August Moone
Timing is Everything
Chapter 21
Mountain Music

	It was a daze he awoke in, a sickly one at that.  He faintly recalled the experience in the green sea, the “transition” sea.  That was all.  Bile and other inside bodily fluids filled his throat and nose.  He couldn’t move--not even.  This was a part of the “transition” he didn’t care for.  He didn’t know why, not exactly, but assumed that it was due in part to his migrating from one time period to the next.  That was understandable, he still didn’t like it, though.
	When his senses came to him some time later he took to note that he was once more in a forest.  But it was sparse, BIG trees, pines and cedars with a few elms.  It would take a while longer to notice anything else.
	He heard the familiar forest critter sounds--squirrels, chipmunks, birds.
	He felt the wind gently blowing through the boughs of the trees.
	He still felt nauseous.
	More time would be needed before he was even able to roll over onto his back.  Again, every fiber of his being was like on fire, a tingling sensation running rampant thru his body, mostly in the tips of his toes and fingers; even his hair hurt!  And it felt like, too, that there was a huge weight settled on him, back and chest.  It was hard to breathe.
	With a busting headache he finally pulled himself together, noting that the HUD/Device seemed to be off-line, naturally.  He vomited, a lot, retching until he had no more to give but to cough up his nuts.  He fell a few times, noting that he fell less often if he weren’t heading down hill.
	But there were LOTS of hills wherever the hell he was at.  
	It took a little more time to come to a stout tree, hang on to it and take a longer stronger look around.  With a big sigh he noted that evening type time was coming on.  He smelled no fires, saw and heard nothing leading him to believe that civilization was anywhere’s about.  Casually he wondered if migrating thru time was solely limited to one specific geographic location--like North America--he would hate to wind up in some communist country, or some frozen/barren wasteland, some remote island, in the middle of a war, skirmish, etc.
	He didn’t believe he was in a war, on some remote island, certainly not in a frozen wasteland.  He was on a mountain, somewhere in North America he was reasonable certain of that.  And he was naked.  
	Gathering himself he proceeded offward once more, a stout stick helped steady him.  He soon came to a babbling creek, that helped.  It was ice cold, though so he only took a few drinks.  The scent of smoke in the air alerted him that something was up.  What he didn’t know, a campfire or a forest fire.
	He followed the creek down a ways, finding that the scent got stronger.  He saw one deer and some bear shit, he got bitched at by an otter and a blue jay.  He heard no other “voices” but carefully made his way along as stealthfully as possible.
	At length he came to a small clearing at the creek, an old-old-old-old pickup (circa 1930ish) was close by, it had some sort of canvas tent attached to it, it was an old blue color and August determined that it was a Ford.
	There was a makeshift picnic table, not professionally made.  A small campfire, fishing poles la cane poles leaning up against the truck.  The area was quaint and serene--and quietly on the table was a young ten year old girl, her shirt pulled up to expose her flat chest and perky nipples.  Her pants were off on the ground, her white brief panties dangling off of an ankle as an aged man in his 60s pumped away furiously between her legs.
	The girl clung to the edge of the table, saying nothing but making facial expressions now and then.  The old man, possibly her grandpa, pumped, humped, and concentrated on fucking.  He was naked save for an old blue shirt he wore but it was unbuttoned just the same.
	Finally the old codger got his nut; he strained, his old schlong buried to the hilt in his granddaughter’s pussy.  He flexed, jutted, strained and finally pumped his all to get his all then he withdrew, laying his cock against the girl’s pussy.  
	The old man gripped the table, drenched in his sweat, he looked down to the girl, nodded and said nothing.  Slowly he began to diddle the girl’s pussy, specifically his spunk, then he placed said cum laden finger up to his granddaughter’s mouth.  August watched in subtle glee as the girl sucked the finger clean.  She then was prompted to come off of the table and to her knees.  She then partook of her grandfather’s cock and masturbated it a moment before wrapping her sweet young lips about the cum shooting schlong and sucking it.
