scott’s sister AND Mom!  WOW times two!
	Marsha was a good fuck; she was twelve, months away from being thirteen.
	Jan was a good fuck, too; she was ten but only four months away from being eleven.  Cindy was seven and half way to her eighth birthday.  Pussy, mouth, chest, asshole.  Stephanie and Cindy were “a little tight” but the snugness was dealt with and both horndog boys “had their way” regardless.
	Another horndog came into the mix; Dan-Dan, the well hung man—also Scott’s dad.  It had taken a little while to get to the architect but Dim did.  He figured that the man also harbored illicit thoughts about his family—and he was right!  

	One late morning, most the family was assembled in the living room being a family.  Dan Heyimhere was in the kitchen with daughter, Jan, discussing punishment.  Jan wore glasses and was supposed to wear them all the time—‘cept when bathing and sleeping.  Jan, though, did not always do so and one day while riding her bike into the drive way she rode it INTO the garage smashing it into a big portrait painting the kids had just finished paying for to present to their parents for their anniversary.
	Dan was, of course, glad his daughter wasn’t seriously hurt but the accident wouldn’t have happened had she been wearing her glasses like she was told to do so.
	“No more bike riding.” for awhile anyways (but kind hearted Jan had sold her bike to pay for a redo of the portrait.)
	Dan nodded but, “You still have to be punished.”
	Jan shrugged, “Ok.” and stood up.  She wore a nice blue dress, kind of simple fancy and mid-thigh length.  Her long light brown hair went right down to her butt crack!  She was a pretty girl and her Daddy held her hand moving her to his lap.  Jan laid down across the daddy lap placing her hands down onto the floor.  Dan caressed his daughter’s ass, smacked it (but not too hard), then raised the dress up to expose her powder blue panties.
	More caressing, more light smacking.
	Then,
	Dan slipped his hand down inside Jan’s panties and squeezed the flesh therein.  He made small circles before working the undies down.  The voices of the family in the other room were not a distraction.  Jan made no adverse reactions save for a bit of wiggling.
	SMACK!  One hard smack but that was all.  Daddy Dan delved his fingers into her crack, fingered her hole—fingered her hole—sodomized her hole.  Jan clenched and couldn’t help but wiggle which only earned her another SMACK!  Dan moved his hands all over the girl’s body under her dress with specific attention to her ass area.
	Then,
	Jan slid off of her Daddy’s lap and helped him fish out his cock from his pants.  She worked the mighty organ (which was handsomely more prominent than most manly schlongs); she grinned big and seemingly admired the might boner; then she kissed the glistening knob before going down on it.	
	After only a minute or so of intense sucking, Dan raised his child, hugged her, then moved her off to the adjoining family room—leaving her panties on the kitchen floor.  The rest of the family continued whatever they were doing in the other room.
	In the family room, Dan stripped off his slacks and dress shirt…
	“OH!  Daddy!” cried out Jan as her young asshole was fucked.
	Dan had his young child pinned against a large family section—having sex.  It was anal but it was still sex (according to the law).  Not all of his manly manhood was in the girl’s ass—it wouldn’t fit.  He pumped slowly, pulled out and humped the girl’s ass flesh then plunged back in for a dramatic finish.
	And he was just finishing when the rest of the family came waltzing in—Scott holding his sister’s panties in hand he had scooped up from the floor.  No one seemed overly shocked or even stunned or alarmed.  Scott was smiling and smiling big; he said “Why don’t we join them!?”
	One by one the family Heyimhere stripped off their clothes.
	Can we say orgy?  Thought you could…

*

	Dmitri was more than impressed with the Heyimhere family, and the Beefore family, too.  He had played a small part in their unnatural ways but for the most part they were already that way.  Arlene Heyimhere had long fantasized about sex with her boys; Dan-Dan the Well Hung Man had torrid thoughts of boning his girls; Claudia and Stephanie were a pair of naughty girls who enjoyed Scott’s cock.
	One day, while downtown in the City, Dmitri saw Dan and Claudia’s Dad going into a club.  A club for men.  A club for men!  Dim’s curiosity was piqued—and how!  After concluding his personal business he checked up on the Club finding there were no women and no one under eighteen in the Club.  It was a strange interior; not well illuminated, lots of rooms, open rooms, closed rooms, a couple of theatres, a lounge, and so on and so forth.
	Men.  Black, white, Asian, “other.”  Some were kinda fat, some were about average.  All were naked.  There were sex acts going on everywhere totally blowing Dim’s mind.  It would have been alright had there been young people there; young teens, young boys.  He wasn’t into “men”.
	He did find, finally, Dan and Rick—in a whirlpool with some other men.
