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Life on Bedlow Street (c) Knave of Hearts 2003
   Chapter 1 It was early on Tuesday, the 18th of May 1925.  The small
coastal town of Kingsport, Virginia was still waking up.  The spring
morning's cool, bright sun shone through the window of a white clapboard
house on Bedlow Street.  A pool of sunlight illuminated a young man lying
on his bed.  His fist was a blur of motion along the length of his cock. 
His body tensed, the tendons on his neck standing out like halyards.
   His eyes were screwed shut in pleasure.  In his mind, Kelly Parker knelt
in front of him in her cheerleader uniform.  Her red lips made a perfect
ring over his throbbing manhood and her blonde ponytail bobbed back and
forth as she swallowed his shaft over and over again.  She removed his cock
head from her mouth and licked its plum colored tip like an ice cream cone.
"I can't wait for you to make me a woman," she said in his dream, her voice
husky with pent up lust.
   His thin hips jerked toward the ceiling and thick white cream spewed
from his prick.  Spent, he groaned and rolled onto his side, holding his
cock so that his seed didn't drip onto the bedspread.  He reached over to
his nightstand for a tissue and wiped his cock clean, just like he did
every morning.  He normally relieved himself before school, something he
was sure all 15-year-old males did.
   "Bud.  BUD!!  Come down for breakfast or you'll be late for school."
   Bud Lostridge wiped cum off his hand and pulled his trousers on.  He was
almost out of the room when he remembered the book he'd borrowed from his
buddy, Thorny.  Thorny called it a "blue book" and said that his dad had
bought it at McPherson's Dime Store "behind the news counter." They'd spent
a few afternoons in Bud's old treehouse, unselfconsciously pulling at their
peckers while they studied the grainy pictures of plump women and skinny
men in strange positions.  Bud took a last look at the picture book and
stuffed it into his desk drawer before running out of the room.
   His mother stood at the foot of the stairs.  Her green eyes sparkled,
the way they always did when she was starting to get mad.  Bud thundered
down the stairs and she stepped aside, like a matador in the corrida.  As
usual, her auburn hair was perfectly arranged and the pleats of her dress
razor sharp.
   "Robert Jefferson Lostridge Junior, you're going to be late," she said
as she gave him a quick peck on the cheek.  She stuffed an apple into his
hand as he ran out the front door.
   "Rebecca," Harriet Lostridge shifted her attention to her 18-year-old
daughter.  "Stop primping and go to school."
   "Mother," Rebecca whined.  The 18-year-old adjusted the way the large
letterman's sweater hung around her neck one final time.  Her starched
white blouse showed off her large breasts admirably.
   "She's got my figure," Harriet thought, "All boobs and curves.  Not like
these flapper girls that are all the rage."
   "Lance will be here soon.  I won't be late," Rebecca said.
   Before Harriet could respond, her husband trotted down the stairs. 
"Gotta run," he sang and stuffed his hat on to his head.  Harriet slowed
him down long enough to allow her to straighten his tie and give him a kiss
on the cheek.
   "I'm going over to the diner for lunch with Scooter, so tell Millie not
to bother making anything for me," he said as he dashed through the front
door.
   He'll come home smelling like cigar smoke and beer in other words,
Harriet thought as RJ ran down the porch steps toward the street.  Over
RJ's shoulder she saw a small Model T rattle up to the curb.  "Becca, Lance
is here."
   Rebecca skipped down the front walk as her tall, muscular, boyfriend
held the gate open for her.  "Bye, Mom," she called from the car as Lance
pulled away in a cloud of smoke.  Harriet caught herself staring at her
daughter's boyfriend.  Rebecca called him a dreamboat and, looking at the
six foot tall, blonde, blue eyed Lance, Harriet had to agree.
   With everyone on their way to start a new day, the house still for the
moment, Harriet paused to look at her reflection, turning to see herself
from all angles.  "Still a good looking ol' broad," she murmured to
herself. She had retained her figure despite being 37 years old and having
had two children.  She was particularly proud of her breasts, the large
globes having not lost their battle with gravity.  RJ used to love to play
with them, she remembered, not that he's shown a lot of interest in the
last few years.
   She retreated down the hallway to the kitchen.  A petite black woman
stood over the sink doing the dishes.  Harriet poured herself a cup of
coffee and glanced at the front page of the newspaper.
   "Morning, Millie."
   "Mawnin, Miz Harriet," the colored girl said.  "I suppose Mistah RJ will
be lunching down to the diner?"
   Harriet picked up her purse and checked her reflection in the mirror of
her compact case.  "Yes, and I will be at the McPherson's until about two."
She picked up her hat and gloves, checking her reflection one last time. 
"Just start the roast as usual.  We'll have dinner at five thirty."
   Millie didn't look up from her sink as Harriet left the house.  She just
smiled to herself and put a soapy dish under the rinse water.  Ever since
Prohibition had started, Mister RJ had gone to Dennehy's Diner for a beer
and a whore on Tuesday and Miss Harriet had gone to play mah-jongg and have
a cocktail with the ladies.  Millie shook her head and dried her hands.
   After almost a decade of washing, cooking, and cleaning, she knew the
family's routine like the back of her hand.  The Lostridge family was as
regular as clock work.  Regular.  Right down to Mister RJ's night to give
pretty Miss Harriet her weekly ration of loving.  Bed sheets never lie, she
thought.
   Even though she'd just turned 20, she'd been the Lostridges' maid for
almost 10 years.  Her momma had been the Lostridge family cook and had
brought her into the house as a nursery maid and playmate for Bud.  Even
though she was only 5 years older than the boy, she'd come to the house
every day except Sunday and helped Harriet with the housework and the
children.  Since her momma had passed away of influenza right after the
war, Millie had been cook and maid for the Lostridges.  The work wasn't too
hard and the Lostridge house was better than working in a factory.
   Chapter 2 RJ got to his office in downtown Kingsport in record time.  He
checked his watch.  The Number 15 bus hadn't arrived at the stop yet.  He
watched the street in the reflection of the bank's front window.  He gave
his reflection his best Douglas Fairbanks look and told himself that he
still looked good for a middle-aged bank manager.
   Casually scanning the area, he sidled over to the newsstand and
pretended to browse the stall for magazines.  His hands clenched and
unclenched nervously.  He was about to commit adultery and, in a small
Southern town things like that had to be done discreetly.  He'd been
watching her for weeks, carefully sizing her up.  While planning his
assault on young Elsa Flint's virtue, he had rationalized the whole affair
to himself.  He needed an outlet outside of his home, a means to vent his
wilder lusts without shaming himself in front of his wife.  Other men had
mistresses.  Even he'd done it before.  Taking one last look at the pulp
serials, he told himself that he'd have some fun with this new girl for a
few months and then break it off.  No one would know and no one would get
hurt.
   The bus arrived and, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the person he
was waiting for.  Tall and lean, Elsa Flint was easy to spot descending
from the bus, and RJ quietly fell into step behind her as she entered the
building.  RJ didn't look at Elsa, although he used the polished brass
elevator door to admire the way her dress flowed over her breasts and hips
and the green color accentuated her bobbed red hair.  He found himself
comparing Elsa's small breasts to his wife Harriet's pillowy bosom.  Elsa's
hips were slimmer as well but, RJ opined, there was cushion on the
20-year-old girl.
   The elevator's brass door opened and RJ calmly stood at the back of the
car.  People filed in and turned around, staring at the dial at the top of
the door as its hand moved from number to number.  RJ stood still, moving
his hand slowly as if reaching for his pocket.  When his palm touched his
jacket, it turned and reached sideways.  RJ's fingertips brushed against
the skirt of Elsa's cotton dress.  She stiffened but didn't cry out or try
to remove his hand.  Encouraged, he cupped his hand, pressed his palm
against her firm little bottom, and gave it a light squeeze.  Still, she
didn't make a sound or try to shuffle away from his contact.
   The door opened to RJ's floor.  "Excuse me," he said to the man in front
of him, "my floor." Elsa's hip contacted his as they both tried to squeeze
out of the elevator's door.  "Good morning, Miss Flint," he said with a
smirk, noting the light flush on her neck.
   -=)0(=
   Although the high school was only six or seven blocks from her house,
Rebecca preferred to ride with her boyfriend Lance.  Attracted by his car,
his even white smile, and his thick meaty arms, Rebecca loved the way the
other kids looked at her enviously when she was with him.  She was the
stunningly beautiful captain of the cheerleading squad.  He was the
gorgeously handsome varsity pitcher.  The Student Body President and the
Homecoming Queen.  They were the perfect couple, she thought.  They'd even
been voted "Most Likely to Succeed."
   Lance shot her a crooked grin and dropped his hand from the gear shift
to her knee.  This had also become part of their routine.  He'd drive her
to school, park behind the hedge that surrounded the football practice
field, and enjoy a brief fondling session before school started.  Every
day, his hand got a little higher up her thigh or little deeper into her
blouse.
   Today he trailed his hand up to her knee.  His fingertip contacted the
smooth flesh under the hem of her school uniform, but she quickly trapped
his hand in hers.
   "Lance!  Stop it.  You'll wrinkle my dress." He didn't move his hand,
his strength easily defeating her.  Rebecca stuck out her bottom lip in a
fake pout.  "We can meet at McPherson's soda counter after school and you
can apologize."
   He laughed.  "Yeah, Babe.  Whatever you say." Shifting his grip to her
wrist, he pulled her across the bench seat and ground her palm against his
groin.  Rebecca gasped as she felt the thick sausage-like member under his
woolen trousers.  "But I'm going to introduce you to this one day soon. 
I've got big plans for you after the Graduation Week Dance."
   Rebecca twisted her hand free and pushed the Model T's door open. 
Clutching her books to her chest, her shoes made staccato sounds against
the sidewalk as she walked quickly toward the school building.  She could
feel Lance's eyes follow her but she didn't dare look back as she ducked
around the corner of the hedge.
   -=)0(=
   Millie dropped her laundry basket on the floor and quickly pulled the
blanket off Bud's bed.  Automatically reaching to straighten the sheet,
Millie laughed when she saw a small collection of yellowish stains in the
middle of the bed.  Raising the sheet to her face, she smelled Bud's
boy-cum.  The stains were fresh and his seed smelled sharp and tangy.
   The thought of Bud playing with himself reminded Millie why she was
hurrying through her morning chores.  Even though she didn't normally do
the sheets on Tuesday, Millie threw clean sheets on the bed and
straightened the blanket.  Today was grocery day and she wanted to be done
with the bedrooms before the vegetables got delivered.
   -=)0(=
   RJ had watched Elsa all morning through his office's glass window. 
Seeing her start to deliver the morning mail, he pulled the window shade
down and cracked the door.  When Elsa's soft knock came, RJ did his best to
look as if he were engrossed in the papers on his desk.
   "Why come in.  Elsa, isn't it?"
   "Yes, sir."
   RJ stood and moved to the door, holding it open to let the girl enter
the small office.  Elsa didn't meet his eyes as she moved straight for the
desk.  He quietly closed it behind her and leaned against it, watching her
skirt pull taut against her rear end as she collected the contents of his
out tray.
   He slid behind her.  She stood quickly and bumped against his chest. 
RJ's hands cradled her waist to steady her but didn't move.  He took a deep
breath of her perfume and shifted his hands along her dress's beltline.
   "A smart girl like you is too valuable to leave in the admin pool for
too long," he whispered into her ear.  He brushed his cheek against her
hair but she remained stiff and unmoving.  "I could be a lot of help to
someone looking to move up in the company.  Someone looking for a mentor or
an ally."
   His hands found the line of buttons that ran down the front of her
dress. Elsa stood stock-still, afraid to even breathe.  RJ's fingers
followed the buttons until he cupped her breasts, thankful that she wore a
brassiere rather than an old-fashioned corset.
   "Noo," she whispered, but she seemed to lean back against him, thawing
under his touch.
   Someone knocked on his door and RJ took a quick step away from the
trapped office girl.  Holding a sheaf of papers to hide his bulging crotch,
he called out, "Come in."
   RJ sat behind his desk, only half listening to the mundane office
matter. He saw Elsa glance furtively at him as she shuffled through the
office correspondence.  He gave her his most charming grin but she ducked
her head and left the office, her heels clacking on the tile.
   Just thirty minutes later, RJ strode into Dennehy's Diner and scanned
the tables for his friend Scooter.  He'd been a friend of Scot McPherson's
since they were boys.  They had shared everything with each other, played
on the same sports teams, and even joined the Army together.  Peering into
the dim interior, RJ listened for Scooter's braying laugh to give away his
position.  Hearing his friend at the far end of the counter, RJ walked over
and smoothly slid on to a lunch stool.
   "How they hanging, Scooter?" RJ's smile was split by his broad grin.
   "Low and a little to the left.  Haw, haw." He snapped his fingers to get
the waitress' attention.  "Goldie, bring us some Specials."
   The girl shuffled down to their end of the lunch counter, the cigarette
she'd tucked behind one ear held back a strand of her brittle, bleached
hair.  "Anything else?" she arched her eyebrow with a knowing look.
   RJ sat back so that Goldie could see his crotch and adjusted his
semi-stiff member.  He usually enjoyed poking Goldie in the storeroom
before returning to work, but today RJ wanted to get back to the office and
continue his conversation with Miss Flint.  "I'll just have a cigar today,"
he said, opting for a quick blowjob instead.
   Goldie cocked her hands on her bony hips and pulled her shoulders back
to emphasize her small breasts.  "So the pie's not to your liking anymore?"
She scribbled on her order pad.  "And how 'bout you Scooter?  You in the
mood for a slice of Goldie's pie?"
   Scooter brayed again, "Naw, Goldie, not today.  I'll have the cigar as
well."
   Miffed at the loss of income, the waitress walked away muttering but the
men had already closed the subject.
   "RJ, what's come over you?  You're usually the first man into Goldie's
panties.  Don't tell me that Harriet's keeping you satisfied."
   RJ snorted but didn't answer until Goldie, who'd brought two large
glasses of home made beer, had left.  "Never happen." He took a deep
draught of the beer before continuing, "I'm working on a new playmate.  A
nice little redheaded piece that lives over on Howland Hill."
   "I thought you liked them Dago gals up in Hillside."
   RJ shrugged.  "Looking for something that don't bite the hand that's
feeding it.  Or the dick that's fucking it, if you know what I mean.  This
one seems to like a man that'll treat her with a firm hand."
   Scooter shot him a broad wink in reply.  "How far have you gone with
this theory?"
   "A man just knows these things, Scooter.  A man just knows."
   Goldie served the sandwiches and RJ attacked his lunch, but Scooter was
in a talkative mood.
   "I thought Harriet had 'bout caught you the last time.  You were banging
that little brown haired shipping clerk, wasn't it?"
   "Anyway," RJ ignored Scooter's jibe and washed a mouthful of lunch down
with some beer, burping loudly, "once I get this little fishie on the hook,
I'll be set.  I'll have her over my desk before the end of the week.  Then
we can settle into a nice schedule.  She's got a little apartment.  It'll
all be nice and discreet." He took another bite and talked around a
mouthful of food.  "I might even encourage Harriet to take up her art
classes again so as I can have a little evening time of my own."
   "Well, my lad," Scooter pushed his plate away and dabbed at mouth with a
paper napkin, "you keep up the good work and let your old buddy Scooter
know if there's a chance for a party.  In the meantime, I'm headed around
the corner for a piss and first shot at Goldie's mouth."
   -=)0(=
   Harriet left her mah-jongg club early, making the excuse that she had a
splitting headache.  Lizzie McPherson had been into her second martini
before the end of the first game and, as usual, had started talking about
sex, her favorite topic.  She'd titillate the other ladies with tales of
her husband's size or stamina, ending each story with a laugh that sounded
like a choking crow.
   Harriet actually did have a headache, but whether it was from Lizzie's
cackling about the size of Scooter's manhood, she couldn't tell.  In short,
Harriet was miserable.  She had been miserable for a while already,
wondering why her husband wasn't as interested or active in their bedroom
as Lizzie claimed hers was.  Right after Christmas, she'd suspected that RJ
might have a mistress but he'd denied it strenuously and she'd had no real
proof.  The last few months had passed without incident but Harriet still
felt uneasy.
   A dull routine invaded their bed.  On Tuesday nights, she and RJ would
retire early, climb into bed, and turn off the lights.  She would roll on
to her side and RJ, lying behind her like two spoons in a drawer, would
lift her leg and insert himself.  After a few moments of silent thrusting
and pawing, he'd cum and roll away, leaving her needs unsatisfied and her
legs sticky.
   Her thoughts kept her occupied as the trolley wound its way through the
small town.  Stepping off the trolley at the end of Bedlow Street, Harriet
could see the grocery store's delivery truck parked on the street.  She
didn't think that this was unusual and, entering her house as usual, she
was about to set her purse on the hallway table when she heard a soft cry
from the kitchen.  Curious, she tiptoed down the hall, staying as quiet as
she could.  She heard the sound again and peered around the corner into the
kitchen.
   The sight of in the kitchen froze Harriet in the doorway.  Millie was
kneeling in front of one of the largest black men Harriet had ever seen. 
His huge, hulking body dwarfed the girl as she sucked his cock.  She sat
back on her heels and took his massive piece of meat out of her mouth for a
moment.
   "Tyrone, you got the nicest thang I ever seen.  I kin hardly wait to get
this big ol' tool inside me."
