Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 TITLE: A Little Town's Big Secret
PART: Chapter 1 - The Reporter
AUTHOR: Big Al
KEYWORDS: bff bF oral fellatio cunnilingus piv preg impreg lac size cons
ped
SUMMARY: A buxom reporter tries to uncover a town's secret, the source
of its rampant rise in pregnancies.  Written as a trade for Zorlond on
Hentai Foundry.
   **********
   "If you're gonna hold me, hold me like I'm leaving, if you're gonna kiss
me, kiss me like you need it, boy if you're not, you better get, to
leaving!" Jane Plains belted out the lyrics along with the car radio,
before glancing at her younger sister.  "Come on, Stace," she prompted,
"you used to love singing along with me."
   14 year old Stacy Plains was slouched in the front passenger seat of the
sedan as the endless highway rolled beneath them.  She was wearing entirely
too much makeup: dark red on her lips, gaudy purple eyeshadow, too much
blush, glittery eyelashes.  Her halter top was far skimpier and tighter
than Jane could approve of, emphasizing what little titflesh she had to
show off; Jane was certain that halter top was a size too small.
   Stacy chose not to respond to her older sister, except with a roll of
her eyes.  Jane suppressed a sigh; Stacy was determined to be as bored as
possible on this unwanted trip.  The 20 year old reporter supposed she
couldn't blame her; at 14 she hadn't wanted to do anything except troll the
malls with her friends.
   It hadn't been Jane's idea to bring Stacy along, but their mother had
insisted.  "It'll be good for her," the 38 year old Mrs.  Plains had said.
Jane wasn't entirely sure about that, but had agreed, since their mother
wasn't exactly a good influence on Stacy, in her opinion.
   Jane had left home at 16, working her way through college with the help
of a scholarship and graduating at 19 with a degree in journalism.  Her
mother hadn't approved, saying, "You'll never make money writing news about
other people.  You should make news, not report it!" and other such pithy
words.
   It was easy for her to say, Jane thought sourly; Mrs.  Plains had never
worked a day in her life.  At 18 she'd gotten married to a neurosurgeon
more than twice her age and borne Jane less than a year later.  Jane, and
later Stacy, had been raised primarily by a succession of nannies; although
they at least saw their mother regularly, their father was constantly
working, and was little more than a shadow in their lives.
   Mrs.  Plains had allowed Jane her ambitions without comment for most of
her life.  After all, she wasn't 'beautiful' by the traditional artificial
standards that society imposed.  In middle school, she had been mercilessly
teased as a flat-titted 'Plain Jane', and every boy she'd liked had
rejected her in favor of girls with huge knockers.  At 15 however, Plain
Jane had had her revenge; her mother's genes finally favored her, blessing
her with a pair of glorious round jugs as big as her head.  All the boys
had asked her out, and she'd taken great pleasure in telling each and every
one to go fuck themselves.
   She'd stopped wearing makeup at all, and had become more determined than
ever to advance herself through her own efforts and merit, despite her
mother's now-constant sermons on finding a good catch.  Jane glanced at
Stacy in the seat beside her again.  Sermons that Stacy was now subjected
to.  Unlike Jane, Stacy didn't have any particular ambitions, and thus her
mind was fertile ground for their mother's talk.
   Poor Stace had tiny tits that were barely there, but Jane had no doubt
she too would eventually develop huge ones; and she feared that Stacy would
embrace male attention whole-heartedly.  She'd lobbied their mother to put
Stacy on birth control, but Mrs.  Plains had refused, saying a baby was the
best way to catch a man.  Disgustedly, Jane had paid for birth control
pills for her sister, who took them without argument.
   Foisting Stacy off on Jane as she pursued this news assignment was only
Mrs.  Plains' latest scheme; Jane was interviewing a woman who had married
up...  way way up.  Mrs.  Mary Cohen was 40 and her husband, Joseph Cohen,
was an 80 year old multibillionaire.  Mrs.  Plains' intention in sending
Stacy with Jane was clear, but Jane had allowed it, just to get Stacy out
from under their mother's thumb.
   Exit 69 was ahead, and Jane pulled off the interstate into Kingsburg. 
"We're here, Stacy," she said, pointing out the obvious in an effort to
engage her sister in conversation.  The 14 year old only made a
half-hearted noise of acknowledgement.  The town wasn't much to see, Jane
had to admit.  They were driving through a central square, but that square,
plus a few blocks each direction from it, was about the entirety of
Kingsburg's shops and offices.  There were sprawling hills beyond the
square however, that were still part of the municipality, and it was
through one such set of hills that Jane drove, heading to the bed and
breakfast she'd made reservations at.
   Their destination soon rose up before them, a great big old blue house
with a sign out in front reading, Ethel's Homestyle B&B.  It was clearly
antebellum, with a wraparound porch, but just as obviously had been
restored and modernized with electricity and plumbing.  "We're here!" Jane
enthusiastically announced the obvious.  After a long drive she was looking
forward to stretching her legs and relaxing for a bit.  "Isn't this a nice
place?" she prompted Stacy.
   "Probably doesn't have wifi," Stacy grumbled, but Jane was at least
heartened to hear her say a complete sentence.
   "You have unlimited data on your phone," Jane pointed out.  Her sister
didn't have an answer to that, so just settled for looking disgruntled. 
They grabbed their bags; they didn't have too many: Jane traveled light,
and she'd been adamant about Stacy bringing a max of two bags and her
purse. The girl had wanted to bring 5 suitcases and duffels, stuffed full
of clothes, teddy bears, and video games.
   As they walked up the porch steps, the front door opened, revealing a
wizened old woman with her steel-gray hair in a severe bun, thick bifocals
resting on a bent nose, and a wide friendly smile that made her look warm
and motherly.  "You must be Miss Jane," she greeted them in a steady if
slightly quavering voice.  "I'm Missus Ethel.  And who is this fine young
lady?"
   "Good to meet you in person," Jane smiled back at her.  "This is Stacy,
my sister." She nudged her, and Stacy mumbled something resembling a
greeting.
   "Come on in!" she gestured.  As they followed the old woman inside, the
delicious smells of cooking hit them, and Jane's stomach growled.  Ethel
smiled knowingly and said, "Dinner is almost ready, but let me show you to
your room first.  You have two choices.  The upstairs rooms have a better
view, but if you don't want to climb any stairs, I can show you to the
downstairs suite."
   Jane heartily wished not to climb any stairs at the moment, after
spending all day in the car, but deferred to her sister.  "What do you
think, Stace?" Her sister shrugged, so Jane suppressed a sigh and answered,
"Downstairs if you please."
   "Right this way," Ethel said, bothered not a whit by Stacy's rudeness.
"I have a granddaughter about her age.  Well, she's 14, so a couple of
years younger than you, I'd guess, Miss Stacy."
