Adventures of August Moone
Book II
Roadtrips & Sidetrips 
Chapter 2
Startling Revelations

	It didn’t take long to notice that there was something a little amiss with the kiddies.  What exactly wasn’t certain, but clearly and surely there was something.  She was reminded of how the kids August Moone had had earlier, their “zombie” like state of mind & being.  But Danny Tanner didn’t have a Device like August.
	She felt a little uncomfortable, and the main reason why was ‘cause she was still clothed.  Everyone else was nude.  There was a tingling feeling still lingering in her cunny, but her moral issues were struggling to be heard and not ignored.
	Danny had just completed humping on his ten year old daughter, she was true cutey, curly blond hair, dimples, dazzling blue eyes, fresh faced and very innocent.  On her back on the coffee table she had lain while sisters Donna Jolene and Michelle held her legs back.  Then the talk show host from sunny California guided his schlong against the child’s cunny.  With his eyes closed, head tilted back he began pushing the head into her body until he had done so, then he began guiding in the rest of the manly fatherly cock.
	A few minutes of serious humping and then the climatic moment arrived, he spewed great gobs of man juice into her, pulled out and Donna Joe took command of sucking his cock clean.  Michelle had the task of cleaning her sister’s cunny, Michelle was merely five.
	Thereafter Danny took a small breather, just a small one, massaging his cock and answering some of Charlotte’s questions.  Poignant questions like “how’d you find this place” and “why did you come here”  along with how long have you been here” and “how did you find out about this place” were virtually ignored.
	Charlotte got the point, she was annoyed but understood that perhaps some things were better left unsaid.  She was beginning to get miffed, at August Moone--he was apparently trusting her to the extreme.  Since their encounter and her “awakening” he had trusted her explicitly.  In the bathrooms of the eateries along their journey she could left messages, she could have whispered to a waitress, something.
	But she did not.
	She didn’t do a lot of things that moral woman would have supposed to have done.  She didn’t truly endorse or condone the maddening behavior of a one August Moone, she cursed him for awakening that demon resting within her own soul.
	Presently Danny mumbled something to his eldest daughter Donna and she hefted up the littlest daughter, Michelle.  Middle sister Stephanie then gripped her daddy’s cock and helped guide it up into Michelle as Donna eased the child onto the daddy’s lap.  Danny gripped his young daughter’s ass and penetrated her young opening.  Charlotte got another case of the heebie-jeebies.  It was difficult to rationalize, but then again--she herself had once given a bath, a little more than a bath, to a wee lad Michelle’s age, Charlotte had undressed and bathed with the boy, fondled his wares and sucked them.  The boy had peed on her and she had let the let suck her breasts.
	She had been a wife three years at the time and it was NOT her first time doing such.  When she was nigh but sixteen years of age she had taken as many as three boys at once, none of which had reached their ninth birthdays.  Each boy was in a “hole” humping and stuffing her until they (and she) couldn’t stand it and either quit or orgasmed.
	Fondly she recalled a lad named Garret.  Garret was twelve and delivered the morning paper.  He delivered Charlotte the “special delivery.”  Five years after being married to a wonderful man, a little one in the nursery, Charlotte had her hands full of twelve year old testicles.  The boy’s balls were virtually pube free, she loved that feeling of baldness, caressing his bald smooth ass, gliding her hand up and down his shaft.  She was enamored with watching his spunk shoot out of his cock and splash onto her chest.  She usually sucked him back to stiffness and then helped put his cock into that place it desired to be the most.
	She blinked her eyes and looked to her right, the Chinese boy was on Becky fucking steadily away while she sucked off on the Mexican lad standing up against the sofa.
	Standing awaiting his turn was the foot shifting black boy.  He was okay, not overly handsome, but nice enough just the same.  He had a cock and that was all that mattered.
	At one time in her life Charlotte had been tempted by a girlfriend to molest a horse.  A horse!  Both girls were in their mid 20s at college and loved riding.  When the girlfriend got a little tipsy from drinking wine coolers, she often got bizarre and overly horny.  Charlotte had no idea.  Not that she opposed, on more than one occasion the two had stripped down to the bare skin and made out--it was a new experience for them, Charlotte anyways.