	Thereafter the girl and man retired to the back of the truck.  August could only assume.  He was too tired, his mind too frapped or he would have spied in on them.  Instead he mosied on down the creek.  He shoulda spied…
					*****

	After spending the night out he vowed that he would find civilization, somewhere somehow.  He was cold, chilled, hungry, and naked.  That left him very vulnerable to the pesky insects who sought his body as a fine dinning establishment.
	Come the morning he was on the move, seeking civilization.
	Twice he thought he heard the sounds of some old worn out engine of some old worn out vehicle.  Once he saw a glimmer of some old worn out vehicle moving along a road he couldn’t see.  It was down below him, the woods were tight, rough, and not kind to a nude body.
	He smelled smoke wafting along on the air again, heard voices carried along it, too.  Another vehicle trudged along unseen but heard, scrambling to find it he fell--fell into a ravine that nearly killed him.  He received a concussion, broke his arm and badly sprained his ankle.  Then there were the minor wounds, gouges, scrapes and numerous other hurtie-owies.  (his whole life was hurtie-owies.)
	He lay very-very still at the bottom of the steep gully.  He doubted that even clothes would have helped, ‘cept more protection to his naughty bits.  The blistering sun came to bake and baste him, he couldn’t move so his bare backside got the brunt of the abuse.  But vowing that he would NOT die in some godforsaken way, alone (and not knowing where in Time he was) he pulled/pushed himself up the side of the “V” shaped gully.  
	He was totally disorientated and couldn’t remember where the road was he had been aiming at earlier.  He stumbled and hurt himself even more, coming to rest by a large stump.  When his senses came to him he found that the stump had a hollow cave to it, in the hallow was a jug, an old porcelain jug with a cork stopper.
	Booze.  The fumes alone burned/singed his eyebrows off.
	But it was liquid and he was parched.
	Hmmmm
	He nearly choked to death, just a small jigger-swig about did him in.
	He put the jug back and found to his surprise that he DID feel a little better.  He found another surprise, a gun.  Well, actually a rifle.  It was old, not ancient, not a blunderbuss or flintlock, but a modern day rifle--in whatever “modern day” period he was in.
	A “gap” in his memory came during this time, what happened for the rest of the day he was unsure, he surmised (to himself later on recalling this grand epic) that he had “sampled” another jigger-swig of the moonshine, then possibly quite possibly another swig, a full shot’s worth.  All this couple with blood loss, concussion, his numerous hurtie-owies led to his possibly just passing out. 
	When he DID awake neatly to stronger memories--he would have rather not.  It was dark, it was getting rather chilly, his head hurt terribly-terribly.  He then became aware of the fact that he was not alone.
	Not alone.
	It wasn’t birds or chipmunks, no woodpeckers, not even the pesky otter--it was none other than a bear.  August startled the bruin and the bear reacted, growling and rearing up, bearing fangs and claws.  August was glad now that he was unclothed ‘cause he just soiled himself…
	The bear roared and August tried to escape--he was in no mood to deal with a bear.  The bear seemed pissed off and charged August.  The fight was on.  It was going to be a short one, though…
	There wasn’t much August could do against the weighty brute, even if he was well.  The hot breath of the woodsy creature nearly melted his skin off his face, it was all August could do to keep his good arm between his throat and the bruin’s gapping maw.
	They wrestled, the huge furry gamey beast getting the upper hand.  August didn’t know how he had done it, but he had come up under the great hairy critter and secured the rifle; he had scrambled about seeking the object, not knowing if whether or not the damn relic was even loaded!
	The bear tore him a new asshole and was preparing to shred his manhood when August planted the rifle barrel under the critter’s chin and pulled the trigger.
	The blast-recoil sent both creatures sprawling.  August was partially deafened by the noise.  The powder stung into his new wounds, the bear had lashed his chest, thighs, and backside.  This was bad, very bad.
	In desperation August fired point blank again, the bear thrashed about and charged him blindedly, August fired again and then smacked the bear upside the head before the bear lunged and pummeled him.  The rifle went off once more and August remembered nothing more thereafter…
					****

	…until awakening in a bed.