   Stacy brightened at being assumed to be older than she actually was.  "I
look 16?  Really?" Jane caught the glint in Ethel's eyes and realized the
old woman knew a thing or two about raising teenage girls.  "I'm 14, but
I'll be 15 in October."
   Within 5 minutes of meeting her, Ethel had gotten more verbiage out of
Stacy than Jane had all day.  The young reporter felt like she should be
taking notes.  "Well, I'm sure you two will get along famously.  She's
either sleeping or playing on her Xbox, but you can rest assured she'll be
down for dinner."
   Stacy brightened still further at the mention of an Xbox, and Jane
figured things were looking up.  "Here you are," Ethel opened a door into a
nicely sized bedroom with adjoining bathroom.  It was quaintly and
comfortably appointed.
   "Thank you so much, Missus Ethel," Jane said sincerely.  "It looks
perfect."
   "You're most welcome," Ethel nodded her head.  "Make yourselves
comfortable, then come into the dining room to eat."
   "What is it?" Stacy asked eagerly.
   "Homemade beef stew, with chopped tomatoes from the garden out back, and
buttermilk biscuits." Jane's stomach growled again in response to Ethel's
answer, and Stacy giggled.  Ethel left them then, and the two sisters set
down their luggage.  Stacy nabbed the bathroom first, and Jane had to wait
as the teen not only used the toilet but touched up her makeup as well. 
Once her sister emerged, Jane was able to relieve herself and felt much
better.
   They left the room to go to the dining room, and Ethel was just bringing
out dinner: a big pot of delicious beef stew and a tray of fluffy biscuits
that were clearly homemade.  She ladled them out generous servings, and
called upstairs, "Chloe, dear!  Dinner!"
   Stacy looked ready to devour their meal in one gulp, which was how Jane
felt, but she fortunately had the reserve to wait till Ethel's
granddaughter joined them.  The 20 year old expected to hear a teenager
bounding down the stairs, the way Stacy always did, but instead she heard
steady creaks, almost slow in fact.  Stacy appeared not to notice, but Jane
furrowed her brow, wondering if something was wrong with this Chloe.
   When Chloe finally appeared, Jane and Stacy's eyes both boggled.  She
was a lovely young girl to be sure, with lively blue eyes and a long
ponytail dyed into red and yellow streaks, but her feature that immediately
leapt out at the sisters was that she was PREGNANT.  Very heavily pregnant
in fact, her belly bulging outwards so that she had to walk slowly, with a
hand on her back hip.  She had quite generous tits too, likely caused by
the pregnancy, and the fat nipples poking through her thin maternity shirt
indicated her lack of a bra.
   " 'Lo, Grandma," the girl waddled to her grandmother and kissed her
cheek, before lowering carefully into a chair.  "Hiya," she greeted Jane
and Stacy in a friendly manner, "I'm Chloe, you can call me Chlo' if you
want."
   Stacy's mouth opened, full of questions ready to be expelled, but Jane
interjected quickly, "Hello, Chloe.  I'm Jane, and this is my sister
Stacy."
   "Let us say grace," Ethel said, and she and Chloe crossed themselves as
they said the blessing.  Jane bowed her head respectfully, but Stacy didn't
bother, and the teenager caught Chloe rolling her eyes at her grandmother's
bowed head as the old woman recited the prayer.  The pregnant 14 year old
noticed that she'd been caught, and threw Stacy a mischievous wink,
whereupon Jane's sister had to suppress a giggle.
   Upon the Amen, all four dug into their meals, albeit Ethel did so with
rather more decorum than the other three.  "So Chlo'," Stacy said,
swallowing a delectable mouthful of stew, "Missus Ethel said you have an
Xbox?"
   "Yup!" Chloe said, and rattled off a bunch of games that she had. 
"Wanna come play with me after dinner?"
   "Do I!" Stacy exclaimed gladly.
   "If I may inquire," Ethel said politely to Jane, "what brings you to
Kingsburg?"
   "I'm a journalist for the State Sentinel," she answered.  "I'm here to
interview Mrs.  Cohen."
   Ethel crossed herself again.  "Ah, the virgin birth of little Ruth.  Our
town is blessed indeed."
   "God has a big dick," Chloe snorted, and Stacy gasped a surprised
giggle.
   Jane furrowed her brow in puzzlement at the comment, but Ethel frowned,
"Don't blaspheme, young lady, and mind your language." She looked at Jane.
"Chloe won't tell me who the boy was, but it certainly wasn't our Lord.  He
certainly had a role in her pregnancy, nevertheless, for Kingsburg has been
blessed with a slew of pregnancies this year."
   "Oh really?" Jane's journalistic instincts prickled.
   "Indeed," Ethel nodded.  "I told the school board they shouldn't pass
out contraceptives in our schools, but they didn't listen.  Now the Lord
himself has stepped in to void the contraceptive effects.  It is clearly a
message to us, a reminder that we are to be fruitful and multiply."
   Curiouser and curiouser, Jane thought.  Ethel's religious zeal aside, a
high number of pregnancies, apparently among teens as well, despite easily
accessible contraceptives?  Along with the supposed virgin birth of Mary
Cohen's infant daughter, it added up to a mystery that might just hint at a
possible path to an answer...  because in Jane's gut, she felt the two
events were linked somehow, although as a skeptic she ruled out Ethel's
belief in divine intervention.
   "So this high number of pregnancies," she asked, "it's among teenage
girls?"
   "Not just teenagers," Ethel said.  "All ages.  Preteens even, all the
way up to women in their 40s."
   "What about you, Chlo'?" Stacy asked.  "How far along are you?"
   "7 months," the girl said proudly.
   Jane gaped; only seven months?  The 14 year old looked like she was
ready to pop at any moment.  "Twins?" she hazarded.
   "Triplets," Chloe proclaimed.  "All girls."
   "Congratulations," Jane said, not sure if she meant it.  A glance at
Stacy revealed that her younger sister was clearly quite delighted with her
new friend; she hoped Chloe's pregnancy wouldn't reinforce their mother's
sermons on catching a man in Stacy's mind...  although if Chloe's baby
daddy wasn't stepping up, perhaps that would help Stacy to understand the
ridiculousness of their mother's notions.
   "What are you gonna name them?" Stacy asked eagerly.
   "I can't decide," Chloe confessed.  "I either want to give them names
that rhyme - like Sara, Tara, and Kara - or names that all start with the
same letter - like Kristen, Kelsey, and Kara."
   "You like the name Kara?" Jane observed.
   "Yeah," Chloe said.  "D-- my baby daddy," she blushed at her slip, "said
he thinks Kara is a really pretty name, so I want to name one of my girls
that." Jane stole a glance at Missus Ethel, but the old woman seemed to
accept that Chloe just wasn't going to give up her beau's identity.