	After awhile the two went to the lounge—naked, had a couple of drinks, then moved on to a private room.  Dim slipped in just in time; the two men embraced and began carrying on as gay men do.  It was a huge turn-off for Dim.  The two men then commenced to blowing one another followed by sodomy.  Dim made himself scarce—vomiting just outside as he was greatly repulsed by what he had saw.
	Later on and he wondered what the men’s families would think should they know?  Wow—what an eye-opener; two family men who had big families and were carrying on sexually-homosexually with one another!  Wow!
Eye opening experience
	Sex was Man on Top; a married man on top of a married woman.
	The exactness of the coupling was a little elusive but an idea was forming.
	Dogs had sex; so did the turtles and elephants at the zoo.
	It had been said that for whales in the ocean to have there had to be three whales; two for the coupling while the other swam around helping to keep them coupling.  According the Bible, sodomy was wrong (and rampant!)  The exactness of what sodomy was was also a little elusive.
	Cherry Bestoned came to realize that her knowledge of sex was seriously lacking.  And from what she heard—some of her friends seemed to know more about sex (and sex acts) than she did!  She was twelve, four months into her twelfth year of life.  She came to learn that there was more sex going on in church (her church) than at home (anyone’s home!)
	  Now, Cherry had a best friend, Kenny Budosboy.  They had been friends since they were little, kindergarten to be exact.  They had a strong friendship; they went camping together, hiking, fishing, swimming, and getting into trouble.  They were typical kids; mischief makers, helping puppies find homes, sneaking out of their homes to meet up in a park to watch a meteor shower at one o’clock in the morning.
	The two friends met up at their church which was non-demonational; all faiths could attend.  And since the terrible stuff that had happened at the Church by the River, lot of white folk had been coming to the usually mostly black church.  Didn’t bother Cherry or Kenny or most the black folk at the usually mostly black church.
	“HEY!” Cherry said brightening up as she saw her friend at the open courtyard just before services.
	“Hey.” Kenny said not as bright as his friend.
	“You’re mom said you’ve been sick.” Cherry said out of concern.
	Kenny sighed and nodded, “Yeah, something like that.”
	Cherry was a pretty girl; light chocolate skin, bright eyes, favorite color was blue, and she had an amazing smile.  Her friend, Kenny, was smartly dressed in slacks, dress shoes, dress shirt and tie.  His skin was a little darker; he was just a couple of inches taller, his hair cut short and he bore a single gold earring in one ear.  Cherry didn’t even have ONE!
	“Soooo, what’s been happening?” quizzed Cherry.
	“I-I don’t want to talk about it.” the boy stood with his hands stuffed in his pants’ pockets with his head bowed.
	A moment of silence between them; Mr. Poleick stepped out from the church’s enclosed foyer and began ringing his bell.  Services were minutes from starting.  Kenny sighed, he wasn’t much in the mood for “services.”
	“Wanna ditch?” Cherry said.
	“I guess so, where?”
	Cherry blushed, took his hand and began leading him opposite of their church’s entrance.
	“Hey, wait,” Kenny said, “I’m with my family, they’ll see me not there.”
	Cherry paused a moment, “Tell them we’re in children’s choir.” A lie.  Good Christian girl.
	Both kids ran off to their prospective parental units and fibbed.  Then they met up again and surreptitiously slipped out of sight.  Not far, just around the big church’s outer buildings to the furthest parking lot that butted against the back of a wilderness type park.
	After slipping under the lodge pole fencing and sneaking further into the wilderness—which wasn’t more than a few acres with a big lake in the middle; it was a protective piece of land for birds and other assorted animals to find haven, the kids came to a spot they frequented often (when ditching church.)
	“Soooo, what’s going on?” Cherry asked knowing that her friend hadn’t been sick but something else ailed him.
	“It’s embarrassing.” Kenny replied.
	“Oh.” Cherry said; then, after licking her lips, “Will you tell me if I tell you something embarrassing?”
	Kenny shrugged leaning against a large mostly dead oak tree, hands in his pockets, looking very dejected.
	“Well,” Cherry supplied, “I farted in class.” Just like that, ‘I farted in class.’
	Kenny’s eyes bulged, “Whoa!” then, “When did this happen?”
	“Last week—while YOU were sick!”
	“What happened?  Who knows?”
	“Everyone practically, “giggled Cherry, “most the boys know it was me but think sort of that it was Jimmy Markhead; the girls think mostly it was me, too, but also blame Jimmy, too.”  then,
	“So what happened to you?”
	“I got a boner!”
	Just like that “I got a boner!”
	“Wow!” then, “What was it like?”