   Millie held his thick penis in both hands.  His enormous shaft was as
long and thick as a baby's forearm, its tip like a small jet black
doorknob. She reverently peeled back his foreskin and applied her mouth to
it with vigor.  While she licked and sucked the head of his cock, she
pumped her tiny fist along his shaft; her other hand cupped and kneaded his
balls.  Tyrone held Millie's head between his monstrous paws, his eyes
tightly closed as her head bobbed over his member.
   Harriet, still hidden in the shadows, snuck a hand into her blouse and
teased one of her nipples.  All she could think of was the last time RJ had
made love to her with the lights on.  It had been months ago but she
remembered it as clearly as if it were yesterday.  His cock looked nothing
like Tyrone's, of course, being white, circumcised, and not as thick.
   Tyrone's cock looked like it was at least a foot long.  It stood out
straight from his body, shiny and slick with Millie's spit.  Standing up,
Millie held it like a handle and pulled Tyrone close to her.
   "Now I'm gonna git me some of this.  Right here on this table."
   Millie climbed on top of the kitchen table and pulled her knees up to
her tits.  She held the lips of her pussy open for him and gave a long,
deep moan as Tyrone sank the length of his prick inside her in deliberate,
gentle pushes.
   Once his hips met hers, Tyrone slowly pulled out.  "Oh, Baby, your
coozy's so nice," his voice a deep bass growl.
   He reversed course and sank his cock back into her buttery depths.  "Ah
gotta go slow.  You're so tight.  I'll lose it too soon."
   Harriet watched them fuck, her hand tugging at her swollen nipple and
her breath becoming ragged.  She felt a curious heat grow between her legs.
By this time, Tyrone had increased the tempo of his strokes and Millie was
thrashing around on the table as he filled her pussy again and again.  From
her vantage point in the hallway, Harriet watched Tyrone grimace, his hips
jerking back and forth.
   Millie shouted, "Gahd.  Oh my Gahd.  Unnhh.  Unnhh." She craned her neck
and watched her boyfriend's thick black cock plunging in and out of her
furry snatch.  "Fuck me.  Keep on fucking me.  Gaaahhhhd damn," she cried
out and clamped her legs around his waist.
   Harriet's lust churned inside her as she watched her maid screaming in
the throes of orgasm.  Her knees weak, she stumbled away from the kitchen.
Heedless of any noise she might make, she pulled herself up the stairs
leaning on the banister rail.  Lurching from one side of the hallway to the
other, she staggered into her bedroom and collapsed on her bed.
   Tyrone, his legs momentarily weak, helped Millie sit up on the table. 
"I think somebody's home.  I heard something right toward the end."
   "Nobody's supposed to be home until after lunch.  What did you hear?"
   "With you carrying on, it wasn't like I could hear hardly anything."
   Millie wiped between her legs with a tea towel before hopping off the
table.  Standing on her toes, she gave Tyrone a quick kiss.
   "You git back to work and I'll go find out what's going on." She gave
his still swollen shaft a loving squeeze.  "And tell your boss that they
done forgot the taters in your delivery.  How'm I supposed to make roast
beef with all the trimmings if I don't have any taters?"
   Smoothing her dress, she walked toward the front door and looked out on
to the porch.  Seeing nothing, she climbed the stairs toward the bedrooms.
Millie moved up the narrow hallway peeking into each bedroom for their
visitor.  Reaching the end of the hallway, Millie stole a look inside the
master bedroom.
   Harriet lay on top of the bedclothes, her dress rumpled in a ball on the
floor and her hand buried in her pussy.  Millie saw her mistress use her
other hand to tug and pinch her red, erect nipples.  Harriet's fingers
moved in and out of her pussy, palm firmly massaging her erect clitoris. 
Harriet gasped, her hand clenching one of her firm breasts, and gave a
small shudder.  Lost in her climax, she rolled on to her side and sighed.
   Millie turned and slipped back down the stairs without a sound.
   Chapter 3 Back in the office, RJ waited for Elsa Flint to make her
afternoon rounds.  Her job was to collect the legal documents from the
managers' offices twice a day.  It was a schedule that RJ hoped to use to
his advantage.  When she knocked on his door, he leaned back in his chair
and called her in.  She didn't meet his eyes as she shuffled through the
blue covered folders in his out tray.
   "Have you thought about my offer?"
   Her hands trembled but she nodded slightly.
   "Come over here," he invited her behind his desk with a wave of his
hand, "I won't hurt you, but we need to make sure we understand what we're
going to do for each other."
   She stood beside his chair, her hands clasped submissively in front of
her.  He could sense the turmoil inside her.  From watching her for several
weeks, he knew that she was ambitious.  He just needed to make sure that
she'd play along with his little games in return for his help in getting a
quick promotion out of the administrative pool.
   By the time she left, some twenty minutes later, RJ was sure that he'd
read Elsa Flint like a book.  She hadn't hesitated when he'd made her hold
up her dress and show him her pussy.  Standing in his office with her sex
on display, she had been goaded by RJ into admitting what she wanted and
what she was willing to do in return for his help.
   Her hands shook as she handed over her apartment key.  "I'll get it
copied and you can get it back before the end of the day," he told her,
making clear that her apartment was where they would hold their "counseling
sessions."
   At his command, Elsa crawled between his knees and took his cock into
her mouth.  Her efforts were energetic rather than effective and he'd had
to slow her down when her teeth scraped his sensitive skin.  He promised
her that she'd have plenty of time to practice her technique while he
worked on getting her promoted to junior associate.
   -=)0(=
   Thorny Thornbush skidded to a halt.  Bud cursed his best friend quietly
but Thorny was so excited he didn't notice.  Furtively, the boys huddled
behind a trash dumpster.
   "Didja get it?" Thorny poked at the bulge under Bud's shirt.
   Bud pulled the quart jar out of his shirt and held it between them.  The
clear liquid looked like water.
   "Grandpa's Top Grade Corn Squeezin's," Bud pushed at the wax sealing the
jar's stopper.  "Dad will never miss it from the back shed.  I took it from
an open box." He tucked the bottle back inside his shirt.  "What about you?
Did you talk with Goldie?"
   "Yep.  She'll do us both for one quart.  I'll go into the diner and get
her.  You meet us out back in the alley with the payment."
   Both boys quivered with excitement.  Thorny, whose real name was Quentin
R.  Thornberry the Third, had almost been sent to detention when Mrs. 
Roberts, the librarian, caught him groping his crotch in the book stacks.
Even as the boys made their way to Dennehy's Diner, he tugged at his pants,
trying to adjust his dick inside the confines of his drawers.  The day had
come for them to lose their virginity and they knew that they'd remember it
forever.
   Bud went the appointed place and waited in the alley, nervously
clutching the quart jar.  Finally, the diner's back door opened and Goldie
stepped out into the shadowy alleyway.  She wiped her hands on her apron
and looked him over.  Before he could say anything, Thorny walked quickly
into the alley from the street.
   The waitress tucked her hair behind her ears.  Bud thought she looked
tired.  Dark circles lay under her eyes, her hair was lank, and she smelled
like stale hamburgers.
   "So you boys are actually going through with this, huh?"
   Bud held up the jar, still gripping it with two hands.  Goldie took it
from him and popped the lid off with a practiced swipe of her thumb.  She
took a deep drink but spilled some of the precious liquid when she started
coughing.  Bud caught the jar before she could drop it and took a sip.  The
taste of the raw liquor bit his throat and burned a trail down to his
stomach.
   "Damn," Goldie said as soon as she could catch her breath, "where'd you
get this?" She took the jar back greedily, "I'll just save this for later.
This popskull is too good to waste in a hurry.  Who's first?"
   Both boys stared at her in silence.  Thorny tugged at his swollen groin
and looked back and forth between Bud and Goldie.
   "I'll go.  I gotta cum or I'll bust," Thorny said.
   Goldie chuckled and set the jar down by the door.  Kneeling on a
flattened box, she tucked her dress under her apron strings and exposed her
thin flanks.
   "All right boys, let's get down to business before the cook comes
looking for me.  Bud, pull that milk crate over here while Quentin makes
himself comfortable behind me."
   Bud's cock stood straight and proud from his trousers.  Goldie licked
her lips and slowly stroked his cock.  Her hands felt rough and the feeling
wasn't pleasant.
   "Mmmm, size must run in the family," she murmured.  She had just put the
head into her mouth when she pulled back sharply.  Swatting at Thorny, she
looked over her shoulder at the eager teen, "Hey, get that thing wet before
you try and poke it in me."
   Thorny spit on his palm and rubbed the lubricant on to his cock. 
Satisfied that he could be trusted to handle the rest, she turned her
attention back to Bud's cock.  After a few quick licks along the shaft,
Goldie started working over his manhood in a very mechanical way, jacking
his shaft as she slavered her tongue over his cock head.  At the same time,
Thorny had stick his thin pecker into her pussy, rutting frantically for a
few moments before grabbing Goldie's hips and growling as he pumped his
seed inside her.
   Bud's orgasm took a little longer.  Goldie's fist rapidly pumped his
thick shaft, her cheeks hollowed as she sucked his plum sized knob.  Bud
reached out without thinking and pulled her head forward, shoving his cock
into her mouth.
   "Shhiiiiyyyeett."
   Suddenly coming back to his senses, he heard Goldie gagging and let go
of her head.  The girl sat back on her haunches and used her apron to wipe
at the thick rivulets of cream that had escaped her mouth.  Checking her
wrist watch, she said, "There might be time for you all to switch, but
you've got to let me catch my breath and take a drink."
   Bud's hands shook as he stood up.  He tucked his cock back into his
pants.  The idea of sticking his dick where Thorny's had just been wasn't
very appealing.
   "Uhh, that's OK Goldie," he stammered, not wanting to look scared in
front of Thorny, "I'll take a rain check if that's all right with you.  I
gotta get home before my Mom starts wondering why I ain't back from school
yet."
   Thorny looked down and shuffled his feet.  "Bud's right.  I should go,
too.  Can we come back at the same time tomorrow?"
   Goldie shook the dust from her dress, pulling her apron to cover the red
marks on her knees.  Picking the quart jar off the ground, she stopped and
blew Bud a kiss.  "I'll be here boys.  We'll just call today the first
round."
   As they retrieved their bikes, Bud couldn't stop himself from asking,
"So what was it like?  You know, inside her."
   Thorny appeared to ponder his answer before playfully punching his
friend.  "Whaddya think?  It was great."
   "No, really, what was it like?"
   "Well.  Actually it was kind of like sticking my dick in a hole and
stirring it around looking for the sides.  Nice, ya understand, but
completely different from Rosy and her four sisters."
   Coming to the top of Bedlow Street, the boys turned into the alley that
ran between the houses and made their way quickly to Bud's back gate.
   "Time for this afternoon's second show," Bud said as he slipped the
latch open and looked inside to make sure that the coast was clear.
   -=)0(=
   While her brother experimented only a few blocks away with Goldie,
Rebecca pushed open the heavy glass door of McPherson's drug store.  She
strolled past the news rack on her way to the lunch counter.  Shooting a
dazzling, if condescending, smile at the boy behind the counter, she leaned
over the row of bar stools and gave her order.
   "Can you get me a Lemon Coke, Stevie?  You're a dear."
   The other girls batted their eyes as they teased and flirted with
Stevie. He knew that they all called him Stevie the Soda Jerk when they
thought he couldn't hear, but he accepted their blown kisses and false
swoons with a good sense of humor.  Once he'd served Rebecca her drink, she
glided over to the booth where the other cheerleaders sat and gossiped.
   Rebecca and Kelly Palmer sat side by side, talking about the big dance
that was coming up.  Kelly quietly admitted that she didn't yet have a date
for the dance.  Instead, she tried to steer the conversation toward what
Rebecca and Lance would wear, a topic that set the entire table to
chattering about dresses and colors that were suitable for the dance.
   While they talked Lance entered the store and led several other baseball
players toward the lunch counter.  The boys threw themselves into a booth
and shouted orders at Stevie.  Stevie took their abuse in silence as he
wrote the hamburger and drink orders on his pad.  The girls watched the
boys pose and strut, giggling behind their hands.  Unseen by the others,
Rebecca tugged Kelly's skirt under the table.
   "Come with me to the bathroom," Rebecca said.
   Kelly slid out of the booth and led the way to the small ladies' room.
Once inside, Kelly fished a cigarette out of her purse and lit it while
Rebecca checked under the stall doors to make sure that they were alone.
   "Kelly, has Bud asked you to the dance?"
   Kelly coughed and looked at her friend with some amazement.  "Bud?  He's
- no, he hasn't asked me.  In fact, the only time he talks with me is to
tease me."
   Rebecca borrowed the cigarette and took a drag, neatly blowing the smoke
out of her nose.  "He's had a crush on you for years.  I'll talk some sense
into him, you can count on it.  He'll ask you before the end of the week."
   "What about you?  You're going with Lance aren't you?"
   Rebecca took another drag from the cigarette and passed it back to her
friend.  "I guess so," the blue smoke wreathed her head as she exhaled. 
"I'm thinking about breaking up with him after graduation, though."
   "The King and Queen of Kingsport High going splitsville?  Christ, that'd
be the social disaster of the summer.  What's the matter?  Have you found
another man?"
   "No.  I just need a change.  Somebody who won't grab my butt or paw my
boobs every time I come close."
   "When you find Mister Perfect, you make sure he's got a friend for me,"
Kelly giggled.
   Stevie had watched Rebecca walk toward the bathrooms under hooded eyes.
Rather than give the ball players any chance to renew their verbal abuse,
he sorted silverware, keeping his head down as he caught snatches of
conversation.
   "She's going to give it up at the dance," Lance boasted to his friends.
"She's been teasing me every morning.  I can tell she wants it."
   The other boys guffawed, elbowing each other as they looked toward the
girl's bathroom.  Lance continued with some detailed descriptions of his
plans for his girlfriend but quieted down as Rebecca and Kelly emerged from
the bathroom.  One of the boys tried unsuccessfully to smother a coarse
chuckle as they watched Rebecca approach the table.  Lance relished the
looks of envy and admiration from his buddies, each one of them undressing
Rebecca with his eyes and wishing that he could be Lance the night of the
dance.
   "Lance, I've got to go home.  Did you want to walk with me or can you
give me a ride?"
   "Let's take the jalopy, Sheba.  You know what they say: A bad ride's
better than a good walk any day."
   Lance got up from the booth, acknowledging the laughs of his sycophants
with a casual wave of his hand.  Wrapping his arm around Rebecca's thin
waist, he slowly led her out of the store, taking his time so that everyone
had time to notice him.
   The drive through Kingsport's narrow streets gave Lance another
opportunity to try to slip his hand under Rebecca's pleated skirt.  He
parked and leaned over to give Rebecca a kiss but she pushed him away.
   "Not where my parents or their friends could see.  I don't need that
kind of reputation."
   "But, Babe, look what you do to me," he said, indicating the large lump
in his trousers.  "You can't keep teasing me like this.  I've got to have
you.  You know I love you."
   Rebecca sighed.  She had known that getting him to take her home would
lead to this.  She looked up and down the quiet little street.  No one was
in sight so she scooted over a fraction.  The Model T's seats weren't all
that wide to begin with and she had to maneuver her way around the gear
lever.  He'd already unbuttoned his fly and she gave his swollen member a
soft pat.  He groaned and clenched his teeth as she ran her fingertips
along the length of his throbbing rod.  Slipping a finger in between the
buttons of his BVDs, she stroked the smooth shaft and felt it lurch under
her touch.
   "My, you are in a state, aren't you," Rebecca whispered.
   "Take it out," he said, moving his hand to release his cock.
   "I'll do it.  You just sit there," she said as she pushed his hands away
and quickly undid his fly.
   Lance's cock sprang into her hand.  Her stomach fluttered as the eight
inch prong slapped against his shirt front, bobbing in time with his pulse.
She always felt torn at these times.  She heard a voice in her head urging
to take his thing and do all of the slutty things he kept asking her to do.
At the same time, another voice that sounded like her mother's, told her to
run away and save her reputation as a "nice girl."
   Suddenly she remembered where she was - sitting in a car on Bedlow
Street in broad daylight with a man's cock in her hand.  Rebecca quickly
formed a tight ring around Lance's shaft with her fingers and jerked him
off with short, rapid strokes.  She looked up from her work to see Lance
grit his teeth, his eyes screwed shut.
   "Almost," he grunted, "yeah, that's it."
   His hand covered hers as he came.  A jet of thick white cream arched
between them, spattering Rebecca's skirt.  Lance grabbed for his
handkerchief and wiped his cum off of his hand and wrist.  Balling it up,
he tossed it out the car's window without offering it to Rebecca.
   "Thanks," he said with his usual cocky tone.  "I'll see you tomorrow."
   Rebecca knew better than to complain about the semen that he'd purposely
shot onto her clothes.  She knew that he'd just laugh and tell her that if
she would take his thing in her mouth like he'd asked she wouldn't have to
worry about "his aim." She left the car without a word and ran up her
driveway.
   Instead of going in to the front door and risking a meeting with her
mother, Rebecca slipped around the side of the house and went down the
stairs to the laundry room.  She stole into the basement, carefully opening
the old door so that it did not creak.  She needed a few moments alone;
both to clean her skirt before it stained and to relieve the swirling,
tingling feeling between her legs.