	She HAD gripped her horse’s cock, her girlfriend had actually “kissed” the head of the huge dangling schlong.  She managed to masturbate the horse into a frenzy--the girlfriend did--and the horse shot gobs and gobs of hot horse cum all over her.
	Charlotte couldn’t go it, but she DID get a little frisky with a neighbor’s black Labrador, whacking the animal into a state of orgasmic pleasure and then letting the dog cum all over her hand.  A few wine coolers herself and she was letting the dog fuck her.  Only once, but it was enough.  It was one of those incidences she had strove to keep locked up and buried, never to resurface ever again.
	Thanks August!

	Her hand came to rest on the Chinese boy’s ass, her fingers came between his smooth cheeks to clutch at his hairless tezzies.  The boy never missed a beat and only mildly looked back to see who was pleasing him.  Charlotte watched as Danny finally unloaded up into his youngest child; Donna having the task of cleaning her father’s cock while Michelle was brought up to his face and he took the task of cleaning her cunny.
	Charlotte plunged her finger into the China boy’s hole and sodomized him thusly, she then found her other hand furiously working away at her torrid cunny.  The black boy was watching her.  Charlotte lay back, Becky began to gyrate and go into orgasmic conniptions.  
	“Wanna help?” Char asked of the black fella.  The boy shrugged and looked to Charlotte, his little pecker was semi stiff, he was a boy about eight years young.  Charlotte began undoing her button blouse.  She kicked off her sandals and the boy somewhat on his own volition began tugging down Charlotte’s baggy new jeans.
	She awoke from her stupor to see on the floor Danny and Becky in a 69er, Becky on top with Donna licking Becky’s ass crack.  Michelle and Stephanie were curled up in a corner under a rug asleep.  The Mexican lad and Chinese boy were snuggled together on the loveseat sound to sleep.  The black boy was humping madly into Charlotte’s womanness.  He wasn’t quite capable of cumming, but the feeling was there and that counted just as much.
	How long the event had been going on Char wasn’t sure, she had blacked out the episode, her mind racing as she brought up more and more pieces of her narly past.  In essence she was of no better than August, she did not have no room to pass any sort of judgment against him whatsoever.
	
	Again, thanks to August Moone and his damnedable Device, Charlotte revisited a portion of her past she had buried and forgotten.  While as a teen babysitting for three precocious boys, triplets they were, and all of about seven years young, she had managed somehow to get locked in the bathroom with them.
	Something to do with the doorknob.  The boys thought it was hilarious.  Charlotte did not.  The boys’ parents wouldn’t be home for hours, no one was about, she tried calling out thru the bathroom window above the bathtub, but no one (apparently) had heard her.
	So she was stuck.
	They made the best of it, but in due time someone was going to have to make use of the bathroom in the manner in which it was intended.  For the time being Charlotte held back her own needs, she was thirteen and on the verge of deciding about her future, er, in the scope of being a sexual perv or being a normal teen person and keeping to the straight and narrow and morally just.
	At length “Charles” had to pee.  “I gotta go!” he complained and made a fuss, crossing legs and in serious “need.”  It was no biggie to pee with his brothers, but Charlotte was present.
	Charlotte got into the tub and drew the vinyl curtain, she waited, waited, and then heard the distinct sound of “pee” hitting the toilet water.  She tried desperately to dismiss the image of the boy with his willy out peeing; but already the image was burned there--along with several other from the recent year; a month before she had been in the company of a five year old.  They had taken a walk and when the lad had gotten tired she carried him, he fondled her breasts unknowingly.  
	She had gotten “whet” due to his fondling of her, and when HE had to pee, she helped him.  She fondled his schlong and soon had worked his little kiddie jeans and underwear down, rubbed his ass.  
	There were other incidents, many others.  She sighed in the tub and suddenly there was a tremendous “fart” sound.  She knew it was not a real fart.  She shook her head and kept her giggle to herself.  ’Boys!’
	Suddenly the vinyl curtain was drawn back and Charlotte looked, startled and caught off guard.  She saw young Charles slipping his willy back into his pants, his brother making jest, making fart sounds, and being boys.
	She averted her gaze, Charles zipped up--and then screamed.
	Charlotte was out of the tub quick and found young Charles had done what many a young boy usually done to himself at one point or another in his life--got his willy caught in the zipper.