	Kenny was still embarrassed.  There was a lot of things he shared with his friend, but their relationship had come to a point where some things seemed awkward and possibly too private to share.  Being twelve was awkward.
	Kenny stood totally embarrassed.
	“What happened?  Did something ELSE happen?”
	Kenny nodded, “Yeah, I got caught.”
	“Oh my gosh!”
	“The first time was by my Mom.”
	“The FIRST time!?” Cherry squeaked.
	“Yeah, the first time and my Mom caught me red handed in the bathroom; I was in there too long and so she just opened the door thinking I was sick.”  He shook his head sadly, “I wish I had of been.”
	“What—what were you doing?” Cherry asked not really knowing.
	Kenny sighed and dropped his shoulders, “You know—what guys do.”
	No, she didn’t know “what guys do.” She gave him a blank stare conveying as much, too.  This only made it worse for Kenny who hem-hawed around trying to find a coy way of explaining the fact that he had been jerking off.
	“It’s ok, you can tell me.” Sure, she was his bestest-best friend—forever, but could he tell her that he was masturbating?
	“I was doing this!” he said almost angrily (and made the motion of a guy jerking off.)
	“Oh.” then, “What was it like?  I mean, did it feel good?” an inquiring mind wanted to know.
	“Jeeze, Cherry!” Kenny bitched and turned his back to her.
	A moment came between them, “I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
	Kenny said nothing.
	“I don’t have what you have so I was just curious.” then, “The first time?”
	Kenny nodded but continued to keep his back to her.
	“How many times did you do it—and get caught?”
	Kenny gulped, “Well, just a couple of times—the one time in the bathroom and then in my room.” pause, then, “My mom walked in on me (again) while I was doing it.” He failed to mention, though, that he was caught butt naked humping his bed.
	Being of a Christian family—this didn’t go over well.
	“Come on,” Cherry said trying to cheer up her friend and change the subject, “let’s go see the ducks.”
	The kids took to a nature path and made way to the unconstructed park’s lake.  There were wild ducks there, geese, ganders, peacocks, and other assorted small animals.  Way on the other side was a fisherman with a girl, a granddaughter presumably.  No one else was about.
	“I gotta pee.” Cherry announced.
	Kenny giggled.
	“What?” Cherry asked.
	“Do you know that girls can pee standing up?” he was a plethora of information.
	Cherry gave him a look—you know that look girls can give.
	“I don’t think so—” then, “How?”
	“Take your underwear off and stay standing, then pee!” just like that!
	Cherry thought it over, shook her head, then thought it over—thought it over—then thought it over some more.
	“No way.” she concluded.
	“Try it.” giggled and blushed Kenny.
	Then, off-handedly, “You wanna watch me?” she was smiling giving Kenny the impression that she was on the level.  In the past, while camping together, hiking, and going off into the wilderness and the need to pee came up—they were modest enough to do their business privately.
	Now, at twelve years of age, things were changing.
	Surprising Kenny, Cherry tugged down her panties and stepped out of them.
	Then, continuing to surprise her friend she had known some seven years, she spread her stance, hiked up her dress, and commenced to peeing.  She did!  Kenny was bombed; his mouth hung open and he could only stare and stare and stare.  And get hard-hard-hard.
	Agony came onto the young boy’s face.  After Cherry had finished her pee,
	“What’s the matter?” she said pushing down her dress and smoothing it out.
	“I-I never, I’ve seen a girl—I mean, you and me and, well—” babble babble
	Cherry winced as the morning sun got brighter—and hotter.  She moved to the interior of the wilderness where there was more protection and shade.
	“Don’t you gotta pee?” she asked coyly.
	Kenny shrugged—then got red in the face saying “I-I sort of cant.”
	Cherry cocked her head and eyed her friend’s “boy parts” area.
	“How come?”
	“Exactly!” he said making a joke only a boy would know.
	A moment passed, then another, then another.  Kenny checked his watch.
	“You got a date?” Cherry asked noting that he had “checked his watch” three times so far.
	“Well, we ought to get back pretty soon, I guess.”
	Cherry looked a little glum.  “Oh.” she said sounding dejected.
	“What?” asked Kenny, “What did I do?” it wasn’t WHAT he did but what he didn’t.
	“Nothing.” Cherry answered.  Typical female response which means “You’re dead.”
	“I’m sorry,” Kenny said, “this has been all really—strange and weird for me.  I-I didn’t mean to share that stuff about me with you—I-I—”
	“You can share ANYTHING with me.” Cherry said.
	Kenny sighed then said, “I’ve got one of those boners now.”
	Cherry brightened up, “Can I see it?”  wow.