   Rebecca stepped around the staircase that led to the kitchen and stopped
in her tracks.  Illuminated by the dim light of the basement window, a huge
black man loomed over Millie.  Rebecca recognized the man as the grocery
store's delivery driver, Tyrone, but she was puzzled because he had no
reason to come to the laundry room.  She was about to ask what was going on
when Millie moved slightly and Rebecca's voice caught in her throat.
   The cock in Millie's hands dwarfed the one she'd just held because,
although Millie had both hands around Tyrone's impressive pole, the head
was still clearly visible.  Even in the shadowy light, Rebecca could see
that Millie's hand only barely circled the girth of his tool.
   Millie's tongue darted over the dark black tip of Tyrone's cock.  Using
one hand, she carefully pushed his foreskin back and took the head of the
delivery man's cock into her mouth.  Rebecca thought that Millie would gag
but the maid deftly worked her mouth to take more and more of the salami
sized penis.  While her mouth worked on the thick head, Millie's hands
stroked and rubbed the rest of his shaft.
   Rebecca was entranced.  She'd dreamed of taking Lance's thing into her
mouth but something had always stopped her before she did it.  Without
thinking, her mouth opened and her tongue wet her lower lip, mimicking
Millie's movements.  A soft moan escaped her lips; a sound filled with
need.
   Millie's head whipped around.  "Ahh, shit," she said without releasing
her two fisted grip on Tyrone's cock.  "We've got to find a better place to
meet."
   Rebecca's flushed complexion and her fixed stare at Tyrone's cock told
Millie what had caused the sound.  "Come on over here, girl.  It's time you
learnt how to handle one of these things."
   Rebecca took her first step hesitantly, as if shuffling through thick
mud.  Without waiting for Rebecca to join her on the floor, Millie stuck
the pointed end of her tongue into the slit of Tyrone's black knob. 
Sitting back to let Rebecca get closer, a thin strand of pre-cum trailed
from the slit to her lips.  Rebecca knelt beside Millie on the floor, still
staring at the monstrous member.  Millie took one of Rebecca's hands and
placed it beside her own.  The pale white and dark tan hands contrasted
against Tyrone's jet black pole.  With her other hand, Millie guided
Rebecca's head toward his knob.
   "Just wet your lips and open wide."
   Millie crawled behind Rebecca, both to keep her from moving away and to
coach her with whispers in the redhead's ear.  Millie's breasts flattened
against Rebecca's back; her aroused sex snugly rubbing against Rebecca's
firm ass.  Still holding on to Tyrone, Millie's free hand encircled Rebecca
and gently cupped the girl's breast.
   Rebecca didn't shy away from Millie's touch.  In fact it helped push her
closer to the brink; to the point where her mother's voice was vanished in
the rush of her desire.  Lust welled up inside the 18-year-old's body and
washed away her restraint like a sand castle in a rising tide.  She touched
the bottom of the black, mushroom shaped prong and rolled her tongue in the
vee-shaped crease.  Rebecca tasted the clear, salty fluid that seeped from
the slit and then licked around Tyrone's cock head like a big, black ice
cream cone.
   "Dass it.  Put the head in yo' mouth and give it a soft suck.  He likes
dat," Millie coached.
   Rebecca's cheeks hollowed; her eyes closed in concentration as she tried
to absorb all of the strange new feelings.  Millie, sure that Rebecca
wasn't about to try and leave, let go of Tyrone's pole.  While one hand
moved inside Rebecca's blouse and teased the girl's nipples, the other
stroked the white girl's flanks and thighs.  As Rebecca moved to licking
and stroking Tyrone's shaft without being encouraged to do so, Millie's
caresses became bolder.
   Still massaging Rebecca's cantaloupe size tits, Millie used her other
hand to unzip the girl's skirt.  Her hands followed the soft silk underwear
to the junction between the redhead's thighs.  Feeling the dampness under
her fingertips, Millie pulled on the ribbon and opened Rebecca's
underpants. Millie pressed ahead, slowly advancing her hand through the
soft curls that lay at the top of Rebecca's wet slit.
   As if responding to Millie's advances, Rebecca tried to take the entire
head of Tyrone's cock in her mouth.  Her hands moved along the thick fleshy
rod and her tongue danced around the sensitive head.  Pushing her head
forward, she tried to take more of him into her mouth but the size made her
gag slightly.
   "Don't stop breathing.  Use your nose to breathe and swallow likes you
was taking a big drank."
   Rebecca tried again but still couldn't get more than the big round tip
of Tyrone's cock into her mouth.  Millie decided that it was time to try
another idea.  She pulled Rebecca back to sit on her heels, the girl's
hands still wrapped around his shaft.
   "I think that we'll try this again some other time," Millie said. 
"Tyrone needs some relief, too."
   Millie had Rebecca sit to one side and lay down on the tile floor in
front of the delivery man.  Pulling her dress over her hips, Millie cocked
one leg back and held her wet labia open.
   "Girl, you get that skirt off and toss it on to the laundry pile."
   Tyrone silently knelt and placed his cock, still glistening with
Rebecca's spit, against the swollen entrance to Millie's pussy.  Rebecca
stood and stared as Tyrone's ass bobbed back and forth, feeding Millie's
hungry pussy more and more of his meat with each stroke.  She knelt when
she felt Millie's hand tug at her calf, pulling her down to the floor to
sit at the maid's head.
   Millie's eyes had glazed over.  She seemed to be in another place as her
hands traveled up Rebecca's legs to cup the pale, firm ass and bring the
redhead's pussy to her lips.  Rebecca's body quivered like a plucked
string. Millie's bold tongue darted over her sensitive spots, delving into
places that had only felt her fingers before that moment.  Millie devoted
her attention to licking the sensitive rim of the redhead's love tunnel. 
Millie lifted her head briefly, both for air and to allow Rebecca to shift
to a more comfortable position.
   "Tyrone.  Slow down, Shuga'.  I want to git me some more of this sweet
pie."
   Tyrone obligingly slowed his pace, smoothly gliding forwards and
backwards.  Rebecca lay on her side beside Millie, her eyes mere inches
from Tyrone's thrusting cock and his pendulous balls.  She gasped as
Millie's mouth returned to her wet cunny and she reached forward to rub the
erect nubbin that stood proudly between the dark coral folds of Millie's
pussy.  Rebecca leaned forward and kissed the maid's swollen little button,
eliciting a strangled cry from Millie.  She'd heard the boys call it a
cunt, but it was too soft and sweet for such a harsh word.  Her tongue
strayed lower down Millie's wet furrow, tasting her sweet honey.  Reaching
the bottom of Millie's slit, Rebecca's tongue glided over the top of
Tyrone's shaft as it plunged in and out.
   The touch of Rebecca's tongue brought out the first words Tyrone had
said all afternoon.  "Dammit.  I cain't hold off much longer."
   Millie, replacing her tongue with her fingers inside Rebecca's pussy,
looked up.  "Go ahead.  I'm - I'm cummin' too."
   Rebecca placed her hand atop Millie's womb and felt Millie's pussy spasm
around Tyrone's shaft.  She marveled at the feeling.  It was almost as if
she were the one with his gigantic cock inside her.  Tyrone made a few more
strokes and then stiffened, the flood of his seed leaking from Millie to
puddle on the tiles.  Exhausted, Millie's hand had stopped; so Rebecca
reached down to rub her own slit.  The excitement and realization of what
she'd done, of what she'd let Millie do to her, and of what she was willing
to do finally hit her like a tidal wave.  She clamped her legs together,
trapping Millie's hand together with hers.
   When she finally surfaced from the vortex of her orgasm, Rebecca opened
her legs and rolled on to her back.  The force of her climax had surprised
her, as did the large puddle that she was lying in.  Millie, propped up on
one elbow, leaned over her and stroked her cheek.
   "Girl, you worried me." Millie kissed Rebecca gently on the lips.  "You
was floppin' around like a landed fish." She kissed Rebecca again and then
sat up.  "We'll keep this our little secret.  I know that Tyrone won't be
telling anybody," she said, nodding toward the big man as he tucked his
shirt tail back into his pants.
   -=)0(=
   Bud and Thorny crept through the garden's back gate only moments after
Rebecca had entered the basement.  They stealthily climbed the wooden slats
they'd nailed into the tree trunk, pushing the trap door open and slipping
into Bud's old tree house without being seen.  Staying low, the boys crept
across the plank floor to the window.
   "You bring the specs?" Thorny asked.
   From their vantage point, some fifteen feet in the air, the boys had a
direct line of sight into the second floor windows of the houses that lined
the street behind Bud's home.  Bud pulled his father's old binoculars out
of his book bag and focused on one particular window in the yellow frame
house that stood some thirty feet away from them.  Details of the bedroom
he was looking at jumped out at him.  Bud could easily make out the little
pink flowers on the bedspread and the line of china dolls on the book
shelf. A mirror hung on the wall directly opposite the window, reflecting
the closet door and the dresser that stood in corner of the room.
   "Here she comes," Bud whispered.
   Both boys leaned forward as the room's door opened.  Bud bit his lower
lip as the object of his dreams entered her bedroom and casually dropped
her books on her desk.  Kelly Parker's cheerleader skirt flared as she spun
to admire herself in the mirror.  She posed for a few moments, smoothing
her skirt and running her hands over her blouse.
   "Lemme see," Thorny tugged at the strap of the binoculars.
   Even without the glasses, Bud could see Kelly turning back and forth,
holding her hair up as if trying new hair styles.  Thorny started a
commentary, like an announcer at a ball game.
   "She's undoing her buttons.  There you go, she's wearing a pale blue
under thingy."
   "It's called a chemise," Bud offered.
   They had been watching Kelly Parker undress everyday after school for
about two weeks.  She'd come home from cheerleading practice or dance class
and pirouette in front of the mirror before changing out of her clothes. 
Every day she'd take off a little more before closing the curtains and
leaving them to masturbate hidden safely in the tree house.  They'd already
seen a variety of women's underwear and Bud had done some research in his
mother's pattern book for the correct names.
   "There goes the skirt."
   Thorny's commentary continued even though he was only holding the
binoculars with one hand.  The other had found its way to his crotch to try
to reposition his rapidly swelling member.  Bud reached over and reclaimed
the field glasses.  They were in the home stretch and he wanted a good view
before she went for the curtains.
   Bud picked up Thorny's announcing style.  Thorny, his eyes still glued
to Kelly's window, fumbled with his trouser buttons and released his cock.
Even though he'd just cum inside Goldie only a few minutes earlier, he
stroked it without thinking, using his spit to lubricate his palm.  Bud bit
the inside of his cheek.  He knew he'd be pounding his pud soon enough but
he wanted to make sure that he saw every last glimpse of Kelly's perfect
pale body before he had to relieve himself.
   "OK, she's hanging up the blouse and the skirt.  Bending over to pick up
the shoes.  It's a pair of blue silk drawers today."
   Thorny's hand moved faster along his pole.  In her bedroom, Kelly
returned to the mirror and did another pirouette.  Facing her reflection,
she pulled the silken undershirt up so that its hem just barely covered her
nipples.
   "Ohmigod," Bud gasped.
   Bud focused in closer on the rounded mounds that peeked out of the
camisole.  Kelly wasn't as buxom as his mother or sister, but he was dying
to see her firm grapefruit-sized breasts.
   "Yep, I can see 'em, too," Thorny added.
   "I wish I could be there to touch 'em," Bud confessed.
   Kelly let the camisole drop back down to cover her breasts and stomach.
Before Thorny could finish his groan of disappointment, she hooked her
thumbs in her waistband and pushed her bloomers to the floor.  She returned
to the mirror and tied her hair into a ponytail.  When she raised her arms
the camisole rode up to expose the bottom of her firm rear end, a sight so
sought after Thorny's hand froze for a moment.
   Then she did what the boys had only dared dream about.  Kelly bent over
to retrieve her panties.  The twin globes of her ass were in full view, as
was the shadow of her lightly furred labia.  Bud, with the advantage of the
binoculars, could see the hair covering her sex, hair that was only
slightly darker than her blonde tresses.  Standing, she tossed the
underwear at the closet and walked toward the window.
   "Show's over," Bud said, sinking below the window.
   Thorny's hand was a blur as he crouched in a corner.  Bud knelt in
another corner and pulled out his stiff prick.  He was only getting started
when Thorny's grunts let Bud know that he was finished.  Instead of beating
off in front of his friend, Bud carefully folded his rigid member into his
pants.
   "Hey, I gotta go," said Thorny as he retrieved his book bag.
   "Yeah, me too," Bud replied as he carefully returned his father's
binoculars to their case.  "You better see if you can snag a set of these
from your ol' man," he said, "the way Kelly's going, we don't want to be
passing these back and forth."
   "Yeah.  You going to ask her to the graduation dance?"
   "Sure.  Like she'd go to the big dance with a nobody like me.  Worse
yet, a nobody who's her best friend's little brother.  People'd think it
was a mercy date or something."
   "Well, you know what they say," Thorny pulled the trap door back,
"nothing ventured, nothing gained," he said as he descended the ladder.
   Bud left the tree house bounded into the backdoor, heading straight for
the icebox for a soda.
   "Bud!  Bud, is that you?  Cum'on down here and give me a hand," Millie
shouted from the laundry room.
   Bud, soda bottle in hand, sauntered down the narrow steps.  The air
reeked with a sweet, pungent, stench.  He coughed and cleared his throat
with a quick swallow of soda.
   "Need a hand?"
   Millie held up the stained sheets that she'd taken from his bed that
morning.  "So who's got you all hot and nasty?  Some skinny little white
gal got you all hot and bothered?"
   Bud tried denying it but Millie persisted.  "Don't lie to me, Bud
Lostridge.  I know what a man's cum smells like."
   She tossed the sheet on to a pile of laundry and, without warning,
reached up and cupped his crotch.  She stood so close to him that her full
breasts rubbed against his chest.
   Feeling his steel hard cock, Millie murmured to herself, "When it rains
it pours." Looking up into his flushed face, she pulled at his belt.  "I
know what you need, Bud.  I know how to relieve your condition."
   Millie pulled his belt open and pushed his trousers down around his
knees.  His cock, still hard from Kelly's show, leaped out of his fly and
lightly slapped her cheek.  Instead of immediately attacking his bulging
crotch, she stepped back.
   Posing in the dim light of the basement window, she undid the four large
buttons that ran down the center of her maid's uniform.  Standing in the
dim light, Millie peeled her uniform off and threw it over the clothesline
that ran the length of the basement.  Her underwear quickly followed and
she returned to the steps wearing nothing but a broad smile and a hungry
look.
   Although he felt vulnerable, standing at the bottom of the basement
steps with his pants around his ankles and his stiff cock in his hand, Bud
stopped to admire Millie's voluptuous body.  Where Goldie was pale and
bony, Millie was cinnamon colored and voluptuous.  Even the brief teasing
glimpses of Kelly's young form didn't compare to Millie's lush body.  When
Millie cupped her heavy breasts and offered them to him, Bud stumbled
forward, keeping himself from falling by a death grip on the handrail.  He
paused to kick of his shoes and free himself from the tangle around his
ankles.
   "You're beautiful," he said.
   He drew her toward him.  She smelled like a mixture of sweat and lye
soap but he kissed her hungrily.  His hands roamed over her body, feeling
her full breasts, rounded hips, and smooth back.  Her hands were busy as
well, slowly stroking his cock and murmuring how good he was going to feel
inside her.
   Bud lowered his head and took one of her swollen nipples into his mouth.
One hand ventured tentatively toward the wiry hair that covered the
juncture of her thighs.  She let go of his ass to guide his hand through
the damp furrow between her legs.  They stood in the dank room, their
bodies pressed against each other, hands exploring each other like new
lovers although they'd known each other most of their lives.
   "I've got to have you," he whispered.
   Without letting go of his cock, she shuffled backward toward the laundry
pile until the basket knocked against her calves.  Then she lay back on the
dirty sheets.  Her breasts barely flattened as she reclined and spread her
legs.
   Bud knelt and used his stiff rod to draw small circles around and
through her inner labia.  He relished the slick feeling of her sex before
sliding his cock into the velvety grip of her pussy.  He groaned softly and
pulled out slightly before pushing forward again, thrusting deeper each
time.
   She craned her neck to watch him insert his thick tool inside her. 
Despite the fact that she'd had Tyrone's truncheon like member inside her
twice that day, the fact that she'd been Bud's playmate and nursery maid
made this special.  The fact that he was well hung was just an added bonus.
She hooked her legs around his back and drew him inside her until his hips
met hers.
   The feeling of her thick wiry thatch against his belly seemed to break
the spell that had come over him.  His hands pinned her forearms down and
he gave each of her breasts a long, wet kiss.  Bud smiled into Millie's
dark brown eyes as his hips moved back and forth in a deep, steady pace. 
Millie lay back on the laundry and encouraged him with a stage whispered
stream of obscenities about the size and feeling of his manhood.
   "Oh yess, Baby.  Yess.  Come fuck ol' Millie.  Jam that piece of meat in
my hot little puss."
   Bud looked down to where his body joined hers.  His thick shaft
glistened with her juices.  Raising his eyes, he saw her breasts jiggle and
shift as his hips slapped against hers.  Finally he looked into her eyes,
her face a mask of sweaty pleasure.  He grunted between clenched teeth as
he drove his fleshy spike into her willing body.