	Carefully Charlotte unzipped and then carefully massaged the semi frightened boy.  David and Sam came to look, they were quiet, Charles was frightened that his willy had been zipped off!
	Charles liked having his schlong massaged.  It didn’t take long before it was getting somewhat stiff.  Charlotte was good, she was a pro.  She gingerly caressed his ass and noticed that David & Sam seemed to be fidgety, David rubbing the heel of his hand into his groin.
	Knowing that she was stepping over the line she helped the boys undress, totally nude.  She sat on the floor, legs out, the boys flanking her, Charles directly before her.  (While she thought back on this time, the black boy pounded her pussy and made her quite excited.)
	She did suck on Charles, it seemed the thing to do.  With her hands on his young tender ass she gobbled his schlong, sucking and making him feel way better.  She suck up on his tender nuggets, too.  David and Sam wanted their turns, too--this after realizing that she was not actually biting off their brother’s cock!
	 It wasn’t long before that “urge” came to Charlotte.  No, the other urge, the original one.  She thought to herself, well, might as well--I’ve gone this far.
	“Boys,” she said in beginning explanation, “I’ve got to--uhm--well, you see,” and she indicated with a nod to the toilet.  She looked to the boys and the three precocious (nude) boys started at her with little clue.  “I gotta pee!” she told them blatantly.
	The boys giggled and blushed but she noted that they didn’t move.  To each one she turned them about, but she really didn’t care if they saw her or not.  She undone her turquoise jeans and slid them with her panties just to her knees.  On the toilet she sat and commenced to quickly peeing.  She hunched over and strove to keep her asshole tightly shut and not to let go any offensive or obnoxious “gasses.”  she would never hear the end of it with the boys…
	She did find her fingers diddling her poon, it was wet, but not with her pee.  Her eyes rested on the nude boys, not one--not two, but THREE lovely handsome naked young boys.  They adored her and loved it when she came to babysit them.  
	“Charlotte?” piped Sam.
	“Yeah?” Charlotte answered him reaching for the toilet paper.
	“I gotta pee!”

					****

	“I gotta pee.” the statement rang in her head, she then realized that it was verbal and Danny Tanner of San Francisco got up, carrying little Michelle and exited the room.  The black boy who had been pegging her finally had had enough and lay off on the floor curled up.  Charlotte found her cunny tremendously still quivering in delights not yet attained.
	On the sofa with her was the other two boys, she found her self rubbing the China boy’s ass, fondling his bald wares.  She closed her eyes; in the bathroom with David, Sam, and Charles she had stripped herself naked, the boys helping.  Then, each boy sat on her chest and played with her breasts, tweaking her nipples and humping.  
	The boys each in turn were moved down to her “business.”  Each boy who was NOT humping her titties took a long gander at her poon, they tuched it, fingered it, and made Charlotte almost cum right then and there.  She didn’t cum until each boy was “in” her humping away.
	She had no regrets.  She enjoyed it and that was that.
	She wasn’t sure where or when or how or even why, but somewhere along her way she became an advocate against sexual depravity.  She helped persecute/prosecute those who were doing the exact same thing as she had done.  But she had turned her back on those narly doings and changed her ways, buried those awful things she had done and become a pillar of the community.
	She had virtually--nearly forgotten them successfully.
	The a one August Moone came into her life.
	She cursed him.  She sat up from her fondling the Chinese boy and drew her legs up.
	“You okay?” asked a quirky voice.  Becky.  Becky was there, all naked and all, sliding into place on the sofa, pulling a very sleepy and worn out (sexually) China boy onto her.
	“I-I guess I’m still coping.” or something or other.
	“Been there, done that.” smiled the slender talk show host.  
	“I know it’s new,” she continued, “but it’s a freedom like no other.  To be able to do what you want, to be able to get away with it, indulgence is everything here.”
	“But--”
	“But you worry about the morals.  Or lack thereof.”
	“Something like that.”
	“Don’t worry about those, those things will only bring you down and drive you crazy.” then, “Just deal with it, you like being naughty, right?”
	Charlotte shrugged, she wasn’t 100% convinced of that, but she was marginally sure for some certainty that she was.
	“Don’t let it get you down, you can be whoever you want to be--”
	“I don’t think it’s that easy.” Charlotte said putting her foot down.