	He was somewhat stunned, he awoke with a startle, and instantly needed to pee, very badly.  His head hurt, then everything else hurted.  Terribly, badly, relentlessly.  But he could see, he was in a bed, not a hospital, somebody’s house.  
	There was an opened window, three opened windows, dull white clapboard interior walls, a few pictures, a simple iron bed across from him, simple antique nightstands.
	He could smell something that smelled like--food.  Pine scented air wafted in, he felt better and had little to recall how he had gotten where he was, or how, or anything.
	Presently the door to the room opened and a middle aged woman appeared, in a below-the-knees dress, hair in a bun, and not a bad looker.  She carried a tray, not of food, but dressings.  She smiled and said something, August didn’t catch it.
	He looked confused, felt confused, was confused.  The woman soothed him, though, with her smile and demeanor.  She seemed to have called for someone, and in walked an old lady, a grandma in her 60s.  
	Mostly without his knowledge August had his dressings changed, he tried to talk himself but seemed to have throat damage.  The old grandma shushed him and pointed to her own throat and got August to understand that he was unable to communicate vocally.
	Presently the old fussy woman left, to be replaced by a much-much younger woman--a teenage girl.  Hmmmm, things were looking up!!

	The teenage girl was nice, plain looking, bib-overalls, no shoes, long sandy brown hair, something of a chest, and fuckable for sure.  Her name was Mary Ellen.  The woman fussing over August--not the old woman, was Olivia.  She was okay, she had a nice smile and didn’t bat an eye about August’s nudity--she sponged bathed him and then he passed out--again.
	He drifted in and out of consciousness, each time seeing new faces.  Usually Olivia was the constant, bathing him, feeding him, changing his dressing.  Sometimes the old woman would be sitting in a chair nearby, reading a book, he later surmised that it was the Bible.
	His hearing slowly returned to him, so did most of the feeling in his well frapped body.  He still couldn’t talk, he had severe damage to his throat.  That sucked.  But at least he was alive--he had tangled with a bear.  A BEAR!
	He was in the house of the Waltons.  He met most, usually one at a time.  Four boys, three girls, a set of grandparents and a set of regular parents.  He still wasn’t certain as to what year it was, but he determined that he was in some “southern” state by the kids’ mannerisms; shoeless and backwoods persona.
	That was cool.  He was cool with it.  He was alive, he didn’t think that after tangling with the bear he would be.  He was thankful, grateful, relieved.  He continued to keep most things that bothered him (Alice) buried deep, no need to go there.  There were other things, though, he had no fucking clue as to what had happened.  He decided to let those pesky things go.  He was alive, that was all that mattered.  For now.
	After a few days his strength was still down, but he seriously was displeased about his having to make use of a bedpan.  He was mightily uncomfortable with that and tried to “hold it in” when he needed to go.
	One fine morning, Erin came in to check on him.  It was then that before his frazzled eyes the HeadsUpDisplay flickered back into life.  Hmmmm.   He blinked, thought carefully, and paid attention to the flickering until it settled down.  Erin had been yapping to him and he missed what she had said. 
	Erin Walton, she was 14, tall for her age, long reddish brown hair, freckles, very slender but beheld a sort of odd allure to her.  She wore a dress that was an inch or so ABOVE the knee, an old paisley style of dress further putting August to believe he was not too much further along in the time line that he had been, possibly the early-early 1900s.
	She politely held her pose, noting August seemed to be in distress.  She smiled sweetly and August Mind-linked to her, “Anyone else home?”
	The girl was “zapped” along with his question.
	The boys were helping their “daddy”, grandpa had gone off to visit a friend, “momma” and grandma had gone to the store down the road.  That left Erin to watch over August.  August smiled at that.  (here we go again!)
	“Come to me.” August Minded to her.  The girl didn’t hesitate, she moved to the side of the bed, polite with her hands to her side.  She was cute, pretty, a tad bit prettier than her older sister.  August had yet to sort out who was who in the large family--but that would come.
	And speaking of come…
	“Pull your dress up.” he Minded to her.  He was most relieved when Erin did so without shilly-shallying about it.  Nice white brief panties.  A nice bulging muffin, creamy skin, the works.