	Wow—he wasn’t expecting that.
	Was she serious?
	“Really?” he asked, “You want to see it?  Really?”
	The goofy girl shrugged, “Sure, why not?”
	Sure—why not!?
	Sooooo, Kenny slowly at first unzipped his Sunday dress slacks, then fished out his penis from within his tidy-whiteys.  And there it was.  Cherry smiled, cocked her head, admired the proud prong—it was hard and though he was merely twelve he had a significant cock.
	Kenny was embarrassed—for about five seconds.  Then he proudly stroked his more than average cock, flopped it, and entered into a new relationship level with Cherry.  Cherry giggled,
	“Can I touch it?”
	Kenny felt a little embarrassment sneak back in but quickly got over it and stood like Superman—hands on his hips, head up proud, shoulders reared back—girlfriend touching his schlong.
	And from touching to stroking.
	And from stroking to kissing.
	And from kissing—no, she didn’t suck.  That was yucky.  She just kissed the head and gushed big time giggling and blushing.  Standing back trying to calm herself from discomfiture she smiled ear to ear and with her hands over her face like a little kid she peeked at her friend with the amazing cock.
	“Too bad that old man is there.” Kenny said with his typical gravely boy voice.
	“Why?”
	“Well, we could go skinny dipping!”
	Cherry laughed.  Then,
	“If we go out to Stanis-Tippleton Quarry we could go swimming naked there!”
	“That’s a long way.” Kenny said.
	“We could take the bus.”  The girl had thought this out!
	Of course, no busses ran on a Sunday.
	The heat was a beginning to become a bit much so the two miscreants sidestepped off to where it was a little more shade and thusly cooler.  Kenny’s cock remained steadfastly OUT and still dramatically hard.
	“Can you show me what you do?”
	“What I do?”
	“Yeah, that thing you did when you got caught.”
	“Oh.” Kenny was a little put off about that—he had gotten a yelling and chastising for out and out whacking off.  A beating for bed fucking.
	Something was gonna happen there under the shade of the gathered birch, elm, and mulberry trees when something else was happening across the lake.  A girl about ten or so had come onto the scene; apparently the granddaughter.  The grandfather placed his fishing pole on a stand by the lake’s shore and turned his attention on the girl.
	The girl backed up to the lone picnic table—and lowered her pants!
	Off-yellow pants that went just to the knees, simple shoes, and simple top almost matching the pants; she had curly brown hair to her shoulders, and had a bit of titty.  The grandpa hugged the girl, patted her back and smoothed his hands over her butt before hoisting her up onto the table.  The girl laid down and the grandpa pulled her pants AND panties off.  The girl undone her shirt and opened it.  The grandpa opened the girl’s legs and “went down” on her.
	“WHOA!” exclaimed Kenny—but not loud enough to be heard.  He slipped his cock back inside his trousers—but Cherry fished it back out and stroked it while nestled up snug against him.  Kenny’s eyes were fastened on the old man and the girl.
	Grandpa Jeb Scamhouse, 68, deliciously licked and licked out his ten year old granddaughter’s pussy.  She was mostly willing—mostly.  He had something on her so she put up with the abuse.  Gripping the sides of the table it was an enduring abuse and whatever he had on her must have been a good one!
	The old man stood and unhitched his jeans pushing them down along with his boxers.
	“Oh my God!” whispered harshly Cherry.
	“Looks like he’s gonna boff her.” Colloquial term for “fuck.”
	Cherry had stopped stroking Kenny’s cock and had gripped it.  As the grandpa got up into position and seemed to be indeed “boffing” the young girl on the table, Kenny reached back as much as he could to rub/caress Cherry’s ass.  His cock was ready to exlode!  He needed relief and moved around to be behind his girl and tried for some Back Door Banditry.
	Cherry was game but her hole was closed.
	Kenny wasn’t deterred and humped her ass just the same; Cherry reached for (and got!) his cock to rub it against (of all places) her pussy!  It was “closed”, too, but receptive enough for grinding against.  She frigged herself with the other but was concerned for the little girl on the table.
	The grandpa got his rocks off in record time; he pulled out and slapped his schlong against the girl’s poon, gouged it up and down before masturbating furiously; then, the little girl came off onto her knee before her Grandpa’s aged pole so as he could hump her sweet face to complete the deed.
	Just as Kenny was about to “get some” Cherry tensed up turning her head towards their church.
	“What?” Kenny asked.
	“I hear my Mom!”
	“Shit.”
	The kids dressed and dashed back the way they had come pausing at the fence when seeing indeed Cherry’s parental unit standing at the stairs leading into the back parking lot.