   Suddenly his body stiffened, his body slammed against hers, and he let
out a strangled cry.  She felt his cock twitch and flood her silken tunnel
with cum.  Millie held his head between her hands so that she could watch
his face, sharing the moment with him.
   He supported himself over her, gasping for breath, until she drew him
down to lie on her chest and kissed him deeply.  They lay on top of the
laundry pile, holding each other in the dank basement, until they heard the
clock strike five.  With one last kiss, Millie rolled Bud's body off hers.
   "Git yourself tucked in and cleaned up.  I gotta git supper on the table
before your momma comes looking for me."
   Chapter 4 The family had their dinner in silence.  RJ soon tired of
trying to provoke a meal time discussion of the day's events and retired to
listen to the radio in the parlor.  Hiding behind the newspaper, he planned
his next chance to indulge himself with Elsa's charms.  RJ rested the paper
on his lap, concealing the large bulge that had grown as he imagined the
slight redhead on her back, lying naked on his desk and begging for him to
fuck her.
   The family had resumed its normal routine, but only on the surface.  As
soon as they had been excused from the table, Bud and Rebecca had
disappeared upstairs to do their homework.  Safely out of sight in the
bathroom, Bud washed away the sticky traces of Millie's juices.  He paused
to hold his cock in his hand and wonder if it was really as big and thick
as she'd said.
   Across the hall in her room, Rebecca lay on her stomach, her hand
burrowed between her pussy lips as she replayed her session in the laundry
room.  Her hand made wet, squishing sounds as her fingers plunged in and
out of her pussy.  She bit down on one of her rag dolls to keep from crying
out as she came, the vision of Tyrone's cock drilling Millie's tasty quim
filling her mind.
   In the kitchen, Harriet scraped the dishes for Millie to wash the next
morning.  For her part, she stood at the sink and tried to be patient;
vainly trying to fend off the lustful feelings that threatened to overwhelm
her.  The scene she'd witnessed between Millie and the deliveryman was
etched in her mind: The way Millie's breasts had bounced as his mammoth
cock plowed into her, the wet slapping sounds as their bodies met at the
end of each stroke.
   Harriet tried to compose herself.  She was over-reacting, she told
herself.  She was, after all, a mother, a member of the PTA and the Church
Women's Auxiliary.  She'd been married for 18 years and had never once felt
the temptation that burned inside her now.  She chewed her bottom lip,
desperately searching for a way to take the edge off her needs before
anyone found out.
   In the back of her mind, she kept remembering that tonight was "the
night." In the past, it had become a chore that Harriet had come to dread,
but this week she needed her husband's cock inside her.  She looked at the
kitchen clock and wondered if she had time to use the thick handle of her
hair brush, a handy tool that had met her needs quite a few times over the
last months.  She also knew that the extra lubrication would help RJ finish
quickly.
   Before she could slip upstairs, however, she heard a sound behind her.
RJ had come into the kitchen for a drink.  He put his hand on her hip and
leaned to give her a quick peck on the neck.  His idea of foreplay, Harriet
thought bitterly.  But, in her state, even his casual touch made her weak
in the knees.
   Harriet stumbled back as one ankle wobbled and landed in RJ's arms.  Her
breath caught in her throat as she felt his unmistakable bulge against her
backside.  She reached behind her and pressed her hand against the outline
of his manhood.  His hands had caught her around the waist, but now they
reached up to cradle her heavy breasts.
   "RJ, what about the children?" she asked.
   He buried his face under the pile of auburn curls at the back of her
neck.  His hands fondled her breasts.  Her nipples poked through her dress,
scraping against his palms.  Her squirms only succeeded in increasing the
friction between his rapidly swelling manhood and her ripe, round bottom.
   "I was hoping to do something a little different tonight." She turned
and knelt in front of him.  "Something that I haven't done in years," she
said, unbuttoning his fly.
   Harriet took RJ's manhood out of his union suit and held it flat against
his belly with the palm of her hand.  Leaning forward, she licked and
sucked his testicles while her hand massaged the sensitive seam of his
cock. Humming to herself, she worked her way from his balls to the base of
his cock.  There, she nibbled his penis with small, gentle bites.  RJ
braced himself against the sink, arching his back to make sure that Harriet
had unimpeded access to his dick.
   She painted the length of his cock with the flat of her tongue.  When
she reached the vee-shaped flare of his corona, she flicked the tip of her
tongue from side to side, enjoying how the plum colored tip swelled from
her attention.  After a quick, wet lick around the head, she sank her mouth
over his fleshy spike.  One hand held his shaft at the right angle while
the other caressed his balls.  At times she'd tickle the sensitive spot at
the root of his cock, other times her finger would reach farther between
his legs and tease his asshole.
   The stimulation from her mouth and hands pushed the bounds of RJ's
senses.  She'd been like this when they'd first married; two love birds
that got out of bed on a weekend only to get food or bring back a drink. 
They'd made love in any number of exciting places but she'd never given him
a hummer in their kitchen.
   Harriet's finger returned to his wrinkled back passage.  She massaged it
with small circles, pushing the fingertip in slightly more each time.  Just
when he thought he couldn't feel any better, his cock exploded, spraying
the back of her throat with his thick, hot jism.  He looked down and saw
his wife milking his cock, her tongue outstretched to catch each pearly
drop.
   With a sultry look on her face, she stood and kissed him.  He tasted his
salty seed as her tongue dueled with his.  His cock sprang back to life,
twitching as it lay sandwiched between their bodies.  She broke their
embrace and, leaving him struggling to push his semi-rigid pole back into
his pants, led him up the stairs to their bedroom.
   Later that night, as RJ lay in the warm darkness of his bed, he couldn't
believe that his sedate wife had broken their routine so drastically. 
After the remarkable blowjob in the kitchen, she'd continued her
extraordinary behavior in the bedroom.  First, she stripped off her clothes
with the lights still on.  His eyes had feasted on the sight of those
massive globes perched on top of her chest and the thick red curls at the
base of her belly.  His cock got harder than it had been in years when the
soft kerosene light glistened off of her damp pussy lips.
   Then she climbed onto the bed, propped herself against the headboard,
and spread her knees.  In language that he'd have expected from Goldie, she
told him exactly what she wanted him to do next.  Hearing his prim and
proper wife talk about "fucking her cunt" and "swamping her with his cum"
made him as randy as a goat.  They'd spent the next hour coupling like
weasels in heat, rolling and wrestling around on the sheets while their
hips continue to work on their own.  His body had dripped with sweat by the
time her sex had stopped pulsing and gripping his still stiff cock.  He'd
even managed to cum again, a noteworthy event for a man nearing his 40th
birthday.
   Chapter 5 The next morning's cool sunlight shone on the white clapboard
house but instead of everyone in the Lostridge family diving into the day
through their own self-absorbed routine, there was studied quiet in the
house on Bedlow Street.  Rebecca ate quietly and walked to school.  Bud was
up early but dawdled over his cereal, paddling his corn flakes around the
bowl of milk.  And when RJ pried himself out of bed and crept into the
bathroom, he had had to gently unwrap Harriet's arms from his chest.
   Harriet lay in the dappled sunshine, listening to her house grow quiet
before she pushed the coverlet back and walked to the shower without
bothering with a robe.  Climbing into the shower, she turned the knobs but
no water came from the tap.  The pipes banged and shuddered but she heard
only a rush of air.  Screwing the knobs closed, Harriet wrapped herself in
a towel and retreated to the bedroom.
   Throwing on a housecoat, she yelled down the stairs, "Millie.  Millie is
there any water in the kitchen?"
   "Yes, Ma'am.  Mistah RJ told me he couldn't git any in the sink and I
didn't know you was still at home so I's already called the plumber.  He
said he'd be right over."
   Still in her housecoat, Harriet showed the plumber to the upstairs
bathroom.  She leaned against the linen closet and admired the way his worn
denim shirt stretched across a muscular chest.  When he turned around, she
could see how his bottom filled out the seat of his dungarees.  She
especially appreciated the wiry muscles of his back when his shirt rode up.
The thought of the rest of his body made her clench her thighs and resist
the urge to slip a hand into her tingling snatch.
   The plumber unpacked his tools and crawled under the vanity to look at
the piping.  As he lay on his back under the sink, Harriet found herself
staring at the lump in his trousers.  His cock, she told herself.  It was a
word that she hadn't used, hadn't thought about using, in years but after
what she'd seen in the kitchen she'd used it last night.  Hell, after what
she'd done in her bedroom last night, she was ready to call a spade a
spade.
   He hadn't discovered the problem under the sink, so he moved on to the
shower itself.  He turned to tell her something but paused when he saw the
strange look on her face.
   "Uhh.  If I can't get at the problem from here, I might have to take
down some of the wall to get at the pipes."
   "You can take down any walls you want," she said, trying to make a joke.
Seeing his puzzled expression, she quickly added, "Whatever it takes to get
some hot water."
   Hefting his wrench, the young man stepped into the shower stall and set
his tool to the base of the shower knobs.  It seemed to be stuck and
Harriet enjoyed the sight of his muscles bulging as he tried to twist the
stubborn nut.  All of a sudden the nut gave way, carrying a couple of
inches of pipe along with it.
   Water sprayed everywhere; soaking them both in the seconds it took him
to turn the main valve under the sink.  Harriet plucked at her clothes,
suddenly aware that she was naked under her thin house dress.  The thin
cotton outfit molded to her body, displaying her curves to the strapping
young man.
   "At least we know where the problem was," she laughed.
   Stepping sideways, she closed the door behind her.  She wet her lips and
crossed the small space that separated them.  Water dripped off of her chin
and made his shirt stick to his well-developed chest.  He tried to back
away but found himself trapped against the vanity.
   "I - I'm really sorry Mrs.  Lostridge," he stammered.
   Harriet silenced him with a finger placed gently on his lips.  Her other
hand undid the buttons on her robe.
   "We've just got to get out of these wet clothes."
   He thought briefly about protesting but the sight of her large breasts,
capped with round coral-tinted areolas, stifled any sound he might have
made.  Her wet clothing hit the floor with a wet slap.  She leaned against
the vanity and cocked her hip toward him.  His eyes roamed over her
voluptuous form from her breasts across her softly rounded belly to the
strawberry curls that covered her quim.
   "Now it's your turn," she purred, idly flicking one of her nipples back
and forth.  "And then once you've toweled off, you can show me your idea of
an apology."
   He kicked off his boots and peeled off his clothing.  Harriet, holding a
hand towel, dabbed at his muscles until she arrived at his crotch.  His
cock was long and lean, just like the rest of his body.  There, she used
both hands to make sure that he was warm and dry.
   When he reached for her, she held him off and perched herself on the
edge of the vanity.  His cock bobbed in front of him in midair, pointing
straight at the furry place between her legs.  She guided him into her
pussy and clasped her legs around his waist.  He took one of her erect
nipples into his greedy mouth and sucked hard as he probed her wet depths
with his stiff prong.  Harriet's head fell back and she let the stranger
pummel her willing twat.
   By the time he finally left, almost an hour later, the young plumber had
fucked Harriet to orgasm, replaced the broken pipe, and had the pleasure of
watching her take a shower.  From the front porch, she watched him load his
truck and drive away, only slightly concerned about what he might tell his
friends.  Once his truck had turned off the street, she slumped against the
front door, her face buried in her hands, and wondered what had become of
her.
   -=)0(=
   While Harriet worked with the plumber, RJ cornered Elsa in his office.
Still enflamed by Harriet's change of pace, RJ pressed his swollen groin to
her firm ass.  He wasn't interested in seduction.  Harriet's sudden
enthusiasm gave him a taste for something spontaneous and risky.
   His hand groped for the hem of her dress, dragging his fingers roughly
across her silk stocking on their way up her thigh.  Snapping one of her
garters open, his fingers probed her panties and felt her moistness.  She
moaned and spread her legs, arching her back to offer him her ass.  He
pushed the elastic aside and fingered her wet quim.
   "Elsa, you surprise me," he said, flipping her dress up over her waist.
"I never dreamed you'd be, well, so responsive to this method."
   RJ removed his hands from her underpants and unsnapped her garters. 
Elsa bent across his desk, offering her white ass to him.  He gathered the
fabric of her panties in his hands and slowly pulled them down to expose
her fleshy sex.  At the touch of his hands, she quivered like a baby
rabbit. RJ felt a surge of raw power.  He freed himself while he stroked
her pussy, playing his fingers through the sparse, dark red hair that lay
there.
   Aiming his manhood with one hand, he placed the fat knob of his cock
inside the gate of her sex.  He groaned as he felt her tunnel grip his
pick. He pressed forward patiently, gaining a little more depth with each
thrust.  Elsa gripped the far edge of the desk with white knuckles, biting
her lip to keep from crying out and alerting the office to what was going
on.
   RJ took his time sinking his shaft into his willing, submissive protégé.
He savored the feel of her tightness.  The sensation that he was slowly
splitting her open with his cock made him feel like a teenager again.  The
incredible friction soon consumed his senses and he picked up the tempo of
his thrusts until he was rutting against her backside like a wild animal.
   The only sound she made was a long, drawn out sigh, "Yesss," as he
pumped his cum into her.  Once he'd caught his breath, he sat in his desk
chair and watched her refasten her stockings.
   "How many times did you cum?" he asked in a conversational tone.
   "Twice," she admitted.  She fidgeted with her dress before looking up.
"I've never done this before," she added.
   "If you haven't, you've always wanted to." RJ straightened his desk as
if he were ending a routine meeting.  "Now it's time for lunch.  Shall we
have another counseling session tomorrow?"
   "Yes, Mr.  Lostridge," she said as she closed the door behind her.
   RJ's smile split his face and he congratulated himself on conquering the
tightest piece of ass he'd probably ever had.  The trouble was - even
sitting behind the desk she'd just sprawled across, her scent still
lingering in the air - he compared her to Harriet.
   Chapter 6 After school, Bud and Thorny raced to Bedlow Street.  Crouched
behind the tree house wall, they were ready to see how far Kelly would
undress.  Thorny had brought his own binoculars, so Bud wasn't worried
about missing anything.
   "Well, I did it," Bud said without taking his eyes off Kelly's bedroom
window.
   "Did what?"
   "Asked her to the dance," Bud said as nonchalantly as he could.
   "No shit?"
   "No shit.  Gonna borrow my Dad's old tuxedo, take her to dinner, and
everything."
   Whatever comment Thorny started to make was stifled when the boys saw
Kelly enter her room.  Bud felt his stomach do flip flops as she went
through the same slow strip tease that he'd enjoyed for the past two weeks.
   Just like the day before, Kelly calmly removed her clothing.  She hung
up her dress.  Put her shoes in the closet ("White knickers," said Thorny)
and modeled her lithe form in her bedroom mirror.  When she stood in front
of the mirror in her slip, Bud felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead.
He wiped his hands on his pants, careful not to lose his grip on the field
glasses.  This was as far as she'd gone the day before but she didn't seem
to be heading for the curtains yet.
   Bud heard Thorny sigh as Kelly pulled off her panties, bent over, and
gave them another good look at her firm ass.  She tossed her panties onto
her bed and stepped out of sight.
   Thorny squeezed his binoculars until his knuckles were white.  "C'mon,
c'mon," he pleaded under his breath.
   His pleas turned to a disappointed groan when Kelly stepped back in to
her mirror.  Instead of her slip, she wore a pink bathrobe.  She walked
around her room as if looking for something, but then she stopped in front
of her mirror and untied her robe.  Bud thought that his cock would burst
the buttons on his fly as Kelly slowly slid out of the robe.  When the robe
was halfway down her back, she turned as if to look at the smooth curve of
her back.
   Bud had only two words when he saw her pink tipped globes proudly
standing on her chest, "Holy Shit."
   Kelly continued to lower the robe, exposing the top of her rear end in
the mirror while simultaneously showing the boys the triangle of honey
brown curls that graced the top of her womanhood.  Finally, she dropped the
robe to the floor and stood fully naked in front of the mirror.  Her hands
cupped her breasts, seeming to weigh them, before she sent one hand to toy
with the thatch that covered her mons.  The boys held their breath, afraid
that their slightest movement would break the spell.  Stepping closer to
the window, Kelly tugged the curtain sash, ending the show for the day.
   Bud's hands trembled as he descended the tree house ladder.  Making sure
that Thorny had closed the gate to the alley, Bud went into the house
through the laundry room.  Millie was there folding clothes.
   "So de show's over for today?" she teased.
   Bud blushed.  He had forgotten that he had told her about Kelly's
window.
   "Yeah, but now that I've asked her to the dance I feel like I'm going to
be sick or something."
   He put the binoculars case on the stairs and went to help her fold the
laundry.  Millie held her arms wide, searching for the corners of the
sheets.  Bud slipped his hands around her waist and pulled her against him,
grinding his stiff pole into her soft rear end.
   "I wish she could be as easy to talk to as you are." Bud kissed her
neck. Millie smelled of furniture polish and linseed oil.
   She swatted his hands away from her breasts.  "Git on now.  I got work
to do," she said, "And don't think you're gittin' any of my brown shuga
today after you come in here all hard and hot talking after some other
woman."
   "Ah come on, Millie."
   Millie turned around in his arms, a cynical look on her face.  "So now
you got a date with your dream girl.  What do you want a little colored gal
like Millie fo'?"