	“With one hand, hold the dress up high,” he continued to mind to her, “with the other, slid your panties to you knees.”  he determined by the style of her undies that he was at least not BEFORE the Turn of the Century.
	His cock soared, a nice-nice muffin was there, his fingers still tingled and felt a little numb but he ran a finger up the girl’s poon, parting the lips and fur and resolved that she was a virgin.  August smiled more…
	The whole of her pussy and then her ass he fondled, then, taking a nice big risk he had her pull the dress off completely.  The bra came off next followed by the total removal of her panties.  He had her turn about and spread her cheeks.  He had complete control over her.
	After examining her pooter hole he had her turn about and crawl onto the bed, straddling him.  She did show a little hesitation, but his mind link control la Device compelled her and she readily complied with no more pause.
	His hands clamped to her ass, her furry slightly only trimmed snatch gently engulfed his cock.  He was surprised to discover that she was NOT a virgin.  But not a slut, either.  He sank into her and it was glorious, glorious Centurion!
	He made love to her, fast and slow, slow and fast; his balls smacking hither & tither, his cock nestled nicely up into the girl, her nipples stout and being nipped on by August.
	He tired for some Q&A but it didn’t seem to be available.  He let it go and settled for a nice fuck.
	His cock and balls were well satisfied--moments later.  Erin gushed out a hot load of love cream, coating his balls and pooling ‘neath his ass.  Her whole body shivered and August enjoyed it thoroughly.
	He couldn’t help but wonder who was tagging her, it wasn’t often, her pussy was still very tight.  He wondered if it could be one (or all) of her brothers, could it be her “daddy”, grandpa?  He had met most of the family, it had been the daddy and grandpa and the oldest child of the family John-boy who had found him.  August had blown the bear’s jaw off during his brief melee--the family was still dinning on bear meat…
	Anyways, Erin was a good fuck.  Damn good.  He would strive to get the info out of her, somehow.  For now, though, he simply had her get him a wash cloth.
	There was joy watching Erin move about naked, fetching various items for him as well as holding his dick while he peed into the toilet.  His brief walk from the “guest room” to the bathroom down the hall revealed to him that he was possibly in the 20s or early 30s.
	There was joy, too, in watching Erin suck his dick.  She seemed to know how, he gave her the command and she complied, dropping to her knees, gripping the funky schlong waggling before her and then sucking it.  She wasn’t an expert but a blow job was a blow job!
	After squirting some juices into her mouth, another load onto her sweet face, he nearly fell--his legs all wobbly.  He heard the sound of a truck, a noisy truck and panicked.  Someone was home.  Quickly he scooted back into the guest room and got into bed, just as quickly he put Erin into motion to dress herself, there was no time to get the panties and bra on, Erin’s name was being called by her daddy.
	August had just enough time to put her back into her own mind, clear it of what had happened and feign being asleep himself.  The daddy came up and checked on her and August then left.
	That was Erin, there was Mary Ellen and Elizabeth to get next, their mamma, too.  (no, he wasn’t into the aged grandma.)

	The wonder-notion of who was tagging Erin came to light one late afternoon, some days after August began to feel well enough to get around--and pee on his own.  He was visited by the family doctor who made house calls.  (August overheard though tending to August’s needs was the Christian thing to do, and he HAD provided for the family a bounty of meat, the 2$ for the doctor’s house call among other costly things further determined for August that he was somewhere between the mid 1920s and 30s.  There was no mentioning of a “war” so he wasn’t in the era of WWII.)
	Two dollars for a house call.  The family had money woes, the conversation carried on between the adults and August wondered how he could help.  Well, there was one way, there was another, and then…
	One day he found that there was silence in the house, at first it bothered him, frightened him.  The HUD was working, though, he heard birds and could see well enough.  Looking out the upstairs window he saw the family saw mill and the absence of the family truck.  No one seemed to be home.