	She wore a seriously pink outfit with a HUGE Southern style pink hat and fanning herself with a huge Japanese fan.  She called for Cherry two more times before turning in a huff.
	“I am in soooo much trouble!” Cherry said.
	As soon as the woman was out of sight the kids made a maddening dash back to the church property.
	“We better break up,” Kenny suggested, “and not be seen together.”
	“Why?” Cherry asked.
	“If we’re seen together—we’ll never be seen together again!” he was sweating and didn’t make much sense and there wasn’t time to explain.  He took off and Cherry slipped into the main sanctuary via a side door.
	When she met up with her Mom minutes later there was a stern scolding but nothing more as Cherry was a smooth liar explaining about the children’s choir, bathroom, she got “sick”, and so on.  She was believed as Cherry had such a smile and face that seldom could be mistaken for a fibber.

*

Does this story have an ending?
(nope!)
	One week later, Saturday, Bus 201 to Rural Route 6 Stanis-Tippleton Corners.  An hour and a half drive; cost:  $1.50 (one way.)  Once there, the kids made firstly to the Mr. Freeze & Ms. Frosty Ice Cream Emporium.  For five bucks you got a hell of a deal in ice cream, freezes, shakes, malteds and brain freezes.  The day was hot—as per the norm for summer type time in that particular part of the country.  Humid and muggy, too.  
	After filling up on a year’s worth of ice cream and ice cream related treats, the two kids struck off for Quaking Aspen—five hundred foot recreation area (the highest point in Tippleton located at on the outskirts of Stanis.)  A good little walk; the kids cut across a meadow, paused at the fence where some horses were and petted some, laughed at the donkeys, then finally arrived at the quarry.
	A large area long since abandoned surrounded by towering granite boulders and other assorted boulders and left over mining equipment.  In the middle was a lake fed by an underground spring.
	The evidence of “teenagers” was all over; beer cans, campfires, clothes.
	“Pretty deep, huh?” Cherry asked.  Neither had been to the quarry before—they had only heard about it.
	Kenny was curious and a little apprehensive.
	No one of concern knew where exactly Cherry and Kenny were!
	“Well,” drawled Kenny surmising, “we’re here—we’ve come all this way.”
	Cherry nodded, “Yeah, we’ve come all this way.”
	“Best make the best of it.”
	Just a week earlier and Kenny’s dick had been kissed on by the pretty girl.
	A week earlier and Kenny had had his dick up against the girl’s ass!
	All during the week he had thought of nothing more than boning his friend!
	It had been a long week.  They had snuck out at midnight to meet up—once in her backyard, once at the park, once in the alley.  Each time they had almost—almost done something.  Each time she had gripped his dick, jacked it, kissed it, fondled his balls; each time he had gotten his throbbing cock against her ass, poked her hole, rubbed up and down her pussy.
	But each time there was a cat fight, a dog barking, a helicopter buzzing—all times bringing out peoples from their homes.  At the park a roving park ranger’s flashlight caused the naked kids to scuttle in a bush and become nearly discovered.  Each time Cherry was too freaked out to continue.
	Bummer (for Kenny.)
	There was some concern about the water—it was clear revealing that it was also deep.  Being kind of “out of the way” if something should go wrong—it was a hell of a trek to get help.  Kenny saw Cherry’s concern—and the only way to brighten her up was—
	“BONZAI!” he said enhancing the Japanese word—and butt bare assed naked he jumped off a small protruding rock into the refreshing water barrel jump style.  Cherry did laugh at him then shucked her own clothes and did likewise.  Both were fairly good swimmers but Cherry preferred swimming whereas she could “touch bottom” to shoot herself back to the top—so she swam close to the edge where there were handholds to grab hold of.
	Kenny, meanwhile, forgot the real reason of coming out to the remote swimming hole and dove to the bottom, shot to the surface—without touching the bottom, swum across the diameter of the pool, and enjoyed swimming naked—which was a rarity for the boy.
	Cherry dared herself and swam out to the middle then hurriedly returned to the edge and also enjoyed swimming—naked.
	After a while, though, both kids got a little tired from their frolicking and climbed out of the water to bask in the sun on the shore.  They lay still for awhile, then rolled over to be baked on their backsides.
	They discussed school, summer, their teachers, their new teachers, friends, family, and so on.  At length, Kenny leaned up on his elbows—his eyes looking over his naked friend.  She had nice form!  Most times he only got to see her naked in the middle of the night.  During the daylight and she was ten times better!
	Cherry noticed his noticing.  She smiled, blushed, giggled and grinned; then rolled onto her side facing him.  The boy checked her out all the more grinning just as big as she was.