	“No, it’s not.”
	This wasn’t helping.  Charlotte didn’t know what she was to do, could she endorse such frivolity?  How could she condone one portion of her life while trumpeting the advocacy against pornography in another!?  That would be two-faced!  She could not recall being naughty with her own children, or being overly sexually perverse with her husband.  At church picnics, the station get-together there were some times when her eyes lingered on a youth, “his package.”  
	While camping she had casually spied on boys peeing in the woods.
	She was a good mother, a good wife.  She kept her sexuality to herself, she was mildly aware that her boys masturbated, that was no biggie.  She closed her eyes tight trying to conjure up any information that may suggest that she was more curious than she ought to be about them.
	But there was nothing there to indicate such.
	Danny returned and deposited little Michelle with her sisters.  He fiddled with the video tape machine and camera.  It was a nuance that was most curious to Charlotte.  “Uhm, mind if I ask what that is all about?”
	“Well,” Becky said with an evil smile, “It’s how we’re paying for our vacation, a new RV, and our retirement account.”
	Charlotte didn’t get it.  They look on her blank face told the tale.
	“We make a video of what we do in here, Ten Bears, Dancing Eagle make copies of the tape and sell them to certain customers, we make a ton of money!” Danny proudly pronounced.
	Charlotte was ashen.  ‘Holy shit!’ it WAS worse than she thought.
	Exploitation.  Pure and simple.  She was at a loss and didn’t know what to say or do or anything.
	Charlotte then had a question, “Uhm, how is it that the kids are so--”
	“Willing?” chirped Becky.  She made a quizzing face and nod to Danny to take up the reins on that one.  He reached into a cloth backpack by the table holding the video equipment.  In his hand was a vile, an ampule.  It was a pale yellow liquid, about three ounces worth.  
	“A drug?” 
	“Yep,” then, “some Indian thing they’ve concocted here, it works great!” he smiled.  Inside Charlotte was furious, the kids were knocked up, drugged, and then forced into participating in sexual romps.  They, too, were traded and probably sold!  It was bigger than anything she could have ever imagined.

Flashback
	When she was thirteen and in the seventh grade, there came a time towards the end of the school year that was upsetting to Charlotte, she was failing science.  She had tried and tried but hadn’t put her best efforts into the projects or exams.  Now the crucial crunch time was nearing and it appeared that no matter what she did, she was doomed to fail the class.
	In that she could do a make up thru the summer, but that would screw up her summer plans--not to mention her parents’ plans--they would have to reschedule the summer vacation.
	That wouldn’t do.
	And what if she flunked the summer school portion, too!?
	That wouldn’t do, either.
	It was already determined that even managing to Ace the pre-test to the Final, she wasn’t going to make it.  She needed extra credit (and in the worst way.)  but even that said maybe.  Her teacher, Mr. McDowel was a nice enough man, but hard.  He was big on essays, a proper prospective on English in the essays, and taught science regardless.
	But, there was a rumor.  Charlotte normally didn’t pay much attention to rumors, unless they were decidedly juicy and about someone she knew.  This particular rumor came to her from an upperclassman who was a babysitting friend and knew of Char’s plight.
	“Mr. McDowel might be able to help you, he helped me.” quoted the friend one day after school.
	“Like how, how much extra credit do I have to do?” the girls walked home from the neighborhood school and Charlotte was desperate, she hadn’t told her folks her dilemma and the crunch time was near upon them.
	“Well, basically, just one extra credit should do it.”
	“But I’m like fifty points down--”
	“That doesn’t matter.” spoke the girl, she then went on to explain what kind of “extra credit” Mr. McDowel preferred to help wayward girls failing his class at crunch time.
	It was appalling.  There was no way, NO WAY she was going to go thru what Sherry had done.
	But once home her mother presented her with the brochures of  their wondrous trek across the country, taking two whole months and ending in Orlando, Florida at Walt Disney World for two weeks there.  Char’s mother was so pleased that all the finances and time off had worked out.  “Nothing can get in our way this year!” 
	Charlotte offered a weak smile then flopped onto her bed.  She sighed deeply, “Oh well,” she said to herself, “I’ve done worse.”