	Carefully in Stealthmode he snuck out of his room and heard voices.  Training his ear and utilizing Invisibility mode and slipped up to a room down the hall and found Erin and brother Jim-bob (James Robert) in a conversation.  August had missed most of it, but there was something about a dance-social.  Erin was clad merely in her panties and bra, holding up a flowery dress as she stood before a dresser mirror.  Behind her on an iron bed lay her brother Jim-bob.  He was about her age, about a year or so younger.  
	He wore no shirt and no shoes and rubbed himself as he stared at his half nude sister.
	“Come on, Erin, please?” he begged.  August paid attention, smiling, wondering if he should intervene.
	“We’re going to get caught!” she bitched to him.
	“No we’re not, no one’s home.”
	Erin continued fussing with the dress, her hair and making excuses, including mentioning “that guy down the hall.” to wit Jim-bob replied, “he’s asleep.”
	“Just a quick one.” Jim-bob insisted pleading.  He undone his pants and tugged them down, no underwear.  He flopped his cock out, masturbated and waited.
	Erin ignored him.  August was amused.  
	“Come on, Erin, please!?” Jim-bob begged some more.
	Erin paid him no mind but continued to fuss with her self; then, on the sly she tugged down a corner of her panties, exposing some ass flesh.  Jim-bob grinned and fondled his teen bone moreso.
	Erin, though, didn’t do more than tug her panties down just to expose half her ass.  She then went on to fuss with her hair, replace the yellow flowery daisy dress with a reddish hue dress.
	Jim-bob stepped up behind her, shucking his pants and being butt bare assed naked.  His hard cock he angled down between his sister’s ass crack, hands to her hips further tugging her undies down to fully expose her ass.  His hands moved about to begin a frontal assault.  Then he moved up to her beautiful breasts, his mouth came to her neck and Erin STILL paid him no mind, but she was smiling and blushing all the while!
	Erin cocked her head, allowing her brother to have a nosh on her neck.  She was blushing, her nipples were standing out, poking through the cotton fabric of her bra.
	Jim-bob moved his hands up and down her body, finally coming to rest at her dark strawberry fur patch.  Erin gushed, closed her eyes and tightened up her body.  Jim-bob knew exactly what he was doing.  Down to his knees he went, placing his face between her cheeks and licking out her crack.  Erin leaned forward a bit, opening her legs, eyes still closed and mouth undulating.
	She finally turned about and scooted herself onto the dresser, working her panties down.  Jim-bob helped, he took the garment and sniffed the crotch then casually tossed them aside.  He feasted his eyes on Erin’s poon pie.  Down to it he went, licking, slurping, sucking, digging his fingers into it before standing and nuzzling up to her guiding his cock into her.
	After only a few pumps Erin mouthed, “All right, all right.” Jim-bob continued pumping, grinning widely.  He was a tall boy himself, sandy brown hair with a tinge of redness.  He beheld a bit of “goofiness” to his looks, forlorn or something like.  Erin gripped his arms and tensed up, “On the bed, Jim-bob.” Erin scolded him.  Jim-bob withdrew from his sister’s twat and lay out on her bed.  Erin frigged her quaking quim and then moved to the bed, removing her bra.  She straddled her younger brother, guiding his cock back into her body.
	The two commenced to a wondrous fuck for several minutes, kissing and humping madly until both succumbed to an equally wondrous orgasm.  Erin drenched Jim-bob’s cock and balls, the boy clung to her ass and plowed strainingly into her until he had no more to give.
	They lay still for several minutes thereafter, Erin finally mentioning something about having to re-take a bath.  She left Jim-bob, Jim-bob lay on her bed, fondling his prick.  He finally swung his legs over and spotted the panties on the floor.  He scooped them up and wrapped them about his cock, then snuck a look out into the hallway, noting Erin had gone into the bathroom and was drawing a bath.
	Quick the lad rummaged through a small dresser nearby another single person bed.  He fished out some panties, eyed them and then sniffed them, around his cock they went and then he dashed off to his own room he shared with his brothers.
	August watched as he placed the panties on his bed then lay on them and humped.