   "I'd suggest against names that rhyme," Jane said thoughtfully.  "They
sound so alike that it'd be easy to misunderstand which one was being
called, for example."
   Chloe nodded at the sage advice, and Stacy added, "What if you gave them
first names that start with the same letter, and middle names that rhyme?"
   Chloe giggled, "But then one of them would be named Kara Kara!" Stacy
joined her fits of giggles, and Jane rolled her eyes at teenagers and their
humor.  Still, it was good to see Stace perking up.
   A knock came at the door then.  "That's Dixon," Chloe said, starting to
lift her pregnant bulk up from the table.
   "Stay seated, dear," Ethel commanded.  "In your condition, you have to
be careful.  It's open, dear!" she called, and from the parlor could be
heard the sound of the door opening and shutting.
   Jane looked curiously at Chloe.  The 14 year old had reacted so eagerly,
that she wondered if this 'Dixon' might be her baby daddy?  Her suspicions
were proved unfounded however, when a scrawny little boy bounded in.  He
was short and shrimpy, not even a teenager.  A bicycle helmet covered his
head, although some sweaty dirty blonde curls were plastered to his
forehead, and he wore a t shirt and loose baggy pants.  He stank of sweat,
and his face was reddened with it, but it wasn't an unpleasant musk by any
means.
   "Hey Dicks!" Chloe greeted him enthusiastically, and he grinned at her.
Stacy snorted a suppressed giggle at the nickname, and Jane had no doubt
that her sister had thought of a dirty pun.
   "Hey Chlo'," he said warmly in his boyish tenor.  "Hiya Missus Ethel. 
Um, hello," his gaze swiveled to Jane and Stacy.
   "Good afternoon, Dixon dear," Ethel said.  "These are our guests Miss
Jane Plains and her sister Stacy."
   "Good to meet you," Jane said politely, and Stacy made a halfhearted
noise of acknowledgement.
   Dixon was hefting a sack over his shoulder, and turned back to Ethel
saying, "Miss Harris asked me to bring you these apples from her orchard,
as thanks for those tomatoes you gave her.  I got your paper too."
   "Well, bless her," Ethel said, "and bless you, too, for carrying that in
this heat.  You can set them down in the kitchen if you please."
   Dixon obliged, throwing interested looks back at Jane and Stacy before
disappearing into the kitchen.  He came back quickly, and said, "How are
the babies, Chlo'?"
   The pregnant 14 year old smiled radiantly.  "Two of them are sleeping,
but one is kicking." She backed her chair up from the table, and Dixon went
over to hear and place his ear on her belly.  His face broke out into a
fascinated grin.
   "She's a kicker, alright," he said.  "You're not uncomfortable, though?"
   "I keep telling you, this is an easy pregnancy," Chloe answered.  "Just
the weird cravings.  You wanna stay and play video games with me and
Stacy?" Stacy looked aghast at the thought, but Dixon shook his head.
   "Wish I could, Chlo', but I've gotta finish deliverin' these papers, and
then get to St.  Cecilia's for Miz Gregory's summer art class.  I'm
modeling," he said proudly.  "Bye Chlo', bye Missus Ethel, bye Miss Jane
and Miss Stacy!" His gaze swept over them, and Jane could tell his eyes
were attracted to her large tits; it's not like she could blame a guy for
noticing them, but Dixon seemed rather young to be aware of such things. 
Nonetheless a little tingle went through her as she felt his eyes on them,
and she wondered where it could have come from.
   "Have a biscuit, Dixon," Ethel urged.  Dixon gratefully complied,
chomping one down.
   "Thanks, Missus Ethel, you always make the best biscuits!  Nice meetin'
ya," he finished.  He took a last look at Stacy, who ignored him, and then
finally he added, "You look really purty, Miss Stacy, I don't know why you
hide it under all that makeup." Stacy looked at him in surprise, but he was
already bouncing out the door, which closed behind him with a slam.
   Jane nearly choked on her glass of tea.  Was this town full of people
who could all entice Stace out of her shell?  First Missus Ethel, then
Chloe, and now this Dixon?  Maybe she should try to get Stacy to move here.
   "Who is that squirt?" Stacy asked, suddenly interested, albeit only now
that he had left on the heels of his flattering pronouncement.  "You
babysit him or something?"
   "Nah, he don't need any babysittin'," Chloe shook her head.  "But he's a
really cool kid, everyone loves him."
   "Doesn't need," Ethel corrected her, then added, "Dixon is a hardworking
responsible young lad.  Always helping out around the neighborhood, rain or
shine.  All nine year old boys should aspire to be like that young man."
   "It's scorching out there," Stacy observed.  "Why was he wearing long
pants if he's biking around?"
   "Cycling," Ethel corrected the young teenager as smoothly as she had her
granddaughter.
   "Come upstairs with me, Stace," Chloe said enthusiastically, swallowing
the last bite of her food.  "I'll tell you all about him when I'm killing
your ass in Call of Duty."
   Stacy laughed.  "You're on, girlfriend!" The two teenagers disappeared
upstairs, Stacy helping to support Chloe's back as the heavily pregnant
girl waddled up the steps.
   As Jane finished her meal as well, she dabbed her lips with a napkin. 
"Thank you for dinner, Missus Ethel, it was fantastic!"
   "Oh it was nothing," Ethel said modestly, but Jane could tell she was
pleased at the compliment.  "I'll clean up, and you can return to your
room, or go about town, we've a nice village and row of shops."
   "I may just do that," Jane murmured.  She had originally planned to
relax this evening, before her interview with Mrs.  Mary Cohen tomorrow,
but now she wanted to research the wave of pregnancies.  It was not quite 4
in the afternoon - Ethel had served an early dinner - so the city hall
should be open.  Time to dig through some records!
   Later that evening, Jane returned to the B&B, tired but pleased with
herself.  She had talked with the city registrar, the local newspaper
editor, and a few other people.  The pregnancies were in record numbers, on
the order of multiple dozens, and the ages of the mothers and mothers-to-be
ranged widely, from one girl as young as seven to one woman in her late
40s. Granted, the youngest mother in recorded history had been 5, but seven
was still quite young indeed, and the forties were certainly usually beyond
the pale of childbirthing.
   Of the unmarried women - which included all the teens and preteens of
course - most of them had not attributed a father on the birth
certificates, which Jane found very odd indeed.  Surely it couldn't be one
man breeding the town?  Yet her research seemed to support that very
conclusion.  A man so fertile as to breed both extremely young and
middle-aged women, and to breed despite contraceptives.  It seemed doubtful
enough that there could be one such man, much less several.