	“I heard that some kids got caught doing it in the pool at the hotel.” She referred to the group of teenagers who had graduated high school and as a reward they invaded a hotel in their town and went skinny dipping—in the middle of the night!
	Kenny grinned.
	“I didn’t know you could “do it” in water?”
	Kenny didn’t either; he shrugged, then smiled bigger.
	“You wanna try?”
	Cherry was surprisingly game.
	Kenny jumped into the water while Cherry slid in from the shore.
	As the kids came together and awkwardly tried “coupling”—voices were heard.  Kenny and Cherry hurriedly splashed out of the water, grabbed their clothes and dashed to a nearby overhanging rock that had a slight concave to its underside allowing concealment.  A group of teens came up on the scene—they wasted no time in getting naked and diving into the pool; then later on making a campfire and bringing out the weed, beer, and whiskey.
	Only when the sun finally kissed the horizon did Cherry and Kenny were able to make a dash for the bus stop—they were way late and almost missed the last bus back to their town.  Deeply disappointed—especially Kenny, the kids sat in some silence for the long bus ride back.  He had almost scored.  Almost.
	All the while they had hid in the almost cave they had watched the teens smoke and drink—and fuck.  Three girls, four boys.  All three girls got hammered by all four boys.  Pussy, mouth, asshole.  It was an orgy.  In the water the girls rode the boys (shoulders) and played around very nearly almost nearly seeing the hiding NAKED Cherry and Kenny.
	What Kenny told his parents about his day and why he was out of touch and late getting home wasn’t known; Cherry told her parents that she had spent the afternoon helping a little kid get back home; he was lost after chasing his puppy.  Her parents bought and were proud of their daughter but still scolded her for not checking in.
	Cherry half expected Kenny to come calling—he didn’t, though.
	The next day she met with her beau—
	“Did you get in trouble?” she asked.
	“Yeah.” He said but shrugged it off and the two made a day goofing off with their friends at the mall.  Cherry knew that he had gotten into “trouble”; probably more than a yelling, too.  He didn’t seem too bothered but Cherry had known him since they were little—he was hiding what had actually happened which was probably a spanking.  She felt bad for him—going to the swimming hole was her idea.
	After the day of socializing—nothing.  Kenny and Cherry parted with—
	“I better get home.” From Kenny and he took off doing so.  Cherry knew he had gotten into BIG trouble.  Somehow she had to make it up to him.  Somehow.
	That opportunity came along some days later—
	Kenny was all smiles when the two met up at the library.
	“What’s with you?” Cherry asked.
	“Looky what I got!” he said showing her some keys.
	“What are those?”
	“Keys—” Kenny grinned, “keys to the church!”

	It was Friday, and on Saturdays, a family member of the church volunteered to clean the church for the next day’s services.  Kenny’s family was due to do the cleaning and so they had the keys.  Correction, Kenny had the keys.
	“What are you planning?” Cherry asked not really knowing but knowing he was up to something.
	“Let’s blow this joint and go to the church!”
	It was Friday and no one would be there—and along with the keys he had the security access codes, too.  Going to the library was just a meeting up place; checking in with the librarian was essential as their parents would confer with her to see for sure if their children had been there.  It wasn’t “I don’t trust you” issue but security.  Yeah, right…
	Watching the janitor go out the side door—that had an alarm to go off when anyone else but the janitor went out, Kenny and Cherry dashed out right behind him.  Then they walked the few blocks to their community church and noted two cars in the “A” parking lot by the trees.  One car was Ms. Whittite, she taught Sunday School to 4rth grade level kids and did some other volunteer work.  She was part Chinese, tall, long-long jet black hair, skinny body.
	The other car was not a car but a full size van parked at an angle.  It was Mr. Jordan McGivemesome; he was just a member of the church, part African-American with some Mexican in him, too.  He was nice, a little taller than Ms. Whittite, slender, spoke a bunch of languages, and someone said he was Scottish.
	Ms. Whittite wore a nice summer dress, light blue with light and dark blue flowers all over them.  The dress was a little tight and mid thigh length.  She was a gorgeous woman and Kenny liked her—she smelled good!
	Ms. Whittite sat on the hood of her car; leaned against it with arms folded light heartedly talking to Mr. McGivemesome.  Jordan M was dressed in dress slacks (brown) and a dress shirt (no tie.)
	After a few minutes of chattering there was suddenly a change up.
	Ms. Whittite came up off of the car’s hood she had been leaning her super fine butt against and went right up against Mr. Jordan.  He hugged her and at first it looked like a friendly thing and their conversation was concluding.  Not so.  Mr. Jordan slipped his hands down to Ms. Kim’s ass and gave it a squeeze.