					****

	Olivia Walton found August Moone choppin’ wood early one morning, the sun’s rays were just beginning to pierce the morning air, all was quiet and still on Walton’s Mountain, named after the first family of Waltons had settled the area.  It was the summer of ‘37, he was now just 24 years away from being born!
	Everywhere there was Depression, banks had failed, farms, big business small and large, and people, too.  But up on Waltons Mountain the folks there were so poor--they didn’t know they were in a Depression!
	August had been in the house of Walton some eight days.  The doctor had come four times, a $2 bill each visit, plus all the bandages and dressings and needed medicines.  He had broken heal and badly sprained ankle, and a severe throat injury.  August didn’t know the total bill but felt obligated to try and make up for it.
	Ms. Walton stepped out onto the backsteps and was awed at August’s doings, he was pretty (even with just one operable hand.)  She was still miffed, though--he shouldn’t be doin’ someone else’s chores.  And she told him so as she trotted off to the barn to fetch the milk and eggs  (a job that was usually the oldest boy‘s responsibility--John-boy.)
	August chopped up a couple of more sticks, noted no one else seemed to be up.  The grandparents, the direct parents of John Sr., were usually early risers.  They would be up soon, August ceased his chopping and struck off for other pursuits.
	He found Olivia milking the family’s one jersey cow.  Quietly he zapped her, Olivia not the cow, and bid her to come stand by some bales of hay.  She complied, he had full control of her.  He figured he didn’t have a whole lot of time so he simply had her take her panties down, raise her dress and give him a show.  
	After the “show” he positioned the woman across one of the bales, parted her cheeks, panties off, and cock hard.  Her asshole was tight, very tight and probably hadn’t been breached--ever!  Her pussy, though--well, that was fukable and then some.  So he fucked it.  It wasn’t super tight nor super loose.  August plowed along for several minutes until he filled her womanly cunny, pulling in the other female members of the house he wouldn’t mind having a few minutes with--even and especially the youngest, Elizabeth.  She was ten and very cute--flaming red hair, freckles, flat straight body--extremely naïve.
	After shagging Olivia to his fill, he put her back in order, returned her to the stool at the cow then returned himself to his wood choppin’.  John-boy came out just as he swung down the ax.  He could smell coffee brewing and heard the grandpa talking, being yapped/bitched at by the grandma.  The house was waking up.
	After breakfast August helped John Sr. at the family business, various other members of the family had their chores and other things to do and John Sr. was appreciative of the extra help, despite August’s limited abilities.
	Just before noon August accompanied the grandpa, Zeb Walton, down the lane aways to check on a family that was new to the area.  During the walk August learned of the general store, Ike Godsey’s place, whereas it was the only general store for miles and miles.  Ike and his good staunch wife Corabeth were something of cousins to the Walton clan.
	There, too, were two old spinster ladies, the Baldwins.  A nice lot, a little quirky and the grandpa said nothing more about them.  
	There were many homesteads about the mountain, there was a church and a school and many homes tucked away out of the way and mostly unseen--and the peoples within, too!  
	They came to a house that was in serious need of repair, and lots of TLC.  A young woman lived there with her grandfather from her husband’s side.  The husband was no longer with them and that was all that was known.  They had a young little girl with them--August smiled, he had seen the little girl before--the grandfather, too!
	After some lemonade and a brief chat Grandpa Walton and the other grandpa struck off to the back to chat and talk.  Zeb conspiring to get the Walton family to help out the new family.  The young woman was nice, not overly striking, but nice just the same.  She was a dark haired gal, late 20s, a little haggard and worn, stressed out to the max.
	August casually wondered if she knew the shenanigans about her daughter and her grandfather?  August thought probably not.
	“Take yer panties off.” August Minded to the little girl, this after successfully zapping both she and the mother.  Both Subjects complied although August was only aiming for the little girl, Jessica.  Jessica wore a nice shortie dress, this made it easier for her to straddle August lap.  Easily August worked out his cock from his pants and stuffed it up Jessica’s wondrous snatch.  It was a tight fit but she sure as shootin’ wasn’t a virgin!