   And a bunch of anonymous fathers tickled her reporting instinct - it was
a single anonymous father, had to be.  But why would all the girls keep his
identity secret?  It was true that none of them lacked for financial
support; Kingsburg was a wealthy little town, with most households earning
over a hundred grand in a year.
   And she wondered if this anonymous father - "God" - had also sired
infant Ruth on Mrs.  Mary Cohen, the supposed "virgin mother".
   Stacy wasn't in their room, so Jane supposed she was still up in Chloe's
room.  She wasn't going to get any farther in her journalistic
investigation tonight, so she did her best to relax the rest of the
evening. She briefly considered asking Chloe about her baby daddy, but
discarded it.  If Ethel - who had prompted surprising amounts of verbiage
out of Stacy - couldn't get the pregnant teen to open up, Jane likely
couldn't either.
   The next morning, she was treated to a delicious homemade breakfast made
by Missus Ethel, after which Stacy and Chloe disappeared upstairs again to
play more video games.  Glad that her sister was enjoying the trip after
all, Jane left the B&B to drive to the Cohen place.  Her interview with
Mrs. Cohen was scheduled for this morning.
   Although Kingsburg Square was small, the rolling hills surrounding it
were home to most of the city's residents, sprawling in all directions. 
The Cohen mansion was at the end of a cul-de-sac lined with several other
large houses with correspondingly large yards, albeit they were smaller
than the Cohen estate.  There was no fence around the mansion, which seemed
surprising for a reclusive multibillionaire, but Joseph Cohen wasn't one of
the "famous" wealthy.  Most of his wealth was inherited, so he didn't have
any sort of business through which others might know of him.  Although the
manor was quite large, it was not nearly as large as some of the huge
mansions other wealthy individuals had; apparently Cohen had some restraint
in such matters.
   Jane parked her car in the wrap-around driveway, and got out, shielding
her eyes against the morning sun.  Early in the day, and it was already
extremely hot; despite her skimpy tank top and short shorts, she was
sweating profusely.  There was a groundskeeper tending a flower garden, who
waved at her in a friendly manner as she went up the sidewalk.  She raised
her hand to ring the bell, when the front door opened, revealing a butler
in a traditional black and white suit.  He was exactly what people thought
of when they imagined a butler, and Jane decided she wouldn't be surprised
if his name was in fact Jeeves.
   "Good day to you, Miss Plains," he said, "Do come in.  The master and
mistress await you in their study."
   She thanked him, and he showed her the way.  Jane had only a few moments
as she strode through to observe the interior of the house.  Expensive,
luxurious furniture; finely lacquered hardwood floors; high-quality art
prints in gold frames, mostly depicting religious iconography.
   She was surprised to see none other than Dixon - the 9 year old boy
she'd met the previous night - standing in the living room cradling what
could only be the months-old infant Ruth Cohen in his scrawny arms.  "Oh hi
there, Miss Jane," he chirped brightly.
   "Hello, Dixon was it?" she greeted him.  He didn't have a bicycle helmet
on this time, so his mop of dirty blonde curls was on display, framing his
young face, out of which bright inquisitive eyes gazed at her.  A rather
attractive kid, she had to admit; he'd be a heartthrob among the girls when
he got into high school, she suspected.
   "Yes, ma'am," he said.  "Just babysitting Ruthie while you interview
Mizz Mary."
   Nine year olds weren't usually entrusted to babysit, Jane observed to
herself, but apparently Dixon was extraordinary in that regard.  She
noticed the curious fact that he was still wearing baggy long pants,
despite the scorching heat - at which point she then noticed a sizeable
bulge in them.
   On a grown man, or even a teenager, she'd chalk that up to a boner.  But
even apart from the fact that Dixon was much too young to get a boner from
seeing an attractive 20 year old reporter with big tits, the bulge itself
was also much too big to be an actual dick, even for an adult.  More likely
he had an oversized Red Bull can in his pocket or something.
   Still, Jane got a little tingle running through her body as she imagined
that it was a real dick, huge and thick and long and throbbing, able to
satisfy her thoroughly-- but she belatedly remembered that her imagination
in this case would be attached to a 9 year old boy, which prompted a slight
flush to her cheeks.
   "Wanna meet Ruthie?" he said brightly, unaware of her discomfort. 
"Isn't she the purtiest baby you ever did see?" Jane peered at the smiling
infant that Dixon was rocking in his arms, but waved at him as she
continued to follow the butler to her interview
   As 'Jeeves' opened the paneled oak door to the study - in Jane's mind,
Jeeves was now his name, no matter what his given name might be - he
announced, "Master and Mistress Cohen, may I present Miss Jane Plains of
the State Sentinel." A man and a woman both stood up out of their chairs to
greet her.  Joseph Cohen, despite being 80 years old, was a spry fellow,
his eyes bright and inquisitive, his gait agile despite audible creaks. 
His skin was wrinkled like a potato, and bifocals were perched on the end
of his nose.
   In stark contrast, his wife Mary was in the prime of her life.  At 40
years old, she had a stunning figure, with wide childbearing hips and a
plump bubble butt.  Huge breasts sat on her chest, larger even than Jane's
sizeable tits, and they swayed and jiggled with her every movement, barely
contained by a tight blouse.  She had long bottle-blonde hair that fell
nearly to her waist in luxurious curls, and bold red nails.  Her makeup was
sparse and tasteful, applied only where needed to enhance her face, and
then only in sparing doses.  She made Jane feel...  well, plain.
   Other than the couple she had come to interview, she took in the study.
Shelves lined the walls, floor to ceiling, stuffed with tomes and
knickknacks.  Religious iconography and kabbalistic symbols were everywhere
to be seen, and Jane felt that the rumors of Joseph Cohen being of a mystic
mindset were not unfounded.  Which of course would account for his
susceptibility to believing in a virgin birth.
   "How do you do, Mrs.  Cohen?" Jane said politely as the older woman took
her hands in greeting.
   "Please, please, call me Mary, Jane, and my husband is Joseph," she
smiled, revealing dazzlingly white teeth.  "I see you already met Ruthie."
   "I was going to name her Eve," Joseph Cohen piped up, "but Mary had a
sending from our Lord, ordaining that she be named Ruth."
   Jane's ears pricked with interest.  "God", or whomever Mary Cohen's baby
daddy might be, had wanted the girl named Ruth.  Just as Chloe's baby daddy
had suggested Kara for one of her unborn triplets' name.  Clearly, whoever
this man-slut was, he still carried interest in his progeny despite his
remaining anonymous.
   "How amazing," she said.  "What form did this sending take?"
   "Well, I was lying in bed," Mary said, "falling asleep, when his voice
pierced the mists of my dreams, saying her name."
   Lying in bed with her lover, perhaps?  Jane wondered sardonically, but
did not voice her thought.