   "It's just that ...  that I want everything to be right.  I don't want
to screw things up now that I've got a chance to impress her."
   Millie's cocked eyebrow was her only answer but she still didn't try to
leave his embrace.
   "Millie.  What do women want?"
   Millie laughed and playfully punched Bud's chest.  "I could spend the
rest of my life telling you the answer to that one," she said, "but I've
got to fold the laundry, peel the vegetables, and get the chicken in the
oven before your momma gets back."
   "Please?  I'll fold the rest of the laundry for you."
   Millie laughed again.  Looking thoughtful, she answered his question. 
"Women want different things.  Sometimes it's good to go fast and hard. 
Other times they want to go slow and gentle.  Depends on their mood."
   "But how will I know?"
   She took one of his hands from her hip and placed it against her pillowy
breast.  "You just start slow and she'll let you know how fast to go."
   Taking her invitation, Bud's hand moved from her breast to the buttons
on her dress.  "What's the one thing I can do for her?  Something special.
Something she'll like."
   Millie shrugged her shoulders, dropping her dress to the floor.  Bud's
hands caressed her back's smooth skin.  She tilted her chin up and he gave
her a toe-curling kiss.  When she finally broke the kiss, she looked at him
with a quirky grin.
   "Well there is one thing that most ladies like." She pulled him down
between her legs and lay back on the laundry pile.  "I know I do."
   Reclining on the never ending pile of sheets and napkins, she talked him
through the hidden secrets of licking a woman's pussy.  Thorny had told him
that it would smell like fish, but it didn't.  It was a curious, oily honey
- not quite sweet or sour but certainly not offensive.  His tongue explored
the folds and ridges of her sex, making sure to tickle the rim of her
pussy's hole.  He lapped up her juice and spread it around the crevices and
nooks of her sex.
   "Ohh, das it," Millie moaned.  "You keeeep it up; stay nice and slow."
   His mouth moved to the top of her slit and nibbled on her erect
clitoris. She flinched and pushed him back to the slick gate of her sex.
   "Don't go sucking too hard on my little button, now.  Too sensitive. 
You suck too hard and it'll hurt.  Spoil everything," she moaned.
   He licked her until his jaw ached and then finished with a good hard,
fast fuck.  Just like the day before, the hall clock's chimes kept them
from enjoying any cuddling afterwards.
   "You said you'd fold the laundry," she said as she struggled with her
buttons and ran up the stairs to the kitchen.
   "I won't forget," he said, tucking his shirt tail back into his pants.
"You can bet I won't forget."
   -=)0(=
   Bud had just entered the basement when Lance parked his car in front of
the Lostridge's house.  Rebecca leapt out of the car before Lance had even
set the brake and stood on the curb, the door closed in front of her like a
shield.
   "Thanks for the ride, Lance," Rebecca said quickly before turning to go
into the house.
   "Rebecca, wait." Lance jumped out of his car and followed her up the
drive.  "I need to talk with you."
   She stopped in front of the gate to the back yard.  "What about?"
   "You've been acting funny all day.  I just want to make sure that
nothing's happened to keep us from going to the dance tomorrow night."
   Rebecca stopped; her hand on the latch.  She considered her choices.  If
she refused him now, she'd be the object of rumors and gossip throughout
graduation week.  And she wouldn't have a date to the dance, the social
event of her high school years.
   "No.  I mean yes.  I'm still going to the dance with you.  Unless you've
changed your mind, I mean."
   He reached her and took her by the hand.  "I just needed to make sure,"
he said with his best charming smile.  "Care to take a turn around the
garden, my Princess?"
   "Why of course," she said.
   Her smile matched his but her stomach did somersaults as she led him
through the gate.  They walked arm in arm around the back yard, pausing to
admire the flowers and chat about meaningless things that had happened at
school.  Rebecca started to relax and believe that Lance really did care
for her as a person, not just a piece of meat to be possessed.  They
reached the back fence and turned.  Lance pointed at the shed next to the
tree.
   "Was that your tree house," he flashed his dazzling smile once again,
"or did you play dolls in the little shack?"
   "Dad uses the garden shed as a place to relax." She was a bit peeved
that he would mock her so quickly after they'd just made up.  "The tree
house was my brother's."
   Lance ignored her tone and steered her toward the garden shed.  Rebecca,
unsure of where the conversation was leading, continued.  "Daddy likes to
come out here, listen to the radio, and read his magazines in peace."
   Lance pointed at the empty quart jars that were neatly placed in a box
behind the radio.  "He must really relax out here," he sneered.
   Before she could answer, he turned and swept her into his arms.  He
grabbed her rear end and squeezed it as if he was testing a pillow.  She
tried to protest but he covered her mouth with his, smothering her cries
with a harsh embrace.
   She wrenched her mouth away.  "Stop.  You're hurting me."
   "Princess, you can't make me believe that," his muscular arms held her
still, "women like a firm hand." He pushed her hand against prick, rotating
his hips lewdly.  "Baby, I can hardly wait to hear you beg for me to fuck
you." She tried to pull her hand away but he easily overpowered her. 
"You're going to beg me to let you have my cock."
   "I'm not that kind of girl," she screamed as she wrenched herself away
and ran for the back gate.
   His mocking voice followed her, "Yes, you are.  You just haven't
admitted it yet."
   Rebecca ran through the alley, her vision blurred by tears.  Behind her,
Lance leaned against the old door frame, a cocky sneer spoiling his
Valentino looks.  Turning to walk to his car, he glanced up and saw Harriet
in an upstairs window.  The way the light hit her she looked remarkably
like Rebecca.
   -=)0(=
   Rebecca's instincts led her to McPherson's Store, to her friends that
would be at the lunch counter.  She stumbled through the store, ignoring
the stares of the shoppers.  Alone, she collapsed on to a stool.  The
booths were empty.  All of her friends had already left.  Stevie came out
from behind the counter and offered her a napkin to dry her tears.
   "Are you OK?"
   She sobbed and shook her head.  Her world was collapsing.
   Stevie took her arm.  "Look, why don't you come into the back and
compose yourself?"
   He led her up the narrow stairs to the loft of the old storeroom that
adjoined the store.
   "Looks like an old warehouse," she said, breaking her silence.
   "It was.  Mr.  McPherson lets me use it."
   Rebecca looked at the pictures that hung on the wall.  They covered
every conceivable aspect of life in their sleepy little fishing town -
still-life images of people walking in the park, the morning mist rising
from the streets, and the sun setting over the fishing boats.  Looking at
the crisp black and white images, she forgot herself for a short moment.
   Turning back toward Stevie, she pointed at a picture of a house, a white
clapboard house much like hers.  "Are these yours?"
   "Yeah," he said, kneading his cap in his hands like a dish rag.  "Look,
I've got to finish closing.  I'm flattered that you like my work."
   He led her back down the stairs to the store, cautiously telling her
about his ambition of becoming a fashion photographer.  Seeing that she was
feeling better, Stevie walked her to the door.
   "I hope you're feeling better," he dared to meet her green eyes and saw
that she was smiling at him.  She started to walk back towards Bedlow
Street.  "You can come up to the studio anytime you want," he called from
the door.
   Chapter 7 The next day's routine was completely ruined.  It was the day
of the Graduation Week Dance and the house hummed with tension.  Both
children were bundles of raw nerves, erupting like little volcanoes
whenever they came too close to each other.  Harriet ran herself ragged
pinning and brushing them so that they looked their best.  RJ came home in
time to see them before they left to meet their dates for dinner.
   Harriet stood on the porch and watched Rebecca drive off with Lance. 
"Doesn't this remind you of our first big date?" she asked RJ.
   She took RJ's hand in hers and they walked back into the house.  Closing
the door behind them, she pressed herself against his body.  Circling his
neck with her arms, her breasts cushioned the crush of their bodies as she
kissed her husband.
   "I remember that night," she teased.
   "Harriet, have you been drinking?"
   "I surrendered my virtue to you in that dirty old bandstand down at the
park." She backed him up against his easy chair, her fingers undoing his
shirt buttons as he fell into the seat.  "It was so good.  So right.  You
were so deep inside me.  I remember holding you and crying."
   "Harriet, the light's still on.  People in the street - "
   "Are going to see me fuck you." She had his trousers open and held his
cock in her hand.  "It's standing up so nice," she said as she stroked his
shaft, "I don't know whether to suck it or just stick it in my pussy."
   "Harriet - I mean, you never used to talk like this."
   RJ hated to admit it but he was more turned on than he had been in
years. His wife, the mother of his children and the woman who had shared
his bed for 19 years, was talking like a street whore.  He wanted to take
her and fuck the living daylights out of her, to drive his cock into her
wet cunt and claim her as his woman.  But another part still clung to the
idea that she was perfect, above having any base needs like sex.  His inner
debate paralyzed him while Harriet guided his tool into her sopping wet
pussy.
   She pulled his face into the valley between her melon sized breasts. 
His tongue painted circles around her silver dollar sized areola.
   "You used to love to lick and suck my titties," she said.  She ground
her hips against his, "Yess, it feels so good."
   She grated around his stiff pole, rubbing her clit against his pubic
bone.  RJ, in a moment of clear thought, reached for the light and plunged
them into darkness.  Only the cries of her pleasure remained, hanging in
the air as she rode her husband until they both collapsed.
   -=)0(=
   So nervous he thought he'd be sick on the way around the block to her
house, Bud arrived to collect Kelly for the dance.  Both teens were
embarrassed when Mrs.  Parker fussed and took pictures of them.  They
joined a host of other kids at Papa Ficorilli's restaurant, laughing and
enjoying being together.  After dinner, Bud took Kelly's hand as they
walked to the high school.
   The dance was great and everyone danced up a storm.  The band finished
their first set with a slow number when Kelly lifted her face to his. 
Bud's lips met hers and he felt as though he was being electrified. 
Avoiding the dance's chaperones, Kelly led him from the dance floor to the
teacher's lounge.  Bud looked around the room.  It was lit only by the glow
of the street lights below and smelled of cheap tobacco and bleach.  They
embraced and sank to the couch, lips locked in a feverish kiss.
   Placing her small hand on his chest, Kelly gently pushed him back.  For
a second, Bud thought that he'd done something wrong, had gone too fast and
spoiled the moment.  She climbed off the couch and stood in front of him,
but the smile on her face let Bud know that they weren't through.
   "Do you like my dress?" she said as she pirouetted.  "My mother made it
especially for this dance."
   Kelly undid the clasp behind her neck and lowered the dress, finally
stepping out of its folds and hanging it carefully over the back of a
chair. She bent over and slipped out of her shoes, making sure that her
bottom was right were Bud could see and touch it.
   "Do you like the way I undress?"
   Realizing what this was leading to, Bud struggled out of his tuxedo
jacket and kicked his shoes under the table.  "How did you know?"
   "I missed dance class with a sore foot one day.  I happened to look out
my window and I saw you climbing into that old tree house of yours.  A few
days later, I saw a flash from the tree house, like light reflecting from a
mirror.  I figured that you were watching me, so I gave you something to
watch."
   She put her slip and bra on top of her dress and helped him remove his
cummerbund.  Her hands lingered over his fly and she murmured over the
outline of his stiff pole.
   "I just wondered how far I'd have to go before you'd finally ask me
out," she said and nipped his earlobe with her sharp, white teeth.
   Realizing that she'd led him on from the start, Bud decided that it was
time to show her that he had a few surprises as well.  He arranged Kelly on
the couch and, following Millie's advice, started by kissing and licking
her neck and breasts, working his way down her body before taking her
panties off.
   "What are you - Ahhhh."
   Bud explored Kelly's small, delicate pussy with his mouth.  His tongue
plowed broad furrows through the length of her slit, pausing at the end of
each pass to tease her clitoris or dip into her honeyed well.  His chin was
covered with her juices by the time she pulled him away from her sex. 
Holding him by his hair, she kissed him hungrily, tasting herself on his
lips.
   "Now," she begged, "I've got to have you now."
   Bud scrambled out of his trousers, taking his underpants off in a single
motion.  Kelly held her breath and touched his cock.  It twitched and
pulsed in her soft, warm hand.
   "Are they all like this?"
   Bud shrugged and helped her lie back on the couch.  Kelly's expression
was caught somewhere between eagerness and anxiety.  He stroked her
breasts, murmuring compliments as he carefully used his cock to spread her
slick oils.  She watched in rapt anticipation as he inserted the head of
his cock into her.
   He paused and let her body grow accustomed to his invading member.  He
pressed forward again, stopping when Kelly groaned.  Her eyes closed and
her fingers dug into his arms like claws.  Her nails bit into his skin as
he pressed deeper and gently spread her virgin sex.  When he reached the
spongy wall that blocked his way to her womb, he stopped.
   "Are you sure," he whispered in her ear.  "It might hurt, I'm told."
   "Yes.  I want you to be my first"
   Before she could change her mind, Bud's hips lunged forward.  Kelly
smothered her cries by biting his neck, her nails raking the length of his
arms.  It felt like she was drawing blood, but he kept up his slow and
steady assault on her newly breached love tunnel.  Gently working his cock
in and out of her vise-like pussy, he stopped when his balls met the smooth
slopes of her ass.  He hung over her, supported by his quivering arms, and
savored the sensation of being completely inside her.
   Her breath quivering, she managed to gasp, "Fuck me.  Keep fucking me,"
before her voice trailed off into murmurs.  "So good.  Sooo goood."
   Bud smoothly withdrew his eight inch prong until only the tip remained
inside, paused for a moment, and then pushed forward again.  His long,
steady strokes mesmerized Kelly and she lay splayed on the couch, open to
anything he did to her body.  They made love for what seemed like hours,
his easy rhythm plunging his cock in and out of her body over and over
again.
   Suddenly, her eyes flew open and her mouth gaped in a silent scream. 
Her body shuddered.  He froze in mid stroke and felt her muscles contract,
a spasm along the entire length of his shaft.  Kelly held his face in her
hands, a sheen of perspiration glistening on her forehead.
   "I want to feel you cum inside me," she said.
   She locked her legs around his waist.  He lowered his hips and, her
heels digging into his back, thrust hard and fast.  Spurred on, he rushed
toward his climax.  His balls tightened and a prickling feeling welled up
from the root of his manhood.  He slammed his cock deep inside Kelly like a
trip hammer, collapsing against her just as his cock erupted.  He felt as
if his body was turning itself inside out, his insides pouring into Kelly
in a rush.
   Bud supported himself above her, careful to keep from crushing her
petite body with his weight.  She stroked his face and looked into his eyes
with a dreamy expression.
   "What a minute." Bud raised his head and listened.  "The music's
stopped. The dance must be over." He raised himself off the couch and
searched for some tissues.  "We've got to get out of her before Rufus comes
to empty out the trash cans."
   The thought of the school's ancient janitor catching them naked in the
teacher's lounge set them both laughing.  Even as they dressed and sneaked
down the fire escape, fits of giggles threatened to give them away.
   -=)0(=
   Lance and Rebecca had danced and socialized until the first band break.
The gym was stifling and they'd talked to everyone they wanted to talk to,
so they stepped outside for a break.  Lance slyly walked Rebecca, avoiding
other people, until they'd arrived at the entrance to the locker room. 
Making sure that no one was there to see them, Lance pulled Rebecca into
the men's locker room.
   Rebecca wrinkled her nose at the smell of stale sweat and liniment.  She
knew that Lance had brought her to a place where they could be alone, alone
to force her to give him what she'd jealously guarded for months.  She
tensed, ready to follow through with her plan.
   "C'mon, Babe," he said squeezing her waist, "We've got some privacy now.
I've waited for this moment for a long time."
   His hands plucked at the hooks at the back of her dress but she squirmed
and pushed him away.  She sank to her knees in front of him, looking up
from his crotch with a sultry pout.
   "I was going to give you a special present," she said, "Something I've
been waiting to give you for weeks."
   Rebecca pulled Lance's prick from his pants and gave it a few quick
strokes.  He wasn't anywhere near as large as Tyrone, his cock only
slightly longer than both her fists put together and easily grasped in her
hands.  Rebecca took a deep breath and steeled herself for what lay ahead.
   She tried to remember how Millie had excited Tyrone with her mouth.  She
took the head of his prick into her mouth and sucked hard on the purplish
tip.  Seeing how he liked what she was doing, she used her teeth to nip and
tease her way around the edges of the corona, nurmuring compliments about
his size and beauty.
   Lance held the back of her head and jammed his cock into her throat. 
Mindless of the gagging sounds she made, Lance fucked her mouth callously.
Tears streamed from her eyes but she knew that this was the price of being
the Queen of Kingsport High.  Lance's voice came to her through a fog of
pain and humiliation.
   "That's it, Babe.  You get it real wet and then I'm going to fuck you
real good."
   He pulled at her dress, trying to strip her while she was still on her
knees.  She tried to push his hand away but he tussled with her and tore
the strap of her dress.  For the first time, she was really scared and she
pushed him away.  Lance, hobbled by his trousers, tripped over the locker
room bench.  He could only shout angry words at her while she ran from the
room and down the hall.
   Rebecca ran from the school; using the back alleys to avoid meeting
people that might ask questions or spread rumors, avoid meeting Lance when
he came to look for her.  Passing behind McPherson's Store, she heard a
clanging noise that startled her.  She slipped on her heels and landed
heavily on the dirty alley.
   "Rebecca, are you all right?"