Extra Credit
	She couldn’t believe what she was contemplating--but there was just no other way, no way she could ace the class the regular way.  And there was just no way she could screw up the summer plans, it just wouldn’t do.  It would be alright, her contemplation if the subject of her contemplation was better looking.
	Instead, her science teacher was a middle aged black man, balding, wore glasses, wore golf clothes, and not always smiled and made things easy to understand.  He laughed and told jokes, and made insinuations about sex and doing the horizontal bop in public places, but he was not Char’s ideal man to “contemplate” with.
	There were other choices in that regard, Mr. Smithers, her English teacher, she liked him.  A lot.  He was handsome, tall, good hair, perfect teeth, and gave her the benefit of the doubt when she had flubbed up on a test.
	But no, her contemplation was with Mr. McDowel, her middle aged science teacher.
	So, as the saying goes--Timing is Everything.  Charlotte waited until after school, she knew Mr. McDowel’s time schedule and knew that most often he lingered in his class to help the struggling.  Char waited outside until the class was clear, it was 3:30, the janitors were beginning to make their rounds, she was a little timid--no, correction--A LOT timid.
	She peeked into the classroom and saw the man erasing stuff from the chalkboard.  Cautiously she came in, clutching her books and going over in her mind how this was to work itself out.  She hadn’t a clue.
	“Hello Ms. Wade, what can I do for you?”  he was congenial, clapped his hands together--a cloud of chalk dust sprang up.
	Charlotte came only part way into the room, a part of her--mostly her legs and good sense, was ready to bolt and just deal with the after affects.
	“Well, I was kinda hoping--”
	“To pass my class?” he said smiling.  He seemed to be in a pretty good mood, he had cracked some dirty jokes in the morning class and seemed rather contented despite the mundaneness of teaching science to lame junior high school students.
	McDowel sat down and opened his grade book, “You’re in my 4rth period class, right?”  Char came daringly closer, gulping and knew already that there was no way she could pass his class, getting an A on the next quiz and next test before the final just wasn’t going to help, even aceing the final wouldn’t help.  She was already too far behind.
	“Well,” McDowel said shaking his head, he knew too, “it don’t look too good.”
	“Any extra credit or anything?” Charlotte squeaked.
	“Well, you could, but you should have done this a long time ago, at the beginning of the semester when your grades were slipping.”
	“I know.” Char said hanging her head, maybe he would pity her and pass her anyways?
	He leaned back and began yapping about a good summer school program that would help.
	Summer School!  Oh no!  that wouldn’t do, in her young mind she saw her mother & father, and how pissed off they were going to be because of her.  Canceling the summer vacation plans would be a nightmare--for them and then for her!
	She came up to the desk and looked at her piss poor performance.  
	“I can give you credit for showing up in class and turning in the assignments--” McDowel said, “but then again, you didn’t always do that, did you.”
	It was back to HER-HER-HER.  She rolled her eyes, she had ditched the class a couple of times to go skinny dipping with some boys, a run out to the beach with some high school boys, and just to chill out peacefully at home--with some boys.
	Homework assignments, she didn’t know how to explain that one.
	She sighed, it was hopeless.  But not entirely.
	“Well, I-I was kinda wondering if maybe possibly I-I could do a special assignment, a special extra credit.”
	Her words hung in the cool air of the room, she could smell the ammonia and knew that the janitors were just down the hall.
	“Special extra credit?” mouthed Mr. McDowel.  He languished in his chair, musing, and running his eyes up and down Charlotte’s young teenage frame.
	“Did you hear about this “special extra credit” from some one?”
	“Y-yes, yes, a blue jay told me that I should see a raven about a train.”
	Code words.
	Charlotte leaned against the desk, up against a drawer, butt facing the chalkboard rail.  She stared out into the room, still clutching her books and being very unsure about the whole situation.
	McDowel licked his lips and adjusted himself in his chair.  Char saw her mother and father sitting in the front row with disappointing looks upon their faces:  no cross country RV trip, no Walt Disney World.
	Charlotte bowed her head somewhat angled her ass to her Mr. McDowel.
	The middle aged black man teaching science to lame junior high kids took the offering, gently caressing her ass with one hand while massaging his growing bone in the other.  He then stood up and Charlotte stopped breathing.  She could feel the presence of his manly schlong against her ass, his hands to her hips.  He then whispered into her ears, “Gotta close the door.”