   "And I see you met Dixon too," Joseph said.  "You may wish to interview
him too, for he has a role to play in little Ruth's future."
   Jane eyed the old man dubiously.  His gaze was intelligent and keen but
also somewhat fanatical.  "Why do you say that?"
   "You saw them when you came in," Joseph said.  "She was smiling and calm
and happy."
   "Only Dixon has that effect on her," Mary explained.  "When anyone else
holds her, except sometimes me, she bawls almost nonstop."
   "Clearly a sign," Joseph said.  "The Lord has ordained the lad to be her
protector and guardian, perhaps even her husband someday." The notion was
clearly ridiculous, but Jane had to admit that, for a man who had married a
woman 40 years his junior, a 9 year age gap would seem like pennies.
   "So when did you realize you were pregnant with Ruth?" she asked.  She
didn't have a phone or tablet out; she wanted to make the interviewees feel
as comfortable as possible, and the tangible reminder that their words were
being recorded often had the opposite effect.  Instead, she paid very close
attention, and filed everything away to her well-trained memory.
   "When I started putting on weight," Mary laughed.  "Well, not precisely
then, but that realization prompted a visit to my gynecologist.  Dr.  Susan
Brown told me the cause: pregnancy."
   "Really?" Jane arched an eyebrow.  "No...  morning sickness?"
   "None whatsoever," Mary said happily.  "Very easy pregnancy.  No nausea,
no cramps, just lots of strange cravings."
   Hmm, Jane thought to herself.  Chloe also had mentioned having an
extremely easy pregnancy.  Coincidence?  Difficulties in pregnancy were
typically due to the female's physiology, but could the mysterious baby
daddy's genes have some property that made his offspring incubate in easy
pregnancies?
   "A further sign of the Lord's visitation upon her," Joseph pointed out.
   "How soon did you..." Jane paused, phrasing her question delicately to
Joseph, the clear cuckold in this situation even if he wasn't aware of it,
"...realize that her conception was...  divinely inspired?"
   "I admit I was confused at first," Joseph said, "but Mary then told me
of a dream she'd had, in which a light had shone down upon her while
sleeping, filling her with warmth.  She had originally thought it just a
dream, but I realized that it was the Lord's visitation upon her. 
Non-phallic virgin intercourse!  Our Lord of course is a spirit, and has no
phallus.  He is of course too holy for such coarse physicality, but
transmitted his seed through holy light."
   Jane blinked.  "Oh?" she settled for saying.
   In her confusion, Joseph sensed an audience for his mysticism, and
pulled a book off the shelves.  "Oh yes," he said, flipping pages.  "The
phallus is an instrument of sin, redeemed only through its ability to
transmit life.  The unholiest of demons naturally have enormous phalluses,
whereas the angels and God himself have none."
   He thrust the open book at her, and Jane was bemused to see an entry on
demons, naming one Azael, Grand Incubus and Lord of the Second Pit.  A
grayscale illustration depicted a bestial humanoid with a surprisingly
detailed erect phallus taller than its head.  The sight of the gigantic
cock made Jane's pussy tingle, and she thought about that huge dick that
she'd briefly imagined that Dixon had, bringing another blush to her
cheeks.
   "My husband is very wise and knowledgeable," Mary said demurely.  "And
holy."
   Jane shot a curious look at the 40 year old woman.  It sounded almost
like she was mocking her husband, intimating that his cock was tiny.  If
she was though, Joseph didn't notice, beaming brightly at his wife.
   As the interview went on, Jane started to put together a clearer picture
of the couple.  Joseph, though intelligent, was highly philosophical and
mystic, religiously zealous, and almost fanatically spiritual.  A lifetime
of being free to pursue his own interests had made him an expert in all the
most obscure kabbalistic lore.  He was head over heels for his wife,
enthralled even more by her apparent 'holiness' than by her evident smarts
and beauty, with which she had originally caught his interest.
   Mary on the other hand was clearly fond of her husband, but that was it
- a mild fondness.  She didn't love him, and didn't share his mystic
beliefs.  She seemed to be used to agreeing - verbally, at any rate - with
Joseph's religious opinions, rather than debating them, although she was
quite clearly intelligent enough to hold her own in any such theoretical
debate.  She tolerated her husband's quirks with amusement as well as with
that degree of fondness for which she had for him.
   There was absolutely no question in Jane's mind that Ruthie's birth was
hardly of a virgin.  The question remained, however...  who was the baby
daddy?  Although Mary's interest keeping him secret was for obvious
reasons, why did teens and preteens like Chloe hide his identity as well?
   The interview ended shortly.  Joseph Cohen was more than willing to
share all sorts of mystical gobbledygook, but Jane had gotten her fill of
that.  And it wasn't as though Mary would reveal the baby daddy's identity,
nor even that Ruth was of human conception.
   After the couple bid her farewell, Jeeves led her from the study towards
the front door.  Dixon was still rocking Ruth in his arms, cooing at her.
Jane paused.  "Dixon, would you like to be interviewed?" she asked.
   His eyes lit up, like any kid's would at the attention.  "Would I ever!"
he exclaimed.  As Mary Cohen came in to take Ruth from him, he chirped a
gleeful bye at her, and skipped out of the mansion in front of Jane.
   As Jeeves shut the door behind her, Jane immediately saw the problem. 
It was scorching hot outside; where could she interview the boy?
   "Wanna come see my house?" Dixon asked brightly.  He pointed to another
house in the cul-de-sac, which was a very nice two-story house, though of
course not nearly as spectacular as the Cohen manor.
   "You're neighbors with the Cohens, then?" she asked.
   "Yup," he said, taking her hand and pulling her towards his place.  She
let herself be pulled along, momentarily nonplussed at how warm his small
hand was.  Of course it was warm, she berated herself; it was hot outside.
"They're super nice.  Miz Mary always has Cook make me cookies.""
   "Oh?" Jane asked.
   "She says she makes them herself," he confided, "but I know better." He
giggled boyishly.  "Hurry up, it's HOT out here!"
   Jane was torn between wanting to walk languidly - so as not to build up
any MORE body heat - and wanting to get into an air conditioned interior.
Dixon's insistence broke the stalemate, and she picked up the pace.  As
they walked up onto the porch of his house, she asked, "If you're so hot,
why do you wear long pants?"
   Dixon blushed, which seemed highly uncharacteristic of him.  "Um..." he
mumbled.  "Hafta."
   "I beg your pardon?" Jane asked, surprised by his sudden reticence.  At
that moment, however, the refreshingly cool air of his house blasted her in
the face with welcome relief, and Dixon's odd reaction to her question flew
from her mind.
   She looked around.  It was a well kept house, with all the things one
would expect to find in an upper class household; it wasn't lavish or
tasteless however, and there certainly was no religious iconography
adorning the walls.