   Rebecca looked up to see Stevie the soda jerk tossing a bag of garbage
into a row of trash cans.  She couldn't stand to let him see her this way
but she needed his help.  He picked her off the ground and helped her brush
off her dress.
   "Why don't you come inside and wash up?"
   Rebecca dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief and noticed the makeup
that ran with her tears.  She nodded and followed Stevie up the stairs. 
Once in the old loft, she washed her face and fixed her makeup before
finding the courage to look him in the eyes.
   "I need to thank you," she stammered.  "You didn't need to do this."
   "Yes, I did." He looked uneasy, shuffling his feet from side to side. 
"Can I get you something to drink?"
   "Sure.  Anything you've got," she said as she wandered around the large
open area admiring the photographs.
   While Stevie ran down to the store, Rebecca peered inside the closet
Stevie had set up as his dark room.  Inside she found strips of film
hanging up to dry and rows of postcards cut and stacked on a small table.
Picking up one of the cards, her eyes widened at the sight of a naked,
skinny girl spreading her legs and fingering herself.  The small stack of
cards all featured the same girl as she undressed and masturbated, first
with her hands and then with some kitchen implements.  She walked out of
the room with the cards in her hands, looking up to see Stevie gaping at
her in horror.
   She held the cards up and asked, "Are these yours?"
   He nodded yes.  "Mister McPherson pays me extra for them.  I need the
money for Art School."
   She nodded in understanding.  "And the girl?"
   "She's a waitress in town."
   "Would I make a good model?"
   Stevie looked at her critically.  "You're definitely good looking enough
but -"
   "But?" Rebecca's wounded vanity took control of her and she drew her
shoulders back, accentuating her ripe bust.  She held out a picture of the
skinny model cupping her breasts as if offering them to the camera.
   Stevie sensed he'd made a mistake and hurried to explain.  "I'd just
want to see how you react with the camera.  I mean it's - different in
front of a camera."
   Rebecca tucked her torn strap into the bodice of her dress.  A quick
pull on a bow released the other strap and exposed her chest.  Her silk
bustier struggled to support her large creamy breasts, breasts that jiggled
invitingly as Rebecca sashayed across the floor towards the stunned young
man.
   "I think I've got a lot more to work with than this girl."
   Brazenly undressing in front of Stevie, someone who was almost a
stranger, sent Rebecca's pulse racing.  Mimicking the picture, she cupped
her breasts and offered them to him, a hungry, seductive look on her face.
Still holding on to one breast, she cupped his bulging groin with the
other.
   "Maybe I should audition for you?" she knelt, pushing her shoulders
forward to emphasize the deep valley between her tits.  "After all, I do
need to find a special way to say thank you."
   Her nervousness disappeared the moment Rebecca took Stevie's long prick
into her hand.  This wasn't something she had to do.  It was something she
wanted to do and wanted to do very badly.  Her mouth made a dark lipstick
ring around his rod as she sucked and licked his manhood.  When she felt
his balls tighten, she pulled her mouth back and sucked hard on his knob,
rapidly stroking his shaft.
   "Shhi-yit," Stevie cried out.
   His seed shot into her mouth in thick jets.  Rebecca tried to swallow it
all but some escaped, leaving a pearly rope of his jism dripping from her
cheek to the slopes of her perfect breasts.  Carefully, she licked his cock
clean before standing to reassemble her dress.
   "Rebecca."
   "Yes," she said, delicately wiping the remnants of his cum from her
collar bone.
   "Would you mind modeling for me?"
   "Stevie, I'd love that." Rebecca kissed him good night.  It wasn't a
chaste or even teasing peck on the cheek but a full-on, soul-searing,
tonsil licking kiss.  "But I've got to go home and if I don't leave now, I
might have a hard time maintaining my reputation as a good girl," she said
with a smirk.
   "We could try some shots tomorrow if you've got some time."
   She looked coyly over her shoulder from the top of the stairs.  "I'll
meet you up here around ten.  Bye."
   -=0=
   Back on Bedlow Street, Lance Sterling cut his engine and glided his
jalopy to a stop against the curb.  The light was on in the Lostridge's
front parlor and Lance leaned over the steering wheel to see if Rebecca
might be there.  A cunning smile spoiled his film star looks as he saw Mrs.
Lostridge, her bountiful breasts in plain sight, climb on top of her
husband.  She pulled his face into her full bosom, arching her back in
pleasure.  Lance watched Mrs.  Lostridge rock back and forth, her titties
bouncing back and forth, until someone turned out the light.
   Falling back into his seat, Lance tossed his cigarette butt into the
gutter and drove home.  "Shit," he muttered, "everybody's getting laid but
me."
   Chapter 8 School was over and now Bud concentrated all of his free time
on Kelly.  They'd spent the day together and now they walked toward Bedlow
Street hand in hand, chatting about friends and what they wanted to do with
their lives.  Reaching Kelly's house, they stood at the little white picket
fence gate that marked her front walk.  Bud deliberated for a few moments
before quickly leaning forward and kissing her cheek.
   "Bud!  I mean, my parents might see," Kelly's eyes twinkled.
   He smiled and turned toward the alleyway that separated her house from
his.  "I'll see ya' tomorrow.  I gotta get home for dinner."
   Kelly ran up to her room and waited until she could see him walk through
the narrow alley.  She waved and blew him a kiss through the window.  He
laughed, remembering the strip shows she'd done for him after school and
went into his yard.  Kelly sat down at her desk.  She pulled out her diary,
a serious look replacing the smile she'd had on her face.
   Her eyes watered as she counted the days on the calendar over and over,
always coming up with the same number.  "Nooo," she moaned, "please don't
let it be true."
   Kelly knew that she had to find Rebecca.  Her best friend would know
what to do.  Blinking back her tears, she ran to McPherson's Store.  It was
nearly dinner time and the soda counter was almost empty, but Rebecca was
there, sitting and chatting to Stevie.  With only the barest courtesy,
Kelly dragged Rebecca into the bathroom.
   "What's eating you?" Rebecca was puzzled by Kelly's nervous, frazzled
manner.
   "I'm late," Kelly whispered, as if talking to herself.
   "Beg your pardon?" Rebecca's said in a low voice.  Suddenly she realized
what Kelly had meant.  The shell-shocked look on Kelly's face, the
preoccupied fidgeting, it all made sense.  "Did you say that you're late?
But..."
   "Bud's the father.  He's the only one that I've...that...well, you
know."
   "Christ, I asked him to take you to the dance." Rebecca paced the small
restroom.  "I'll kill him."
   "No Becca, it wasn't his fault.  I wanted to...Ah, Jesus, what kind of
mess have I gotten myself into?"
   Rebecca leaned against a sink and lit a cigarette, her hands shaking. 
"So what are your options?" She blew a cloud of smoke toward the ceiling.
"You could marry Bud, but you'd be a widow the second my father found out."
   "I know that I'm not going to any sleazy quack.  I heard Melissa Jones
had an abortion, that's the reason she spent six months in the hospital. 
The guy cut up her insides so bad she almost died." Kelly took the
cigarette from Rebecca's hand.  "And now she can't have children.  Ever."
   "So what's your plan?"
   "If I can get enough money, I'll leave town.  I've got some distant
cousins who live out in Arizona.  I can get a job and have the baby.  I
dunno, maybe I could come back in a few years, once my class graduates and
everyone forgets about me." She passed the cigarette back, having never put
it to her mouth.
   Rebecca set the cigarette down and hugged Kelly tightly.  "I'll see how
much money I've got in savings.  It's not much but it'll help."
   Kelly sobbed and rested her head against Rebecca's shoulder.
   "Have you told Bud?" Rebecca asked quietly.
   "No.  I'm too embarrassed.  Hopefully I can get a job and pull the money
together before I...  my condition gets obvious.  I'll leave town and no
one, not even Bud, has to know."
   Rebecca looked her friend directly in the eye.  "He played a part in
this as well." Rebecca saw that Kelly was on the verge of another crying
jag, so she let the topic drop.  "Let's just work on getting you that job.
We've got three months before school starts again.  I think we can get a
good nest egg together by September."
   Kelly used her handkerchief to wipe away the tears and let Rebecca lead
her from the rest room.  To her surprise, Rebecca steered toward the soda
counter and waved at Stevie to come over to them.
   "Stevie, is Mr.  McPherson hiring any more summer help?"
   "Yeah, I think so.  Why?  I thought you had a job at the library."
   "I do, it's Kelly that needs a job.  She needs to save up some money
before school starts."
   Stevie looked at Kelly critically.  Rebecca recognized his expression as
the same one he'd given her that night in the studio, the night she'd
offered to model for him.  Stevie caught her looking at him and raised an
eyebrow in a silent question.  Rebecca pretended to look at the menu while
the last customers walked into the main part of the store.  She looked over
Stevie's shoulder and made sure that the cook had gone back to the
storeroom.
   Stevie wrung his bar towel in his hands.  "I could use some help in the
studio." He watched the girls to gauge their reaction.  "Another model,
perhaps.  Give me a little variety.  Mr.  McPherson would like that.  And
the money's good, you could make a couple of hundred by Labor Day, no
problem."
   Kelly's eyes lit up like fireworks on the Fourth of July.  "A couple of
hundred.  Shit, I'd do anything for that kind of money.  Oh Stevie, you're
a lifesaver."
   Rebecca looked at Stevie.  She wasn't sure whether to brain him with a
Coke bottle for suggesting that her best friend model for his dirty
pictures or kiss him for risking a jail sentence to help Kelly out.  She
looked at Kelly, who was spinning around on her barstool like a little kid.
   "Maybe we need to go up to the studio and make sure that we are clear
about what we're talking about here," Rebecca said.
   -=)0(=
   While Kelly poured out her heart to Rebecca, Bud was walking into his
house without a care in the world.  His mother was weeding in the garden,
so he went to the kitchen and poked around in the ice box for a Coke.
   "Well look who's strutting in here.  Mistah Rooster, what'll you be
having?"
   Bud laughed at Millie's joke.  He hadn't seen her when he walked in
because she had been shelling beans at the kitchen table.  She stood and
went to the stove to stir something on the stove.
   Bud took another drink and compared Millie's lush, round backside to
Kelly's slender, firm rump.  Millie turned around and caught him staring at
her ass.  She wiggled her butt and stuck her tongue out at him.
   "Now that you've had a little pussy, you looking at all women like dat?"
She wiped her hands on her apron, a motion that made her breasts ripple and
roll under her cotton house dress.  "My little white boy's done grown into
a real hound dog, ain't he?"
   She cupped her breasts and teased her nipple with her thumbs, laughing
at him with her eyes.  "Why you still chasing that skinny little white girl
since you've had a real woman?"
   Bud put the Coke bottle down on the table and took her in his arms. 
"Why can't I have both?" He leered at her.  "A man needs some variety."
   He played with the big white buttons on her dress.  "Why don't we go
downstairs and fold some laundry?"
   "Go on," she said, playfully slapping at his hands without really trying
to drive him away.  "You been mooning after your little white gal so much I
don't think you've got the strength for the likes of me."
   Bud undid all four buttons and wrapped his hands around her bare waist.
He pushed his hands under her panties and cupped the twin globes of her
soft, fleshy ass.  At the same time, he kissed her neck, feeling her pulse
throb under his lips.
   He pulled his right hand away from her bottom to unsnap her bra and free
her big, heavy breasts for his mouth.  His lips descended on her erect
brown nipples and Millie arched her back in appreciation.  Bud pushed her
panties down her thighs as he sank to her knees.
   Bud's face was level with Millie's furry snatch, and, giving her panties
one last push toward the floor, he gave her pussy a big, wet kiss.  Bud
spread her pussy lips with his thumbs licked her silky slit with the broad
edge of his tongue.
   "Millie, I think I love you," Bud said, his voice muffled by her thighs.
   "There's more to love than fuckin' and don't you forget it," Millie
sounded serious for a change.
   "Mmm," he said, pulling his mouth away from her soft inner labia. 
"There's pussy eating, too."
   Millie grabbed him by his ears and forced him to look up at her.  "If
you really want this gal, you'd best think twice before you go mouthing off
like that." She pushed him back on his heels and pulled her panties back
into place.  "Now git on up to your room, I gotta finish dinner.  If all's
you want is pussy, there's a gal down to the diner that'll give you that
fo' two dollars."
   Bud, stunned by her sudden rejection, wiped his chin with his hand,
almost forgetting to take his soda up to his room as he left.
   -=)0(=
   Up in Stevie's studio, Kelly sat speechless.  She flipped through
several of the "blue books" that Stevie had made, her eyes gaped and her
skin flushed a bright red as she saw Goldie doing things that Kelly had
never thought about.
   Kelly held out a picture of Goldie inserting a cucumber into her pussy.
"Would I have to do these kinds of things?"
   "Not it you don't want to," Stevie said as he checked his camera.  He
tossed her a black velvet mask.  " Just put this on and we'll give it a
shot.  I'll stand over here in the shadows.  Just do what you feel like
doing."
   Kelly nodded numbly and walked over to the bedroom set that Goldie had
used.  Turning toward the floor length mirror, she took a deep breath and
found that her thoughts drifted back to the after-school strip teases she'd
done for Bud.
   She piled her hair on top of her head and slowly turned around, admiring
herself in the mirror.  Kelly imagined she was in her room, teasing Bud as
he watched from his tree house.  She was so absorbed in her fantasy, Kelly
didn't hear the soft clicks of Stevie's camera.  She stripped slowly and
unselfconsciously.  Finally, she crawled on to the bed.  Kelly pointed her
ass at the camera.  She looked over her shoulder, a sultry pout on face,
and spread her knees.  She arched her back and opened her pussy lips with
her fingers.  As soon as her hand brushed against her erect clit, she
shuddered and collapsed onto the bed.
   Amazed at how far Kelly had gone in her first photo session, Stevie
looked over at Rebecca.  The tall redhead sprawled on a chair, her skirt
bunched up around her waist.  Her fingers danced through her ginger furred
slit, their tempo increasing.  Choking back a cry, her body stiffened and
her legs clamped together.
   -=)0(=
   RJ stood against a stack of crates in Dennehy's store room.  Goldie had
given him his blowjob and now he waited while Scooter grunted and thrust
against Goldie's skinny flanks.  Scooter's hips jerked back and forth,
rapidly slapping against the girl's pale ass as he neared climax.  When he
finally came, Scooter's hairy butt clenched and his body went rigid.
   Scooter pulled up his trousers and rebuttoned his suspenders.  He smiled
and pulled a cigar from his vest pocket, lighting it while Goldie wiped up
and left.  "You still tapping that young thing you was telling me about?"
   "At least once a day." RJ looked extremely proud of himself.  "She's the
perfect little plaything.  Sucks, fucks, anything I tell her to do."
   "Don't the hotel bills start to add up?"
   "Naw.  We do this shit in my office." RJ lit his own cigar and followed
Scooter out into the diner.  "Hell, yesterday she was under my desk sucking
on my knob and one of the other managers walked in.  I held her still, my
cock still in her mouth, while this Good Samaritan let me know that rumors
about me and Miss Flint were starting to circulate." They walked out on to
the street and stopped.  "We're going to start using her apartment at
lunch, I think.  The boss likes discretion and it wouldn't do to have the
office gossiping about me plugging some redheaded snatch during coffee
breaks, now, would it?"
   Scooter chuckled and turned to walk back to his store.  "Well, now that
you're branching out, don't you forget your ol' buddy Scooter." He laughed
as he flipped RJ a wave over his shoulder.
   -=)0(=
   Harriet enjoyed working in the garden; the simple manual labor helped
her forget about her troubles.  Troubles like her husband.  She'd tried to
rekindle their passion that night in the living room.  That had only lasted
the weekend and then RJ slid right back into the same old rut.  Once a
week, lights off - on your mark, get set, go.
   She slammed the hoe into the ground a little too hard and it stuck. 
Harriet tugged at it for a second before standing up and stretching.  She
was just about to go back to her work when she heard the back gate opening.
   "Excuse me, Mrs.  Lostridge." Harriet turned to see Lance Sterling,
Rebecca's boyfriend, come in from the alley way.  "I was looking for
Rebecca."
   "I'm afraid she's already gone to the library, Lance."
   Harriet's insides trembled.  She ducked her head and tugged at the hoe,
more to hide her face from his than anything else.  She was overwrought,
she told herself but she felt a bit strange from the way Lance was looking
at her, almost as if he were undressing her with his eyes.
   That was exactly what Lance was doing.  He'd opened the gate in time to
see Mrs.  Lostridge bent over, her dress taut across her delicious rear
end. She bent over and tugged at the hoe that was stuck in the ground, a
movement that caused the neckline of her dress to gape open and reveal the
cleft between her full, white mounds.
   Lance stepped across a row of plants.  He stopped right behind her, his
hip touching hers, and leaned across her back to help her free the stubborn
hoe.  He felt her shiver as their bodies touched and he covered her hands
in his as he easily pulled the hoe from the soil.
   Harriet stepped away from him quickly and tried to quell the roiling
feeling between her legs.  "Thank you, Lance," she said, "I've been moving
these plants out of their pots.  I guess it's time to clean up."
   She'd meant it as a hint for him to go, but he bent over and helped her
gather a stack of the small clay pots.  Her green eyes met his blue ones.