	Char took a breather, how had the other girls gone thru with it!?  Surely they must have been as scared as she.  There were no details provided when she learned the code phrase, and Sherry hadn’t been much help either--not saying exactly what she herself had done, only that “we did it on his desk and in his chair.”  Charlotte had asked if they had gotten totally naked, to wit Sherry replied, “Just me.”	
	Just me.  Charlotte couldn’t see her self stripped down, butt bare assed naked in the classroom.  On one side of the class, opposite the door, there was a bank of window.  They were angled down, small individual panes.  They opened into a grassy area that was fifteen feet or so to the next building.  It was a closed area, only open at one end that led out to a football field.
	McDowel returned, coming up behind Charlotte, pressing himself against her, hands on her hips, gently gliding up her sides.
	“Relax!  Relax!” he cooed to her.
	“I’m trying.” Charlotte said almost to tears.  She shook back the emotion, she was not an angel, far from it.  She had been with high school boys, at her house and off to the beach.  She had gotten ripped (drunk) and woke up butt bare assed naked.  And no boys around.  It was mid afternoon in a quiet cove.  She found a nude beach nearby and some 60s hippies helped her in her plight and got her home.
	Two weeks later and she had some other high school boys at her home, in the pool and Jacuzzi, drinking and fucking, smoking and fucking, eating and fucking and just plain fucking.
	And then there was the business of her shenanigans with the little boys in her charge.  So what was the problem with Mr. McDowel?  He was her teacher, a man, an OLD man.  Being black had nothing to do with it, but he was married, had kids, and was her father’s age!
	“Are you okay with this?”
	Charlotte nodded.  She wasn’t but she had to be.
	“It’s cool.”
	“I know, you’ve never done anything like this before.”
	Charlotte shook her head that she hadn’t.  not quite.
	“You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want.”
	“But--but my grades--”
	“Yes, your grades suck--”
	“So if I suck you then I can get a passing grade?”
	The words were out of her mouth before he brain had time to contemplate them.
	“Works for me!” jeered the teacher.  His hands roamed up and down her young frame, coming underneath her arms to her breasts.  Her found the nipples and tweaked them, Charlotte gushed and felt her cunny tighten up.  How far could she go, how far was she willing to go?  
	But she had to pass his class, and if giving the old black fart a blow job--well, so be it.  She gave her head a toss and McDowel leaned back, stepped back to place his butt against the chalk rail.  He wore lime green golf slacks with a multi checkered shirt that had not one hint of green in it.
	Charlotte gathered her strength, turned, and faced him.  She had seen her father nude a couple of times, no biggie.  She had heard her parents fucking.  She had been with high school boys, jocks most of them, so nudity wasn’t a big issue with her.
	Sucking a man’s cock was.  The oldest cock she had toyed with was possibly eighteen.  Mr. McDowel was twice that and then some.  She could see his bulge already, one hand gripped the chalk rail behind him, the other methodically massaged the growing bulge.
	Char came to a crossroads.  A simple blowjob, could she get away with just giving him head?  Probably not.  As deep in grade hell as she was she needed to go the full nine yards.
	Where to start?  Damn that Sherry!
	McDowel’s eyes eyed her, waiting.  He knew the teenager was timid, it was a big step and he wasn’t going to mess it up.
	At length Char just rested her butt on the desk and began undoing her blouse.  She knew that she should have chosen better clothing for the day, stuff less complicated--a dress outfit that could be removed in one fell swoop.
	She checked over her shoulder to the open area, no one was there, just a few birds.  With her blouse open she popped open her bra, it had a clasp in the front and so her lovely tender barely there thirteen year old breasts were blatantly there to be exposed for viewing.
	Mr. McDowel continued wait, playing it out fully, just in case this was a set up.  It annoyed Charlotte, but she understood, even at her young age.  So it was till her move.  McDowel only moved his hand against his growing bulge.  Her blouse and bra came off and lay behind her, then she sucked her shoes and undone her turquoise jeans.  Her green tinted panties were bikini style and McDowel feasted upon them, especially her bulging muffin.
	Her jeans slid down just so, down to her knees.  She kept her panties on, she was definitely frightened at this point.  McDowel came forward, nodding with approval and smiling.  Again his hands came to her hips, again his manly bulge pressed against her body.  His eyes never left her naked breasts.