   "Home already, Dicks?" a female voice called from the kitchen, as Dixon
led Jane into the very room.  A pretty brunette with jugs as large as
Jane's - but without a bra, so that her nipples poked obviously through her
tight blouse - looked up from a glass of iced tea to see the reporter. 
"Oh, you've got another one, I see."
   "Another?" Jane furrowed her brow quizzically.  "Have you been
interviewed before, Dixon?"
   "Nah," he shrugged.  "This is Miss Jane, Connie!  She's interviewing me
for the newspaper!"
   Connie, who appeared to be in her late 20s or early 30s, regarded Jane
appraisingly.  "Pleased to meet you, Jane.  I'm Connie Lance, Dixon's
cousin and his guardian."
   Jane raised an eyebrow.  Guardian?  Meant she was probably the household
owner as well...  awfully young to be making an income large enough to live
in Kingsburg.  But there was no wedding ring on her finger, nor any sign of
male habitation in the house - other than a very active young boy - so it
had to be Connie's career.  Impressive.
   "I hope I'm not intruding," Jane said.  "Dixon invited me in."
   "I bet he did," Connie laughed.  "I'll let you get to your... 
interview." She gave Jane another unreadable look, then tousled Dixon's
hair as she walked out.  "Clean up your mess, Dicks."
   Dixon had pulled a chair out for her.  "Can I get you anything, Miss
Jane?" he asked politely.
   "You're a very good host," she complimented him, and he beamed.  "If you
have more of the iced tea your cousin was having, I would love some."
   "Sure!" he obliged her and poured them both tall glasses of iced tea. 
He sipped his through a straw - the glass being somewhat big for his hands
- and Jane luxuriated in the refreshing drink.
   "So how long have you lived here?" she asked.
   "All my life!" he answered.
   "9 years?" she hazarded, remembering what Missus Ethel had said.
   "Yeah," he nodded.
   "I've heard lots of good things about you.  Everyone seems to like you."
He grinned proudly.  "Mary Cohen likes you too.  Makes you cookies, lets
you babysit Ruth..."
   "Yeah, Miz Mary is the best!  And so is Ruthie," he said, his face
melting into dreamy fondness.  It was cute really, Jane thought; she
surmised he had a boyish crush on the lovely rich milf.
   "You're over there a lot then, huh?" she prodded.
   "All the time," he agreed.  "Miz Mary gives me cookies, and I sing to
Ruthie, and uh...  yeah." He seemed to have bitten off what he was about to
say, which gave Jane pause.
   "Something else?" she prompted.
   "Nah," he said carelessly, but his eyes didn't meet hers, somewhat
abashed.
   "Well, I'm sure you're a good boy.  Not doing anything wrong," she said,
hoping to prompt more from him.
   "No!" he laughed.  "Everyone loves it."
   "It?" Jane asked.
   "Uh...  nothing." He said.  Jane could swear he was staring straight at
her boobs, but was pretty sure it was only to keep from meeting her gaze.
Well, that was fine.  It was apparently something he was doing that he
didn't want to talk about.  That was fine; he could keep his childish
secrets.  She was only concerned about Mary Cohen.
   "So does Mary have other visitors over often?" she asked.
   "Sure, all the time.  She hosts dinner parties and lunches and teas."
   "You ever get invited to those?" Jane smiled.
   "Well..." he drawled out the word.  "Sorta.  I mean, they're for fancy
ladies, but Miz Mary likes having me around, and I like to help out."
   "So Mary only has fancy ladies visiting her?" Jane probed.
   "No!" he burst out laughing.  Aha!  Perhaps she was getting somewhere.
Her hopes were dashed when Dixon continued, "I'm not a fancy lady, silly!"
   Jane rolled her eyes.  Childish literalism.  It was adorable. 
Everything about the boy was adorable, in fact, she saw why everyone loved
him.  He was so engaging, and his eyes were huge brown puppy eyes, one
could get lost in them...
   She suddenly shook herself out of her reverie, a bit nonplussed.  "So,
other than you, only fancy ladies come to visit?"
   "Yeah," he answered.  "I mean, you have Jim and Harris, but they work
there.  And even though Cook wouldn't call herself fancy, I think she's
purty enough that I call her fancy."
   "Jim and Harris?"
   "The gardener and the butler," Dixon said, as though it should have been
obvious.  Well, so much for the butler's name being Jeeves, Jane thought.
   "Do Jim and Harris get along with Mary?" she asked.
   "I don't think Harris likes her," Dixon confided.  "I think he's jealous
though," he giggled.  "He's been Mister Joseph's only friend for like,
forever, until Miz Mary came along."
   "Jim likes her though?"
   "Well, yeah.  She's nice, everyone likes her."
   Hmmm, maybe now she was getting somewhere.  "And Mary, does she like
Jim?"
   "Mostly," Dixon said.
   Jane arched an eyebrow.  "Mostly?" she settled for regurgitating his
word.
   "Well, she caught Jim snogging the mailman once," Dixon exploded with
laughter.
   Jane's balloon burst.  "Jim is...  gay?"
   "Gay as a rainbow," Dixon said.  "Mary doesn't care, but she doesn't
want Mister Joseph finding out, or he might fire him.  He's super Catholic,
you know.  Chewed Jim out about doing it on the property, then offered to
buy them both a hotel room." He was shaking with laughter at the memory.
   Despite herself, Jane was amused.  "Did they take her up on it?"
   "I think Jim wanted to, but the mailman didn't," Dixon chuckled.
   Jane's brain was scrabbling for purchase.  Every lead, every idea she
had, kept evaporating as she questioned Dixon.  She asked him whether Mary
went to visit anyone, found out she only ventured to see neighbors.  Upon
further inquiry, she found out more about the neighbors than she really
intended, but more than enough to realize that Mary couldn't be having
assignations with any of the men.
   "--and Ulysses called her a lightweight, and then she beat the old man
in a drinking contest!" he finished regaling her.  "Er, don't tell Mister
Joseph about that," he belatedly added.  Jane was thoroughly enthralled;
Dixon was a very good storyteller, or maybe it was just something about the
boy himself.  Very attractive and engaging...
   She shook her head to clear it.  "So...  nothing unusual about Mary
then?" she tried one last time?
   "Other than the fact that she can beat a 500 pound 102 year old man in a
drinking contest?" Dixon laughed.  "Naw.  Say, you seem awfully interested
in Miz Mary.  Were you just interviewing me to find out more about her?"
   Jane blushed.  "Maybe a little.  But you're pretty cool too."
   "It's okay," he smiled.  "I think you're cool too." His eyes gazed into
hers, so endearing and big and brown...