	“What the fu—” blurted Kenny.
	“Whoa!” Cherry said.
	Then—THEN—Ms. Kim Whittite began rubbing Mr. Jordan Givemesome’s cock!  Cherry couldn’t believe what she was seeing—neither could Kenny.  Ms. Kim put her fingers about the bulge in Mr. Jordan’s slacks and seemingly was masturbating him!  Ms. Kim’s husband was some sort of businessman who worked downtown; he was a Sunday school teacher, too.
	Then the woman worked Mr. Jordan’s cock out of his slacks and underwear and boldly gripped the manly dick, stroked it in a masturbatory way before leaning down, bending over, and SUCKING IT!
	“HOLY SHIT!” blurted Cherry.
	“Wow!” exclaimed Kenny.
	While Mr. Jordon got his weeny waxed he pulled up Ms. Kim’s dress.  His hands went all over the woman’s butt with at length his hands going inside her non-matching green tinted panties.
	Soon and Mr. Jordan was laying down width wise in his van’s passenger area with his slacks and undies at his ankles.  Ms. Kim worked off her dress, bra, and shucked her panties to lay stark nude on the man not her husband.
	Cherry and Kenny had excellent viewing and saw rightly Mr. Jordan’s cock sliding UP into Ms. Kim’s cunt.  His hands tightly gripped the woman’s lily white smooth ass, her legs straddling his waist area fully taking his manhood.  It seemed intense.  Kim Whittite bounced herself up and down slinging her head all about making a bunch of noises that neither Cherry or Kenny were sure were good or not.
	Two-three-four minutes—the fuck was incredible and Kenny was hard-hard-hard.  Hiding in the shrubs made things difficult but concealment was optimum.  And once more Kenny moved into position—behind his girl with his cock pressed against her ass.  It would have been had she been in a dress or something but she was in jeans.
	Cherry did reach behind her, found her boyfriend’s cock, played with it, then undone her jeans pushing them down.  Kenny slipped his cock inside the crotch of her panties and got busy with the humping of her cunt.
	Kenny’s hard cock was very nearly making vaginal penetration.  Very nearly.  And Cherry didn’t seem to mind—especially ‘cause she had a gripe on her beau’s beautiful cock practically guiding it into her!
	Cherry was a little concerned—that was Mr. Jordan and he shouldn’t be doing what he was doing with Brittany—let alone her mother!  Kenny was cumming.  His cock was right up against Cherry’s cunt (but still not IN).  He grinded and grinded; her peach colored panties kind of kept the sensation alive and his cock in place.
	A few minutes later and the man rolled Ms. Kim off of him.  Kenny’s eyes feasted on Ms. Kim’s cummy cunt.  His own cock was incredibly hard and very nearly—very nearly impaling Cherry’s cunt.  Very nearly.  Cherry’s eyes were locked onto Mr. Jordan’s cock.
 	Then a car came onto the lot causing the man to make a mad scramble whereas he closed the van’s door.  The car went out to the park on the far side of the church; a man got out and went into the park to one of the tables.  He got something off of a table, got back in the car and left.
	Minutes later and the door of Mr. Jordan’s van opened; he was dressed and helped re-dress Ms. Kim and put her back to the same spot she had been some many minutes earlier.  Then, a minute later and it seemed like Ms. Kim was talking like nothing sexual had happened at all!  Hmmmm  well, good thing The Strangler! wasn’t there.  Mr. Jordan hugged Kim—and nothing else followed.
 	Ms. Kim got back into her car, Mr. Jordan got into his van and they left leaving Kenny and Cherry bewildered beyond belief.

	Once the coast/lot was clear the kids scurried quickly to the church and to the side door.  Kenny made a mad dash to the security control pad to input the code before the alarm went off.
	When the green light came on—all was good.
	Cherry stood beside Kenny blushing and grinning.
	Kenny was just grinning.
	“Soooo, what do we do?” Cherry asked still grinning and blushing.
	Kenny was too embarrassed to say.
	Cherry looked around the church body; it was a good sized church having on a good Sunday service as many as 600 peoples!  Nice and cool inside, there was the stage with the band equipment, piano, and chairs for the staff and choir.
	“It’s kind of creepy.” Cherry said.
	“I know how to make it more livelier.” Kenny said unable to wipe the smile off his handsome black face.
	“How?” Cherry asked not picking up on the boy’s statement.
	“Let’s take off our clothes!”
	Oh.
	Well there’s that…
	Kenny was out of his clothes first—naturally.
	Cherry hesitated—mostly out of embarrassment of undressing inside her church.  She said, “We’re going to Hell!” giggled then removed her clothes to stand just as nude as Kenny.