	The events that transpired thereafter were vague, but she knew what she had done just the same.  She hadn’t “sucked” him, but her pussy did.  McDowel pawed at her young breasts then nextly she realized that she was up on his desk, her pants and panties on the floor.  She was butt bare assed naked, McDowel’s schlong buried to the hilt in her teenage cunny.  Her books flopped off onto the floor, along with virtually everything else on the desk.
	Charlotte had taken male cock that was eighteen years old, but McDowel was much older, mid 40s.  His cock was bigger, it filled her cunny to the max!  She was partially appalled by the horrendous act, but then, too, she was ultimately satisfied--sexually speaking.
	She was aghast at finding herself so sexually fulfilled.  It was supposed to be horrible, horribly wrong, horribly distensible.  McDowel humped her for several minutes, she herself humping back, clinging to him while his manly schlong thrilled her in ways she thought impossible.  Her slutty ways with the high school boys had been one thing, five boys in one afternoon from sophomore to senior had fucked her relentlessly.  She had thought it could have not gotten any better.
	But McDowel’s cock, it was HUGE, he was HUNG, like a horse!
	The shivers of orgasm flooded her almost from the onset of his cock entering her.  She felt his bouncing black balls slapping/slamming up against her taint.  The fulfillment of sexually bliss was only moments away.
	But it lingered many moments thereafter.
	McDowel pulled out, smacked his monstrous cock against her drenched pussy, then collapsed into his old fashioned antique teacher’s chair, cum still oozing from his cock’s piss slit.  He was awash in a sheen layer of sex sweat.  Charlotte couldn’t do anything, she was exhausted, her pussy was still quaking, the experience would be a lingering tingling sensation for some time to cum--come.
	She frigged her hot torrid box, trying to satisfy it to some extent to allow her to gather herself and then go the fuck home.  It was nearly four o’clock, she had homework and chores, and her mom would be home soon.
	Could she live with herself afterwards?  Having orgies with high school boys, being sexually promiscuous was one thing, getting laid by your school teacher was something else.
	Suddenly, Mr. McDowel was up, standing up, fondling his cock and balls.  He wasn’t too terribly unappealing, the age was all in his face, he was slender with a slight “belly.”  and he had a cock.  A horse cock.  It was slowly returning to life, Charlotte knew what that meant.  She wasn’t too totally opposed…
	McDowel approached her, took the head of his glisten knob and glided it up and down Charlotte’s teenage twat, smacked the lips and poked the head inside the love entrance, THEN, he gripped her body and turned her over.  Only a few times had Char allowed herself for anal penetration.  She wasn’t too much into that route.  But Mr. McDowel was.
	He poked her backdoor, Charlotte sprawled out over the top of the desk, clinging to the edges while the science teacher defiled her in so many ways.  On the floor lay a picture of McDowel’s family, his tall wife smiling in a blue turquoise-like dress, holding a handsome five year old boy in a Sunday school suit, beside her a lovely young girl about eight or so in a rose red dress smiling with styled hair and very pretty.  Just behind the little girl another girl about twelve or so, a green dress and very elegant features.
	Charlotte blocked her mind about the family, closed her eyes and felt the presence of McDowel’s cock gliding up into her asshole.  He gripped her hips and commenced sodomy.

					******

	“There you are!” 
	Her thoughts were disturbed, August Moone made an appearance.
	“Been looking for you.” he said with a smile, he waltzed into the room, cum dripping from his schlong.  She didn’t need to ask what he had been doing.  August didn’t need to ask what SHE had been doing, either; between her legs was the Chinese boy, pumping steadily with Char’s hands clamped to his lily white Chinese ass.  Beside her on the loveseat the black fella put it to Becky while on his knees at her face she sucked on the Mexican boy!
	On the coffee on her back lay sweet little Stephanie Tanner, straddling her face was her equally drugged older sister Donna.  Stephanie was licking her sister’s teenage snatch while daddy Danny pumped into Steph’s cunt.  August got an instant erection.  He smiled and nodded to Danny.  The two men shook hands and August looked over the delightful girls, then selected little Michelle.