   What the hell was happening to her?  She stood up abruptly.  "Well,
thanks for sharing your time and your stories, Dixon," she said, "but I've,
uh, got to go.  Eat lunch." Yes, that was it.  She was famished, after all.
"Going to find a restaurant in town."
   "I can make you something here," he offered, but she shook her head.
   "Thank you, Dixon, but I do have to go."
   "Aw, it's okay.  I have to go meet someone anyway.  Thanks for
interviewing me, Miss Jane!" He impulsively hugged her, his face mashing
into her stomach, and his hands wrapped around her waist were so hot... 
She awkwardly patted his back, and then practically dashed from the house,
flustered and sweaty.
   She stood in front of her car in the searing hot sun for a full minute,
dazed, before coming to herself and getting in.  She turned the AC on full
blast and took several moments to compose herself.  She had no idea why she
was reacting this way to a 9 year old kid.  Was she so sexually deprived
that one glimpse of a Red Bull can in his pocket was fixating her idiot
libido on him?
   After a little while, she started up the car and drove into the town
square, finding a nice cafe for lunch.  She mentally reviewed all the
information she'd found - precious little actually related to what she
really wanted to discover about Mary Cohen - as she ate, and noted some of
it down in her phone.
   She ate her lunch lingeringly and nursed another glass of iced tea - not
as good as Dixon's - while striking up a conversation with the waitress. 
The teenage girl didn't know the Cohens personally but was in fact
acquainted with Dixon and thought the world of him.  No surprise there;
everyone liked Dixon.
   The girl was more than willing to talk at length about Dixon, but Jane
quickly had to shut down that line of conversation; her idiot libido didn't
need any more fodder.  Although given how much the teenage girl was gushing
about him, maybe Dixon turned more than one girl's libido into an idiot...
   It was an hour after leaving Dixon's house that Jane returned to the
B&B. Missus Ethel was out on the porch in a rocking chair, sewing.  She
greeted her warmly and asked after her day.  Jane made some small talk
before going in.  She had to decompress in her room.  Well, it was Stacy's
room too, but if she knew her little sister, Stace would still be up on
Chloe's room playing any video game she could get her hands on.
   Because of this supposition, Jane was surprised when she heard noise
coming from the back suite, as she put her hand to the knob.  It was... 
she couldn't quite identify it.  Puzzled, she opened the door-
   And had the shock of her life.
   Stacy - her little 14 year old sister - was on her knees on the bed,
wearing nothing but a half-undone bra, riding a gigantic meaty cock that
was stretching her fuzzy nether lips wide!  Her back was to the door, but
her head was tossing back and forth as she moaned lewdly in shameless
virginal pleasure.
   Jane's mouth fell open.  She was so shocked that she didn't see anything
else for a moment.  Split seconds later, she registered that Chloe was also
there, her heavy pregnant body fully naked and sitting atop the face of
whatever guy was fucking her virgin sister.  The preggo teenager was also
moaning, biting her lip in sublime ecstasy as her eyes rolled back in their
sockets.
   Jane couldn't do or say anything, she was utterly mesmerized.  The
stench of musk and sex was thick and heavy in the room, and it invaded her
nostrils, all but intoxicating her as her knees wobbled.  Her gaze riveted
to the massive dick plunging into Stacy's pussy over and over as her sister
bucked gleefully atop it.  Slick juices practically poured down the obese
meaty shaft, tracing their path along fat pulsing veins to stain bloated
nuts that slapped into Stace's bare ass again and again.
   Neither girl - nor whoever they were fucking - noticed Jane, and she
couldn't help her cunt getting soaked as she watched that huge, delicious
cock steadily fuck her teenage sister into shrieking ecstasy.
   It wasn't until Chloe moaned a barely coherent word that Jane's shock
magnified.  "Oh...  yes...  Dicksssssssss!"
   Surprise cascaded over her as she abruptly realized that the cock, while
ridiculously large to begin with, was even more absurdly enormous on the
small skimpy frame to which it was attached.  Short scrawny legs were bent
at the knees as childish hips bucked up into Stacy's cunny.  Thin young
arms reached up to grope Chloe's fat naked tits with small hands.
   Nine year old Dixon Lance was hung like a damn horse and fucking her
little sister!  And Jane couldn't feel anything but rampant desire from it.
She watched in lusty awe as Dixon's gigantic nuts clenched, and pulses of
jizz shot visibly up his shaft in bulging spurts to geyser deep inside
Stacy's 14 year old twat.  Stacy cried out in bliss, convulsing as she
creamed from feeling the virile seed pour into her.
   Dixon kept cumming and cumming, his moans muffled by the preggo pussy
sitting on his face, until jizz leaked out of Stacy's pussy to run in thick
rivulets down his shaft.  As Stacy finally stopping juicing, and Dixon's
nuts finally spent themselves, Jane suddenly jerked to reality.
   "Stacy!" she barked.  "What the hell are you doing?" Of course, it was
obvious what she was doing, but still.
   Stacy turned her head languidly to regard her older sister with a dreamy
expression.  "Hi, Jane...." she mumbled, clearly fuckdrunk on ecstasy.  She
rolled off Dixon's cock, revealing the complete enormity of that huge
fuckpole to Jane's widening eyes, and collapsed back onto the bed.
   Dixon sat up in surprise, Chloe shifting to release his head.  "Miss
Jane!" he gasped.  "Um, I--"
   "Get out of here, Dixon," Jane demanded, her voice at odds with the
thick desire clogging her throat.  The 9 year old boy gulped, pulling up
his pants hurriedly.
   "But he hasn't fucked me yet!" Chloe complained.
   "And you, young lady, get back up to your room," Jane ordered her.
   "I gotta go anyway, Chlo'," Dixon said, noting the time on the clock. 
He kissed her briefly and planted a kiss on Stacy's lips - prompting a
disappointed moan from Jane's little sister when he pulled away - before
hurrying out.  His face was red, clearly abashed.
   Chloe grumbled, grabbing a towel to wrap around herself before grabbing
her clothes and waddling out.  Jane shut the door and rounded on Stacy. 
"What were you thinking?" she demanded.
   "Mmmm," Stacy murmured happily.  Her body was sheened in sweat, and her
pussy was gaping, drooling juices and jizz onto the bedding.  The well hung
boy's musk was heavy in the air, and Jane was seized with a sudden desire
to stick her face between Stacy's legs to smell and taste his seed.
   She ignored the desire though, and gave up trying to talk to Stace, for
now.  She was adrift on a haze of afterglow - and no wonder, after being
thoroughly fucked by that godlike fucktool!
   Jane sat on the bed next to her sister, propping a pillow up against the
headboard upon which to lean back.  She pulled out her phone, looking at
her notes, but the text swam before her.  Her mind was awhirl.