Harriet's insides started to boil.  She remembered her stolen hour with the
plumber but tried to tell herself that this was different.  She was
contemplating having sex with her daughter's boyfriend, an indiscretion
that wouldn't go away without repercussions.
   "Where did you want these to go?" Lance was holding stacks of pots in
both hands.
   Harriet noticed that he was still looking at her body like a hungry dog
at a piece of meat.  Her resolve weakened; her needs crashing through the
careful, proper barriers that she'd clung to her entire life.  She suddenly
wanted to know what he looked like without his clothes on, his cock hard
from wanting her.  It was exciting to know that she was still desirable;
this young man wanted her and she could have him.
   She led him to the shed and set the pots in her hands on the floor. 
"I'll put these up on that top shelf later," she turned around to take the
pots from his hands but, in the close confines of the garden shed, it was
unavoidable that their bodies brushed against each other.
   Lance lifted his arms and easily placed the small pots on the shelf that
she'd pointed to.  He lowered his arms and encircled her waist, pulling him
against him and kissing her.  Lance smiled to himself as he felt her
respond, her tongue dancing with his in her mouth.
   Whatever tenuous hold Harriet had on her self-control evaporated.  Her
breasts crushed against his hard, muscular chest and she felt herself mold
against his lean, young body.  His cock twitched and started to swell, it's
sausage-like firmness pressing against her belly.
   She stood in his arms, her mind lost in a rising tide of lust.  His
hands plucked at her skirt and roughly tugged at her buttons.  She helped
him unfasten her dress and pulled her bra strap down, freeing her breast
for his greedy mouth.  Just as with the plumber, she was swept away by her
aching desires.  Spreading her legs to allow his hands access, she let him
grope between her legs.
   Harriet backed up, pulling Lance along with her.  Hiking her skirt up
around her waist, she shucked her panties and perched on the edge of the
workbench.  She dragged her hand through the tangle of auburn curls,
surprised at how wet she was already.  Lance closed in on her in a rush but
Harriet stopped him with a gentle hand against his chest.
   "Take your cock out.  I want to see it," her voice was a husky whisper,
"I'm not going to run away."
   Lance pulled his member out of his pants, unsheathing it proudly.  It
bobbed in time with his pulse, curving upwards to point at the furry
triangle between her legs.  Harriet reached down and petted it lightly.
   "Nice.  Very nice," she said as she guided it inside her.
   Holding on to his broad shoulders, Harriet coached and complimented the
teenager.  She slowly rocked back and forth on the work bench, taking more
and more of his cock inside her with each pass.  When she felt the curly
hair on his balls tickle her ass, she wrapped her legs around his waist,
her heels digging into his muscular ass, and held him still.  She craned
her neck and their lips met.
   "Now fuck me," she said.
   When it was over, Lance had had to help Harriet off the workbench.  Her
body was stiff; her pussy sore from the pummeling the all-star athlete had
given her.  He'd fucked like a young bull: plenty of power and stamina but
lacking any of the gentility or consideration she'd hoped for.  Harriet
stood in the shed's doorway and watched Lance slip out of the back gate.  A
delayed sense of regret teased at the edges of her mind but she refused to
let herself cry.
   -=)0(=
   The usual three o'clock group gathered at the soda counter.  Lance held
court in one booth while the cheerleaders, minus Rebecca who was still at
work, sat in another, giggling and gossiping.
   Lance's pitched his voice in a low, conspiratorial tone.  "I tell you
boys, she's been scarce because she's a little shy.  They're all a little
tender after losing their cherries." The other boys, all of whom had far
less experience with sex than their leader, elbowed each other and tried to
look like they'd all been through the same thing before.  Lance regaled the
boys with his version of what had happened between him and Rebecca,
embellishing his locker room fiction with graphic details borrowed from his
rendezvous with Rebecca's mother only a few hours before.
   Stevie's hands shook with suppressed fury as he sorted the silverware.
He stood where he could hear Lance but where the boys couldn't see his
face. Stevie endured Lance's bragging, afraid to challenge the bigger,
stronger boy because it would mean telling the town that Rebecca had
actually been in his studio instead of with her boyfriend.  When he took
his break, he went up the narrow back stairs to the studio.  As he'd hoped,
Rebecca was there.  She wandered around the props and makeshift sets, deep
in thought.
   "Stevie, are you sure that you want me to model for you?" She stopped
behind the bed Kelly had rolled around on that morning.  "I'm not a skinny
flapper-girl and I'm not a petite cheerleader type either.  I've just got
too much of everything - legs, butt, boobs - you name it."
   "That's what makes you special," he said.  He picked up his camera and
looked at her expectantly.  "We don't have to do anything special.  I want
to try out some ideas.  For me.  Not anything I'd sell to Mr.  McPherson."
   Rebecca smiled.  She was more flattered by his simple statement than a
million compliments from Lance or any of the other boys at school.  She
toyed with the neckline of her dress, a slow grin creeping across her face.
She pulled her hair back into a bun and fished a pair of thick rimmed
glasses from the prop chest.
   Rebecca walked over to a bookshelf and looked at Stevie.  "I'd better
have some sort of disguise," she said.  "Who knows how carried away I might
get."
   Stevie didn't answer, he just quietly snapped picture after picture. 
Rebecca pretended to be a "horny librarian," touching herself as she
removed each piece of clothing.  By the end of the first roll Rebecca was
down to her underwear.  Stevie had thought he was going to blow his wad in
his pants when she turned directly toward the camera, reached behind her
head, and let her hair down.  Her auburn tresses cascaded down her swan
white neck, the curls resting on the slopes of her breasts.
   While Stevie loaded the next roll of film, she teased one nipple until
it raised a dent in her silk brassiere.  When he returned, she slipped out
of her bra.  Cupping one heavy breast, she lifted her full round globe and
licked her own nipple.  For the second time that afternoon, Stevie's cock
threatened to erupt inside his pants.
   Finally, toward the end of Stevie's second roll of film, Rebecca tossed
her panties onto the bookshelf.  Parading around nude, Rebecca turned to
and fro, showing the camera her long legs and luscious curves from every
angle.  Stevie shot the last picture and scrambled back to the darkroom to
load another roll but Rebecca stopped him.
   "That's enough pictures for today, I think."
   Stevie almost dropped his camera.  She smelled of soap, clean and fresh,
with only a hint of the musky scent that signaled her excitement.  She took
his free hand and pressed it against her breast.
   "God, your touch sets me on fire," she sighed.
   She moved his hand from her breast to the furry triangle at the junction
her legs.  She rubbed his hand along the length of her damp slit, moaning
and leaning against him.
   "Make me cum," she pleaded, "make me cum.  I'm sooo close.  Soo close."
She buried her face in his neck, whimpering as she humped his hand. 
Several sharp cries burst from her lips, she shuddered, and then collapsed
into his arms.
   "I needed that." She looked into his face and kissed him.  "But that was
selfish of me."
   She crawled down his body, freeing his cock on the way down to her
knees. She marveled at Stevie's long, broad trouser snake as she held it in
her hands.  Closing her eyes, she tried to remember all that Millie had
shown her that day in the laundry room.  She wrapped her mouth around his
cock, sucking and pulling his cock until he unloaded his heavy measure of
cum into her mouth.
   Rebecca sat back, still holding Stevie's deflating cock.  "We've got to
come up with some way that we can take the next step."
   Still recovering from his orgasm, Stevie could only nod.  "I'll see what
I can do," he croaked.
   -=)0(=
   That night, RJ let himself into Elsa's apartment, announcing his arrival
with a flourish.  Hoisting a bottle of French champagne over his head, RJ
took his protégé into his arms and swung her around in a tight circle.
   "We're going to celebrate, babe." RJ spun her like a top, whipping off
the champagne cork with a pop, spilling some of the wine over his fist.  He
took a long pull straight from the bottle.  "Ahhh." He held the bottle so
that she could try.  "It's the real stuff."
   RJ rattled around the little apartment, rambling on about this and that,
while Elsa prepared herself for what would come next.  They'd been having
sex in his office every day for the last two weeks.  Sometimes she bent
over his desk and let him take her.  He liked to fuck her hard, trying to
make her cry out, but she'd bite her lip and whine like a mewling kitten
until her the sensations in her cunt overwhelmed her other senses and she'd
explode in an orgasmic kaleidoscope.  Other times, he'd make her kneel
behind his desk and take his cock into her mouth, blowing him without using
her hands.
   At first, he had laughed at her attempts to control his long, thick
member without the use of her hands.  "You know, babe, when you're able to
swallow my johnson, you'll be ready to be on the Board of Directors."
   Now, after he'd thrown himself onto her couch, still swilling the fine
champagne straight from the bottle, she felt the familiar signs of
excitement building up inside her.  Elsa had tried to tell herself that she
only did these things with RJ because he was going to help her get a
promotion, but she knew that, after only two weeks, she was ready to try
anything to please him.  This was the first time he'd come to her apartment
and she tingled with anticipation.
   "Take off your clothes," he said.  "Now that we've got a little privacy,
I want to see that hot little body of yours."
   Elsa took off her clothes hesitantly, awkwardly tossing her garments on
the couch beside RJ.  RJ took another swig from the bottle, gesturing that
she should turn around for him.  He swirled the wine around his mouth like
mouthwash as he surveyed her svelte lines.  She was lean and taut, like a
greyhound.  Elsa's breasts and hips barely made curves on her skinny frame.
   Stark naked, Elsa stood in front of the couch, her arms held stiffly at
her sides.  RJ reached forward and poked his fingers through the dark
reddish-brown tangle that covered her quim.  Her pussy lips were as spare
as the rest of her, a small little peach set at the top of her thighs.
   RJ undressed while Elsa got some glasses from the kitchen.  When she
returned he was sprawled naked on the couch, his half-hard cock lying
across his thigh.  He enjoyed watching her move across the room, the twin
dimples at the top of her ass rolling smoothly up and down as she walked.
Her small breasts rippled as she turned to set the glasses on the end
table.
   He poured the wine into some tumblers and indicated that she should sit
next to him.  Ignoring her glass, she leaned over his legs and took his
cock by its base.  She covered his member with her mouth, her cheeks
hollowing with the suction as she worked to get him hard.  RJ took another
pull from his drink and reached across her back, probing her pussy from
behind.
   "Climb on up," he said, helping her position herself across his lap.  "I
want to feel my cock inside your tight pussy."
   She rubbed his thick pole against her slit, toying with him for a
moment. He reached for her with a growl and lifted her hips, threatening to
impale her on his rod.  Still holding his cock, she inserted the round head
into her pussy and flexed her thighs, bobbing up and down slightly as she
accepted his long, thick cock into her body.
   She made noises deep in her throat as she worked her way down his nine
inch staff.  The closer she got to his hips, the more noise she made.  Her
eyes were clenched shut and her mouth gaped.  Her back arched and her hands
tangled themselves in her hair.
   Reaching the bottom of his pole, she pressed her hips against his. 
Instead of immediately moving up and down on his long shaft, she rotated
her hips and ground her pelvis against his.  His hands, cupped around her
ass, pulled and tried to get her to ride his cock, but Elsa continued to
swivel and rotate.
   "Stop teasing and fuck, you little slut," he groaned.
   His hand smacked her firm ass, leaving a red handprint but eliciting
only a short moan from the redhead.  He spanked her again, finally getting
her to move up and down on his cock, impaling herself with short deep
strokes.  His hand held her taut rump.  His fingers could feel the oil
seeping from her tight pussy.  He gathered some of the fluid from his shaft
and spread it around her wrinkled coral rosette.  Elsa's breathing got
heavier as he massaged her back passage with his slick fingers.  He pressed
his fingertips against the tight muscular ring, letting her movement push
his digit inside her virgin ass.
   Elsa babbled, incoherent moans spilling from her mouth, as RJ's finger
tunneled and spread her asshole.  Turning his hand slightly, he pressed his
finger against his cock and felt the thick pole plunging in and out of
Elsa's velvety tunnel through the thin fleshy wall.  The increased friction
affected them both drastically.  RJ felt Elsa's pussy convulse, spastically
clutching the length of his pole.  He cried out and shot his load of jism
deep inside her body, draining his balls in quick molten jets.
   Once they'd recovered enough to move, RJ washed up and dressed.  Elsa
still lay on the couch and he tossed her a hand towel.
   "Lie on that.  You don't want to get cumstains on the cushions."
   She watched him silently as he fixed his tie in the mirror.  "I'll see
you at work," he said, letting himself out.
   Chapter 9 The next morning, Lance arrived at the Lostridge's house.  He
told Millie that he was looking for Rebecca, but he kept looking up the
stairs to see if Harriet might make an appearance.  While he fidgeted in
the hallway, Rebecca sat in her room and stared at her reflection in the
mirror.
   Millie poked her head in the bedroom door, "Your young man is a waiting
by the front door, Miz Becca."
   "Thank you, Millie," Rebecca replied absently.
   Rebecca had seen him drive up but still didn't know if she wanted to let
him take her to the library.  The smell of the boy's locker room kept
coming back to her as she debated what she should do about Lance.  She
weighed his popularity against his rudeness, his money against his
immaturity.
   Finally, she decided to give him one more chance.  She greeted him in
the front foyer.  He tried to kiss her before they'd even made it to his
car and Rebecca tried to firmly but gently let him know that she wasn't
ready to pick up where they'd left off.  Lance shrugged her rejection off,
changing the subject as he drove through town.  They passed by the high
school, and when Lance pulled his Model T behind the practice field's
hedge, Rebecca wondered if she'd made a mistake.
   "I told you, Lance.  We're not going to start this again."
   "C'mon Princess.  I know you're not really mad at me."
   "Then you're wrong again.  I didn't like the way you pawed at me.  You
tore my dress.  And now I've heard that you've been telling all your
friends that I'm a slut."
   Lance didn't bother trying to deny her accusations.  "Sugar, a wild
thing like you needs a man with a firm hand," he said closing in on her.
   "Three strikes, Buster.  You're out.  Women like a man who is gentle,
slow, and considerate."
   Lance reached for her and grabbed her breast.  With his other hand, he
pulled her face toward his and kissed her roughly.  Using his strength to
pin her to the door, he kneaded her breast like bread dough.  When she
moved her hand to keep him from tearing her blouse, he shifted targets and
tried to force his hand up her skirt.  His long fingers poked and scratched
her cotton knickers.  Alarmed and afraid, Rebecca wrestled her hand free
and slapped his face as hard as she could.  He sat up panting, as if he'd
run a race.
   "You can't keep teasing me like this," he said.
   She used the momentary breather to jump out of the car and compose
herself.
   "Don't come to my house anymore." Rebecca turned on her heel and ran to
the library as quickly as she could.
   -=)0(=
   McPherson's soda counter was usually slow in the morning, so that was
when Stevie would work in the studio.  Kelly arrived, still a bit nervous,
and found Stevie and a skinny blonde girl setting up one of the sets.
   "Hi Kelly.  This is Goldie," Stevie said, making the introductions.
   He explained that they were going to pretend that the girls were bored
harem slaves.  As he explained what was going to happen, it suddenly dawned
on Kelly that she was going to be touching another naked woman.  She posed
on the oversized pillows as if she were sitting on eggshells.
   Goldie reached over and took Kelly by the hand.  "Come on, dearie, I'll
help you though it.  I've got to be back at work for the lunch shift, so I
don't have a lot of time."
   Kelly looked at Stevie, a scared and bewildered look on her face.  "I'm
sorry.  It's...it's just that I've never been with another girl like...like
that."
   Goldie rubbed her face in her hands.  Looking up, she shot a frustrated
glance at Kelly.  Stevie stood frozen in the middle of the room, caught
between the two girls.  "Stevie, just give me my money.  I don't have time
for her to get comfortable with this." Already in her underwear, she
started picking up her clothes.  "I'll take my dough and be on my way."
   Kelly huddled in the corner, her eyes brimming with tears.  "I'm sorry.
I didn't mean to make you mad."
   "You didn't, sweetie.  I do this for the money and I've got to get to my
other job.  If I'm late for the lunch shift, I'll get fired."
   Stevie was frantic.  "Goldie, I don't have ten bucks.  You know that I
can't pay you until Mr.  McPherson pays me for the pictures."
   "Tough shit, sport.  Pay up, we're burning daylight."
   "Goldie, please.  Maybe you could show her how to do it." He clutched
his camera in his hands.  "Kelly, all you need to do is relax.  Goldie can
show you all you need to do.  You don't need to actually do anything, just
pretend.  I'll take the pictures and everything will be all right."
   Goldie tossed her dress back into a chair.  She looked at Kelly, taking
in the younger girl's petite, firm body.  Her brain raced through a number
of possibilities.  She knew that Stevie probably couldn't pay her.  She
also knew that if she walked out, he might start using the cute little
cheerleader instead of her.  She needed the money - her pride she'd buried
a long time ago.
   Goldie blew a kiss at Stevie.  "I get double what you usually pay me. 
I'm not running a kindergarten here, you know." She held her hand out to
Kelly.  "Come with me, dearie, let Goldie show you how everything works."
   She led Kelly to the simple set - a drop cloth hung against the wall -
and had her stand next to a stool.  Goldie stood behind Kelly and made sure
that Stevie was ready "Start snapping, picture man," she said and softly
massaged Kelly's shoulder.  "Just relax, dearie.  I'm going to start by
helping you take your clothes off.  You've done that before, haven't you?"