	August fired off a quickie, clutching at the child’s ass, kissing her and empty a healthy wad of man juice.  Thereafter he prompted the mother, Marie, to come “service” him while Jessica lay on the hardwood floor, legs open fingering herself.
	Marie wasn’t a genuine cocksucker, but she did her best.  August instructed her, taught her the fine pleasures of full cock pleasure, then had her sit on her one piece of furniture, the couch.  Shoulder back against it, legs out, August plowed her pussy until he could plow no more.
	Hearing conversations drawing closer he finished his debauchery with the mother & daughter, replaced as they last remembered and cleaned himself up.  
	At Ike Godsey’s Mr. Ike the proprietor was a nice man, smiled a lot and was downhomey.  His wife, however--was something else--a suspicious person, regal and straightforward and not overly friendly.  August determined that what she needed was a good ole fashion gangbang!
	A free soda pop Ike gave to August and Zeb, they were family and Ike had the paws of the bear August had killed.  Corabeth gave a disapproving eye about the “gift” of soda pop, but let it go.  August took a few swigs, grape NiHi.  Taking a look around the country store August liked it, a pool table back in the back, shelves of this and that, that and this.  Pre-war era, he liked it--sure the times were a little tough but there was more to it than that.
	He could say the same about the 50s, he liked that era, too--the Korean War was at hand and soon the Vietnam war would strike.  Any war was a traumatic one, but on the home front the peoples, the personification of the “way of life” still went on.
	It was then that little Amy came to interrupt his thoughts.  She was ten and not biologically connected to Ike and Corabeth.  Corabeth had something a-matter with her “female plumbing” so explained Zeb as they returned home.  “Amy” was adopted therefore.  She was all kinds of cute.  All kinds.  Blond hair, curls, and best friends with Elizabeth.
	She smiled sweetly at August and though he had enjoyed some righteous debauchery this day--his cock surged to life straightaway.  He deeply imagined the girl astride his face, his lap--on her hands and knees and that sweet lily white ass rubbing against his thighs!
	He thought the same about Elizabeth, Erin, and yet to be alone with Mary Ellen!
	There was still plenty of daylight left in the day, the grandpa took a breather, the “girls” were some where’s else, as were the boys.  August helped John Sr. at the mill, when enough lumber had been cut they stacked it into the one truck and cinched it down for the ride down the mountain.  August stayed behind and soon slipped off to see where everyone was at.
	He didn’t find the girls, but he found the boys, down by Drucilla’s Pond.  The pond was back aways, tucked away out of sight--for good reason, the lads liked to skinny dip.  And they were doing just that--plus a little more.
	On the bank nestled under the shade of a great tree the oldest took his comeuppance--or something close.  In his mouth was brother Ben’s schlong, up his ass was brother Jason’s cock.  Jerking off nearby was youngest brother Jim-bob.
	August was most pleased--he didn’t even have to DO anything!!
	Ben, about 15 or so, began to cum in oldest sibling’s mouth, he made some orgasmic pleasing sounds, held his hands to his ass and jerked furiously into John-boy’s mouth.  John-boy sucked hard and stronger, gripping his brother’s balls and devouring him while brother Jason plowed happily behind.
	Brother Jim-bob placed his face down to Ben’s ass, licking the brother’s crack and stepping up--just as the boy came and filled John Jr.’s mouth, brother Jim-bob thrust his own organ up into Ben’s backdoor.
	It was Jason’s turn, or John’s turn--depending how you look at it.  Jason assumed the “doggie-style” position and faced himself out into the pond, his hands in the water while brother John-boy got him from behind.  John-boy put himself into his brother’s corn hole, “reached around” and fondled his cock.  Brother Jim-bob pumped hard into Ben until he finally unloaded his spunk.  
	The boys all took a dip in the pond thereafter, August slinked away, still searching for the girls.

					****

	  Down the road a-piece he came upon the town of Waltons Mountain, it wasn’t much, honestly.  But it was all that there was for the mountain folk.  Several homes were about, not much more than just the school.  School wasn’t in session, ‘cept for those students who didn’t pass on to the next grade level and those who needed a little “extra” help.