	Kenny leaned against the end of the pew row where his family sat—grinding his butt crack right against the smooth curved wood.  Cherry blushed big placing her hands to her face in awkward shame.
	“So whatta wanna do?” Kenny asked—his cock was rock solid hard.
	There had been an ample amount of cum in Cherry’s panties—and some in Kenny’s tidy whiteys.  Cherry was very embarrassed but said “Race ya to the stage!”
	Kenny was game.
	The kids ran amok (nakedly) inside the church; to the stage and up the main aisle to the foyer; then to the bathrooms and back to the stage where Kenny sat nakedly in the seat his father, an assistant, sat.  Then, he marched up to the podium where he took the microphone and rubbed it against his sac!
	He did!
	Cherry giggled to the point of whereas she almost peed herself!
	Then Kenny turned around placing the microphone to his butthole.
	He tried to fart but it wasn’t happening.
	“Here,” he said to Cherry, “you do something.”
	Cherry took the object but wasn’t sure what to do—or why.
	“Just think,” Kenny said grinning, “come Sunday morning and Preacher up here yapping!” he busted out laughing as he saw the burly man talking into the microphone.  Cherry then joined him and took the speaking device rubbing it against her pussy!
	Then Kenny turned looking at the baptismal pool above the area where the choir sat/stood.  “Something I’ve always wanted to do.” Kenny said beamingly.
	“What’s that?” Cherry asked.
	Kenny didn’t answer but ran up to the baptismal; it was a large square pool a few feet up from the choir area having a portion visible to the audience.  It was accessible from behind the great white stucco wall.  Kenny stretched up almost climbing up but lost his footing on the back of one of the chairs and took a tumble to the stage.  Cherry rushed to his aid but he was alright—just damaged his pride.
	“Maybe you ought to use the keys.” Suggested Cherry.
	Kenny nodded, “Good idea.”
	Cherry thought he was just going to go swimming.
	Not quite.
	Once inside the area unseen from the rest of the church body, Kenny went up the stairs to the water tank and seemingly—seemingly suggested the fact that he was going to pee in it!
	Upon seeing this, Cherry quipped,
	“Uhm, I got something better we can do!” and she slid herself into the cold—very cold water.
	Kenny grinned—he couldn’t quit grinning, and joined her.
	The water sloshed; Kenny finally farted, and the two naked reprobates came together in a hug.  By the time the two kissed (their first kissed by the way) the water had stopped sloshing.  All that time they had just held one another staring into the other’s eyes.  Thoughts to their own.  When they finally brought their lips together—Kenny’s hands had slipped down to cup Cherry’s ass.  His throbbing hard cock went pressingly right up against her.
	Cherry moved the hard dong down between her legs.
	Then they were kissing.
	Deeply and passionately.
	It was pretty intense and the two began to get frisky.
	There were steps leading into the tank, one on each side.  Cherry sat her butt down on the middle step and Kenny guided his cock into her pussy.  First time!  Despite the cold water, Kenny hot cock and Cherry’s hot cunt paved the way for fucking.  There was a noticeable sharp pain and a little discomfort as Kenny’s schlong invaded her sex but Cherry dealt with it and tolerated it.
	The first time was not so grand as Cherry thought.
	What Kenny’s thoughts were on the matter were not known.
	The sloshing of the water got to be a bit of a problem but there was not stopping as Kenny got into the grove of “getting into the groove!”  Kenny fucked and fucked until some minutes later there was an explosion like never before had he experienced.  And it was grand!
	Cherry received a bit of pleasure at that point, too.
	And there wasn’t a lot of “cherry” juice to spoil things, either.

	After splashing around, fucking around, the kids left the baptismal tank, dried off, then scrambled back to the sanctuary where right on the stage—and right below the picture of the Savior they commenced to Round Two.  It was a little better that time but when Cherry saw the portrait of Christ—she got a little creeped out.
	Kenny was cool and they switched places—Kenny taking his girl “doggie-style” and he understood what that really meant!  His hands went all over the girl’s body, his cock slammed her cunt—slammed her cunt—slammed her cunt until blowing a magnificent load in just under three minutes work.
	Then they coupled in the pew of their families.
	Once in the foyer.
	Another doggie-style in the center aisle.
	Again on the stage then someone came to the church breaking their frolic up.  The kids scrambled into their clothes—a little sticky and a lot sore.  They managed to slip out of the church unseen (well, save for the Unseen spy) and make for their prospective homes.  Cherry pleased herself in her shower then once more on her bed.  She had been fucked and fucked well that day.  Whew!