	Charlotte closed her eyes, blocking out whatever August would do to the little child as well as the image of what she had done with Mr. McDowel.  She concentrated on the young boy in her pussy.
	McDowel.  August.  Josh Hammand, Tim Jones, and dozen of other MEN, men who had scrogged their children, other peoples children.  Men she had rallied against to drive out of the community or send to prison.  Her eyes closed tighter, she cursed herself, August, McDowel.
	After the sodomizing of her backdoor, McDowel spanked her with his hands as well as his manly cock.  He turned her over one more time and went down on her, licking her cummy cunt.  Thereafter and laid his cock against her aching trembling cunt and re-fucked her until it was a quarter after the hour of four.
	The man was relentless.  But he was also pleasing.  Her pussy quaked, quivvered, and came repeatedly like never before, and only a few times since.  When done and done, McDowl cleaned his cock with her panties and then wiped down Char’s pussy as well.
	He then sipped on some bottled water before finding his grade book.
	Charlotte had mixed feelings, lots of them.  She hated the ordeal, despised the son-of-a-bitch and the horrible situation she had put herself in.  McDowel did erase her bad grades not turned into the office, replacing them with passing grades, boosting her GPA and thusly allowing her to continue to the next grade level without visiting summer school.
	The weeks that followed were difficult to be in his class, she flubbed up seriously badly on a quiz, she knew it.  But when the quiz came back to her she had aced it!
	She wondered if she were obligated to do “extra credit” again for Mr. McDowel, but she didn’t and she passed anyways.
	She opened her eyes, China boy had “finished” and was occupying her lap, “resting.”  Becky had switched, she was now on top with her ass pooched upwards, her hold gleaming with her personal juices.  She sucked tenaciously on the black boy’s cock, the Mexican youth was fondling his aching prick standing off to one side.
	On the chair across the room August sat with little Michelle on his lap, his cock languishing against the child’s lily-lily white ass, wads of cum oozing from it.  How young was too young, for August--for Danny?  For Ten Bears, any man?  
	It was confusing, to her she enjoyed a good romp sexually with a boy, but couldn’t see herself with a lad younger than five.  But even at five--there wasn’t really much that could be done--but she loved fondling the boy’s bald balls, rubbing and caressing his nude body, and sucking on his little willy.
	But a boy of four, three, TWO!?  She couldn’t see herself doing that.  But what did it matter?  She actually preferred boys a little older, ten at least, and twelve.  She loved watching them play with themselves and shooting their cum, she loved watching them fuck--each other or a girl or her.
	But Men--she had this undeniable problem with men fooling around sexually with girls in the same age bracket--girls as young as five, or younger.  She couldn’t get it, what was the problem?  Why was it okay for HER to molest little boys, but not okay for a MAN to do the same to a little girl of the same age?  
	She saw it as horrendous and the most vilest thing a MAN could do.
	August had turned little Michelle about, keeping her on his naked lap, his cock had gone flaccid, cum still dripping from it.  The evidence was clear on little Michelle’s snatch, she had been well fucked--repeatedly.  Her daddy, Danny Tanner, pulled out of his daughter Donna he had in a doggie-style position on the floor and crawled over to lick on Michelle’s cunt, holding her legs out and devouring her pussy until his rock hard cum dripping cock was at full strength.  August held the child in place while her daddy put his cock into her and fucked her.

	“We’re going to go to the pool, wanna come?” Becky asked cheerfully.
	“Pool?”
	“Yeah, there’s a great underground pool that everyone goes to, a community thing.  It has heated areas and it a great place to relax.”
	Danny had finished his deplorable business with his child, scooped her up and tickled her, a finger up her butt, a tongue into her six year old snatch.   The child giggled and Danny the loving father cuddled her, gathered his teenage daughter Donna Joe and ten year old Stephanie, Becky herded the boys and they left.
	August flopped down onto the sofa with a confused Charlotte.
	“You okay?”
	“No, not really.” and she wasn’t.  this new environment was going to take a little getting used to.
	“Would it help if I said I was sorry?”
	“Fuck you.” she replied.
	August said nothing.  He kept to himself, though his shoulder did touch hers.  There were a few options, he considered them all then dismissed them.  At length he simply stood up and took her hand, “Come on.” he told her.
	“Where to, now?”
	“You need to relax.”