	August made a nuisance of himself, general just more spying.
	He didn’t have a lot of time to dawdle as Olivia and grandma mentioned something about a scrumptious meatloaf dinner with trimmings and an apple pie for desert.  August was amused, as poor as the family was they still managed to put out a nice spread, meager as they were it was enough.
	August vowed to see what he could do, he knew that he could do something to help the family thru the trying times but he didn’t want to go overboard about it.
	Anyways--his Narly Senses alerted him once more to some “narly” business going on.  As there were several homes scattered about, narrowing it down was going to be tough.  “Fuck it.” he told himself, “Try ‘em all!” why not!?
	The first house was unoccupied, so was the second.  A pair of old farts were in the third.  A woman and her very young daughter were asleep together on the living room couch.
	He found two boys about 12ish smoking cigarettes behind a house.  Two boys out behind the next house over happily wanked off, yanking on each other’s schlong bones at that!  They were stark naked and very tan, handsome devils.
	August moved on, the day was waning and he wasn’t about to pass up meatloaf downhome mountain style.

	Eventually the Narly Senses directed him to a house down the lane nestled into the woods “a fur piece”.  Here he found some kiddies, alone.  The youngest about 4ish, a wee lass.  There were two boys--up to extreme narly business--up to extreme narly business with another little girl no more than 8 years or so--the boys themselves were 12ish.
	All were naked.
	The eight year old was happily sucking on the cock of her brother as he sat sprawled out on the living room sofa.  She was on the sofa, too, on her knees sucking away while behind her the other boy had his face right into the girl’s butt, licking her pussy AND asshole, smacking her ass with one hand while jacking himself off with the other.
	Just when the boy being sucked began to cum, the boy sucking ass wind sat up and pushed his aching prong into the girl’s body, August peeked to see what hole was being filled--the girl’s pussy.  The boy humped furiously, clutching the girl’s ass and sinking his bald schlong all the way, his balls slapping just as furiously.
	The young lad who was being sucked expended his load into his sister’s mouth, rubbed his schlong all over her face and massaged his organ while watching in glee the sex act done to her.  His spunk glistening in gobs on her pretty little face, she licked the most of it off that she could get with her tongue.  The boy jerking his pud reached underneath and began fingering her pussy as well as clutching at his twin’s ball sac.
	That boy finally orgasmed, smacked his sister’s ass, pulled out and watched his goo ooze out of her pussy.
	“Lick it.” August commanded him.
	The boy didn’t hesitate, he went right down and began lapping up his spent juices.
	The other boy went to his little sister.  She was laid out on the bare floor and closely examined.  August noted that she was NOT a virgin, August had to wonder if the parent(s) knew, surely it would be noted.  The boy positioned himself between the four year old’s legs and inserted his young cock.
	The eight year old girl sat down, legs up fingering her pussy.  August took his turn, licking her pussy and asshole before saddling up and slipping his schlong into her for a nice fuck.
	While he humped the boys sandwiched fucked their youngest sibling.
	August got his nut, the girl’s pussy was still nice and tight regardless of her brothers’ fucking it.  Her asshole he gouged out a bit, licked/lapped her cunny then got up on the sofa, straddling the young girl’s body he pumped away into her mouth.
	The girl choked, gagged, but sucked/swallowed August’s cock just the same, he let his juices drizzle onto her chest and he felt very-very relieved.
	The boys had done their stuff to the youngest one.  Now it was August’s, turn.  August set the boys to 69ing--sucking one another.  They were a little appalled and apparently had never slurped one another.  August taught them well while he buggered and fucked the youngest sibling.  When his load exploded in her young-young pussy he was done.  He still felt that he had stamina to go on, but it would have to be without his cock.
	He dressed and stumbled his way back to the Walton home.

	*Author’s Note:  There’s lots more coming up, folks, I got more Ideas than a library.  If for some odd chance you would like to contact me, tell me something about this epic saga--good-bad-indifferent, well, I’d like to hear from you.  simplerecipes@msn.com <mailto:simplerecipes@msn.com>  I would appreciate any comments*