   Dixon was clearly Kingsburg's mysterious baby daddy.  (And he had a cock
the size of an elephant's trunk!) Chloe's baby, Mary Cohen's baby, and all
the other babies of the local boom were his.  (That massive delicious
cock!) She could write a major expose about Mary Cohen's secret lover. 
(And his gigantic dick!).  But...  who would believe her?  A nine year old
boy with a dick larger than any porn star's?  (It could stretch and satisfy
her pussy beyond any imagining!)
   Finally, Jane sighed and put her phone down.  She stood up and
stretched. Dixon's musk still scented the air, heady and intoxicating. 
Stacy was sleeping peacefully, half-naked and ravished.
   Jane had to confront Dixon about Mary Cohen.  And...  yes, she had to
see more of his cock.  That wonderful, gigantic, fantastic, meaty cock!
   Her drive back to the cul-de-sac went in a blur.  She walked up the
sidewalk to his porch, scarcely noticing the scorching heat, so hot she was
already...  hot for a 9 year old boy with a stallion's shlong.
   The door was slightly ajar, so she pushed it open.  "Hello?" she called
tentatively.  There was no answer, so - her better judgment clouded by her
aching, needy pussy - she went inside.  She didn't see or hear anyone
downstairs, but as she climbed the steps, a familiar stench hit her, and
she could hear low moans.
   The sounds of rutting were coming from behind a closed door at the end
of the upstairs hallway as Jane approached it.  She hesitated...  then
pushed it open.
   There, on a bed with a racecar blanket, Dixon's massive horse cock was
being serviced by Mrs.  Mary Cohen.  Dixon's scrawny hands clenched in his
blanket, his head tossing back and forth, as the 40 year old woman slurped
and sucked lewdly on his cock.  She was groping her huge tit in one hand,
and rubbing her pussy down her pants with the other.
   Before Jane's very eyes, Dixon unloaded deep inside Mary's throat, and
the MILF's eyes crossed as she juiced simultaneously, her screams of
passion muffled by the jizz pumping down her glugging throat.
   When they settled down from their highs, Dixon noticed her first.  "Miss
Jane!" he said, surprised.  Some embarrassment, but mostly delight, colored
his tone.
   Mary's head flew off Dixon's cock, as she saw Jane standing there.  Her
face paled.  "Hello there, Mrs.  Cohen," Jane said, grinning triumphantly
and maybe just a tad bit maliciously.
   "Jane," Mary fumbled for words.  "You-- I wasn't--" She looked
helplessly at Dixon, unable to deny what she had just done.  "You can't
tell Joseph."
   "I suppose I can be generous," Jane allowed.  "But generosity should
be...  reciprocated."
   Mary's eyes narrowed shrewdly.  "I do have unfettered access to my
husband's accounts.  Say...  ten million?"
   Jane did her best to keep her eyes from boggling, and mostly succeeded.
Far more than she'd hoped for!  Let her mother try and say that reporting
couldn't get her rich now!  "AND..." she added, pausing as she eyed Dixon's
massive cock, "...I get to fuck him too."
   A ghost of a smile crossed Mary's face, and Dixon grinned happily and
hornily.  "Yes, please, Miss Jane!"
   "We have a deal," Mary said, and she shook Jane's hand before leaving
the room.  Jane was left alone with the boy whose cock she craved beyond
anything she had ever before imagined.
   "Hi, Dixon," she said, her nipples achingly hard.
   "Hi, Miss Jane!" Dixon said.  He was wearing only his shirt and socks,
so Jane followed suit, taking off her shorts and panties, revealing her
trimmed muff, glistening with wetness and eager to be pummeled.
   Dixon's cock was pulsating and throbbing like a wild beast struggling to
break its chains.  It had to be at least a foot long, if not more, and was
as thick around as a soda can.  Precum bubbled out of the tip to run down
his length, along with Mary Cohen's slobber, and probably some of Stacy's
leftover juices too.
   With no preamble, Jane got onto the boy's bed and straddled him, her
pussy dripping hot wet lust onto his cock.  Dixon shivered with pleasure,
and then Jane lowered herself, letting her quivering vulva press lightly on
the 9 year old's obese knob.  "Ohhhhhhhh," she moaned, and bit her lip.
   "Miss Jane..." Dixon moaned, his tenor thick with passion.  She began
lowering herself, and Dixon raised his hips up into her.  Her puffy nether
lips parted around that massive cock, and Jane cried out in pleasure as her
virginal canal was penetrated and stretched apart.  She convulsed, creaming
instantly just from half his cockhead penetrating her, and her juices ran
down his shaft.
   In the throes of her pleasure, her knees buckled, and she dropped down
upon him, his incredibly thick long tool sliding deeply into her slippery
fucktunnel.  This only extended her orgasm, of course, and she tossed her
head back and forth, her hair flying in sweaty tangles as she was overcome
by phenomenal rapture the likes of which she had never known.
   Dixon gripped her waist in his small hands, attempting to steady her but
far too scrawny to do so.  Still, both enjoyed the touch, and Jane finally
came down from her high, his overly large dick fully ensconced within her
slick juicy cunt.  "Ohhh, Dixonnnnn," she murmured.
   She began rising and falling atop him, faster and faster, till she was
bucking atop him as though he were her personal stallion.  Dixon thrust his
hips up into her downward bucks, and his bloated balls slapped into her ass
again and again with lewd wet squelches.  Jane didn't know how long she
rode him, drifting on a haze of wet musky euphoria, but when Dixon began
spurting hot creamy spunk inside her virgin womb, her ecstasy skyrocketed.
   The 20 year old girl shrieked in mind-numbing delight, her pussy
spasming about his cumming cock as she writhed atop him.  Dixon's balls
were inexhaustible cum-factories, and he kept blowing his endless load into
her in massive squirts, each one far larger and thicker than a normal man's
entire wad.
   Somewhere in the back of her mind, Jane remembered that Dixon's seed was
so potent that it apparently rendered birth control ineffective...  but she
didn't care.  She would get pregnant, Stacy was probably already
pregnant... but with her newfound fortune, she and Stacy could move to
Kingsburg, where they would have unfettered access to this boy-god... 
whenever they could pull him away from all his other baby mamas, of course!
   **********
   DISCLAIMER: This is always implicit in my stories, but let me make it
explicit.  I in no way condone any sexual or illegal activities with minors
in real life.  In real life, young boys and girls are not equipped,
emotionally or mentally or physically, for sexual activity.  My stories,
even those taking place in a 'realistic' setting, are pure fantasy in that
the fictional children inhabiting my stories are completely capable of
mature sexual love and lust.
   COMMENTS: Like many authors, I love hearing positive feedback and
suggestions!  If you like, email me: wonderotica DOT 1 AT gmail DOT com
  
A Little Town's Big Secret Ch. 01