   Stevie tried to be invisible as he snapped pictures of Goldie sliding
Kelly's clothes off, piece by piece.  At first, Kelly tensed whenever
Goldie's hands touched her bare skin, but by the time her bra joined the
rest of her clothes on the floor, Kelly was starting to enjoy or at least
accept the other woman's caresses.  Kelly lightly teased her own nipples,
watching the older blonde with a growing sense of excitement.
   Goldie stepped back and shucked her underwear in three quick movements.
She put one foot up on the stool and shamelessly ran her hands over her
fleshy sex, smiling when saw a bright red blush creep over the young
cheerleader's face and neck.  Noticing the reaction Kelly was having,
Goldie put her hand on Kelly's shoulder.
   "I might be a little rough around the edges, but I still got it where it
counts," she said.
   Goldie's hand trailed off Kelly's shoulder, brushing her fingertips down
the young girl's back until they rested in the hollow of her back just
above Kelly's backside.  When she felt Kelly flinch, Goldie drew the other
girl closer.  "Put your arms around my neck and smile for the camera," she
coached.
   Kelly hesitated, as if she were diving into freezing cold water.  She
swallowed hard before doing as she was told.  Her nipples felt like red hot
coals as they pressed into Goldie's flesh.  Kelly felt dizzy, melting into
Goldie's arms as the taller girl pulled her close.  Stevie's hands shook as
he switched cameras.
   Goldie put her mouth to Kelly's ear, whispering encouragement.  "You're
doing fine." She took one of Kelly's breasts into her hand and lightly
squeezed its firmness.  "You keep your eyes on Stevie.  Relax and I'm going
to make you feel better."
   Kelly shuddered as Goldie took an engorged nipple into her mouth. 
Stevie's camera was a steady stream of clicks.  Goldie's hands roamed over
the cheerleader's taut flanks and wiry curls.  Goldie stretched out her
tongue and tasted Kelly's sweet nectar.  Stevie's camera caught the
enraptured look on Kelly's face as Goldie's fingers joined her tongue. 
Kelly's knees wobbled and she leaned against Goldie for support.  Goldie
helped her sit, immediately returning to licking, once the cheerleader was
safely perched on the stool.
   By the time Goldie had finished, Kelly had cum several times.  Goldie
looked at the camera and licked her lips.  Her chin shone with Kelly's
juices.  Resting her hand on Kelly's furry triangle, she sat up and planted
a big, wet kiss on Kelly's lips.
   "Girls that was," Stevie licked his dry lips and searched for the right
words.  "That was fantastic."
   -=)0(=
   "Hey, Mrs.  Lostridge, is Rebecca home?" Lance stuck his head through
the back gate.
   "Oh, Lance.  Hello.  Rebecca's still at the library." Harriet tried to
keep her eyes from dropping below Lance's shirt collar.  "I'm just cleaning
out the garage today." She pulled her collar out and fanned herself.  "It's
awfully hot today," she said.
   "Maybe I can help you out," he said, closing the gate behind him.
   Harriet watched him walk closer, a voice in her head screaming warnings
about what she knew would come next.  "I...I could use some help, I guess."
She didn't resist when he took her hands into his.  "Some heavy lifting. 
That kind of stuff."
   Lance led Harriet into the family garage, carefully locking the door
behind him.  "Let's stop playing games, Harriet." He closed the distance
between them in a few swift steps like a hunting cat.  "I can call you
Harriet, can't I?  Especially after yesterday."
   He took her into arms and kissed her forcefully.  Harriet struggled to
push him away.  "Take a breath.  Slow down.  We don't have to rush into
things like we're running to a fire."
   "But you make me so hot," he plucked at her blouse, spreading its collar
and exposing her creamy mounds.  He pushed his hands into her bra and
fingered her thick nipples.  "Stop stalling, you know that you want it as
bad as I do."
   Harriet knew that it was true.  She did want him as bad as he wanted
her. She slid out of his arms and opened the car door.  Climbing up into
the back seat, Harriet bunched her skirt up around her waist.  She used her
long legs to place one foot on each door before pulling her panties aside
and exposing her auburn trimmed quim.
   "It's time you learned some patience." She rubbed her fingers back and
forth through her slit.  "Oh, I can't believe that I'm doing this.  Come
here," she said, patting her pussy.  "I want you to learn something."
   Lance grumbled, "Real men don't eat bearded clams."
   Harriet gently pulled his face between her legs.  "Real men know that
it's better to give than to receive.  And besides, if you can't stand to
stick your tongue in it, you're not going to get to stick anything else in
it."
   She tried to talk him through the basics of cunnilingus but soon
realized that Lance wasn't interested.  Despite his physical beauty and
stamina, she had to admit that Lance was a lousy lover.  Lying back, she
let him enter her.  Like the time in the garden shed, Lance rutted wildly.
He came quickly, leaving her to bring herself off with her fingers while he
dressed.
   He watched her fingers dance across the swollen nubbin at the top of her
slit.  "You know if you keep that up, we just might have to have a second
round."
   Harriet shivered and expelled her breath in a long drawn out sigh. 
Having him stare at her spoiled the warm glow she usually felt after she'd
climaxed.  "I think we're through for today," she said, suddenly
embarrassed by her nakedness.
   Lance shrugged and climbed out of the car.  "So, you think I could catch
Rebecca at home if I came around later this evening.  Say after dinner,
around seven?"
   "I don't think it's a good idea for you to be here when the rest of the
family's home.  Besides, Becca's been helping some boy take pictures for
his Art School portfolio."
   Lance's eyes narrowed.  "How helpful of her," he sneered.  "I'll have to
try and find her down at the library."
   Harriet watched him go.  She felt dirty, her thighs sticky with sweat
and semen.  She sat in the darkness and sobbed quietly, unsure how she'd
come to the point where she'd accepted fucking her daughter's boyfriend.
   -=)0(=
   RJ arrived at Elsa's apartment for lunch.  She served his lunch and
stood next to his chair.  He smiled and ran his hands up her silk
stockings. He toyed with the tops of her hose, rubbing her soft skin.  He'd
been looking forward to lunch.
   "What are going to do this afternoon, Miss Flint?" RJ dabbed the corners
of his mouth with his napkin.  "I'm all tense.  I need to relax a little
before we talk business."
   Elsa's was breathless.  "What business?"
   "The bank's holding a big conference at a place called the Homestead. 
It's a big hotel back in the Valley.  All the major players from all of the
branches will be there." His hand climbed up her leg and rested against the
peach fuzz of her pouty nether lips.  "It'll be my chance to introduce you
to all the right people."
   Elsa's head rolled back as she gave herself to him.  RJ's fingers spread
her labia while his thumb found her wrinkled brown rosette.  She shifted
her feet farther apart and rocked her hips back and forth, helping his
fingers find their goal.
   "All I need to do is to relax so that I can plan out how we're going to
pull it off without giving the game away," he said.  "Now you wouldn't have
any ideas on how I could relax, do you?"
   Elsa leaned forward and supported herself against the table.  She pushed
her hips back into his hand, groaning as his thumb pressed against the
tight ring of her anus.  He held his hand steady and let her masturbate
against his probing digits.  Flexing her calves, she swayed back and forth,
impaling herself on his fingers.  At one point she stopped and squeezed her
vaginal muscles, clamping them around his fingers like a warm, wet vise.
   "Take me," she pleaded.
   "You can ask better than that," he teased, rotating his thumb and making
her tremble.  "Ask me like you really mean it."
   "God.  Oh I mean it, I really mean it," she gasped.  She knew what he
wanted to hear, but even after surrendering herself so completely, it was
still hard for her to use the filthy words he had taught her to use.  "Fuck
me.  Put your cock in my...my cunt and fuck m-m-mee."
   "Talking dirty like that seems to really turn you on," RJ said.  He left
his hand buried inside her as he stood and unbuckled his pants with his
other hand.  "Who knew that a proper little girl could be such a whore?"
   She felt herself flush with shame, but she knew that it was true.  "You
did."
   "Mmmm.  Maybe I just saw how hungry you were to get a seat at the head
table."
   He laughed coarsely, removing his hand from her snatch and replacing it
with the head of his cock.  "You're so wet.  So wet and hot," he told her
as he slowly worked his cock inside her.  "I'm glad you like getting my
cock stuffed into you from behind."
   She laid her torso against the cool wooden table top, spreading her legs
and pushing back against his thrusts.  "Yesss.  I like it when you fuck me,
Mr.  Loss...Lostridge.  Fuck my little pussy." She gasped when RJ slid his
thumb back into her ass, pumping it in and out in time with his cock's
thrusts.
   "Yeah baby," RJ said through gritted teeth, "The only thing tighter than
your puss is your hot little ass." He felt her quiver underneath him.  "Bet
you'd like for me to stick my big, fat cock in your tight little butt,
wouldn't you?"
   "Nooo."
   He added a second finger inside her anus, helping to stretch her tight
muscles.  His fingers felt the ridge of his corona through the thin wall of
her ass.  Pressing down increased the friction between his cock and her
cunt, making her snug pussy even tighter.
   RJ pulled his cock out and placed its slick head against the small
rosette.  Elsa stood stock-still.  RJ rubbed her lower back as he pressed
against her anus.  "Relax, baby.  Breathe out and relax.  I'll take it real
slow so you enjoy yourself."
   Despite his patience, Elsa cried out when he pushed the plump head of
his cock inside her back passage.  He stopped but didn't pull out.  His
cock felt like a steel bar.  He couldn't have stopped if he'd wanted to. 
Little by little, he pushed his cock deeper into her virgin ass until his
balls rested against her quim.
   Elsa looked as if she were on another planet, lost somewhere between
pain and the pleasure of feeling his entire length inside her.  RJ pulled
out as gradually as he'd entered her, pausing when only the tip remained
inside her before pushing forward again.
   The sensation was incredible.  The lovely, pliant girl lay limply on the
table, murmuring obscenities as he watched his cock disappear between the
alabaster globes of her ass.  He'd never been brave enough to try and talk
Harriet into anal sex.  The thought of Harriet bent over in front of him,
taking his cock into her forbidden passage, sent him over the edge.  He
stumbled back, pulling his cock and watching a jet of cum shoot over her
back.
   "Jesus," he cried.  He milked his cock, spewing jets of his seed into
the crack of her ass.  Feeling slightly dizzy, he sat heavily into the
chair, his cock flopping wetly against his thigh.
   "Christ, that was good.  I haven't done that since I was in Cuba, back
in the Army in '06." He reached across Elsa's prostrate form and grabbed
his drink.  "That's when me and the big boss used to go around Havana
chasing whores and drinking the best rum you ever imagined."
   "You were in the Army with Mr.  Scott?  The Mr.  Scott?"
   "None other.  Gustavus Beauregard Scott was my battery commander then
and the president of the bank now." He stumbled into the bathroom and
washed up, talking to her over the gurgling tap.  "GB used to like the
Havana gals.  Especially the married ones.  They always took it up the ass.
Said they didn't want their husbands to notice any difference in their
pussies."
   Elsa sat gingerly on a napkin.  Returning from the bathroom, RJ tossed
the hand towel over his shoulder at the sink.  "Let's get back to the
office.  I've got to lay the groundwork for your trip to the Homestead and
I'm feeling inspired."
   Chapter 10 The next day, Bud crouched in his tree house with Thorny. 
The boys passed postcard folios between them, often making rude comments
about the size or shape of the posing girls.  Thorny thumbed through the
pictures over and over, shuffling them like baseball trading cards.
   "Here's a new one," Thorny said and tossed a folio at Bud.  "She looks
fresher than most of the regulars."
   Bud looked through photo series; it was a corny Greek mythology story. A
girl dressed in a gauzy shift and a mask posed next to a very fake looking
forest pond.  She shed more and more of her clothing in each photo. 
Finally, she spread her knees and played with her pussy as the camera
caught her every move.
   "Not bad," Bud agreed.  Arriving at the end of the folio, he flipped
back to the beginning and ran through the pictures again.  He stopped at
one particular picture.  The girl was bent over in a cheesecake pose, her
leg and hand strategically placed to keep her private parts from view.
   "Holy shit," he said, half to himself.  His eyes zeroed in on a small
mark, almost like a bruise, on her hip.  He knew it because he'd run his
hands across it before; run his hands across it as he caressed his
girlfriend's body.
   Bud made a quick excuse to Thorny and borrowed the postcards.  Tucking
the folio inside his shirt, he ran through the alley to Kelly's house. 
Kelly walked him through the house to the back porch, discreetly far enough
away from her mother that they couldn't be overheard.  Making sure that
they were alone, Kelly went up on her tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss.
   Ignoring her embrace, he jerked his face away from hers and stood
coldly. He seethed with anger as handed her the postcards.  "Tell me about
these," he said.
   Kelly recognized the pictures immediately.  She sank into the porch
swing, her shoulders shaking as she started to sob quietly.  Bud sat next
to her, his voice tight.
   "Why would you do this?  I wanted you to be special, not spreading your
legs like some whore.  I'm so mad.  It's like my head is going to explode."
   Kelly didn't look up.  Her voice muffled from her hands.  "I'm
pregnant."
   Her answer stunned Bud to silence.  He dropped the pictures onto the
floor, where they laid ignored between his feet.  "My God.  I'm so sorry."
   "I never thought it would happen so quickly.  We only made love four or
five times," she snuffled.  "I posed so that I could earn money and leave
Kingsport.  I don't want anyone else to know.  I'll go away from here and
no one will suspect the truth."
   "No.  You can't leave." Bud's head swam as he tried to come to grips
with what Kelly had just said.  "I'll go with you.  I've got some money and
I can earn more this summer.  And Dad said he'd let me work after school
next year."
   Her face was red and puffy from her tears.  She gave him another kiss
and patted his hand.  "Bud, thank you, but this is all on a timetable." She
spoke slowly, as if explaining something to a child.  "I used some of my
Home Economics notes to work out how much money I'd need," she said.  "I
need almost $500 before Labor Day and I figure that, if I leave before
school starts up in September, I won't have started to show."
   "But how would you run away?"
   Kelly dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief.  "I'd tell my parents that
I was going to see Grandma.  Buy a train ticket and disappear.  With a four
day head start, I could be halfway across the country before people started
to look for me."
   "I'm going with you," he stated flatly.  "I'm not going to run out on
you.  What can I do to help?"
   "You don't know what you're saying.  You can't give up your life for
me."
   "Why not?" he checked himself, realizing that his voice had grown too
loud.  "Why not?  I got you into this fix.  I can't just turn my back and
let you try to work your way out of it alone."
   Kelly launched herself against him, hugging him so tight that he had
trouble catching his breath.  "I knew you loved me," she said.  She rained
kisses on his face and neck.
   Chapter 11 Stevie was surprised when Kelly arrived for the next photo
shoot escorted by Bud.  Kelly went to work immediately on Stevie,
alternately pleading and threatening him to let Bud pose with her.  When
Goldie arrived, she leered at Bud and agreed with Kelly.  Or so it seemed.
   Goldie smugly sat in a chair, crossed her legs and lit a cigarette. 
"Before we get started," Goldie said, "let's just make sure that everyone,"
she arched her painted eyebrow at Kelly, "agrees that we are going to share
and share alike."
   "What do you mean?" Stevie asked.  Kelly, her stomach suddenly sour,
just looked at the floor.  She knew what Goldie was getting at.
   "Share and share alike," Goldie repeated.
   Kelly nodded silently.  She had no idea how she would feel when it came
time to share Bud.  She tried to block her worries out of her mind and
concentrate.
   Stevie shook his head and gave up trying to understand what was going on
between his two models.  He was preoccupied with what he'd have to tell
Rebecca when she discovered that her brother and her best friend were
having sex in front of his camera.  What had started as a way to get some
quick, easy money was starting to get too complicated.
   He took a deep breath and cleared his mind.  Three pairs of eyes looked
at him expectantly, waiting for him to sketch out a scene for them to play.
"We'll start with the girls.  Then Bud will join them." The girls knew what
he wanted and moved toward the ratty old sofa.  Stevie wrung his hands and
looked at Bud.
   Pulling Bud aside, Stevie pitched his voice low so that the girls
couldn't hear.  "Relax.  If you can't get hard, just start licking."
   "Wha..." Bud pulled away, unsure what Stevie was implying.
   "Some guys get stage fright," Stevie explained.  "Just take your time
and concentrate on the girls.  I'll take care of the rest."
   "Whenever you boys are ready," Goldie called.
   Bud looked over Stevie's shoulder.  The girls stood ready by the sofa,
comfortably leaning against each other.  Goldie stood behind Kelly, gently
caressing the shorter blonde's shoulders.  Stevie took his place behind the
camera, giving the girls a quick wave when he was ready.
   Goldie undressed Kelly slowly, giving Stevie time to capture the best
angles.  When Kelly was wearing only her panties, she turned to help Goldie
shed her frock.  Once she'd freed Goldie's small paps, Kelly looked over
Stevie's head and shot a smoldering look at Bud.  She stuck out her tongue
and theatrically took Goldie's nipple into her mouth, teasing its red tip
with her sharp white teeth.
   Bud shifted his rapidly swelling cock to a more comfortable position,
his eyes riveted to Kelly as she worked her way down Goldie's stomach to
the dark patch between her legs.  He'd never imagined Kelly having sex with
another girl and now it was happening only a few feet away.  She looked up
from Goldie's snatch and crooked her finger toward him.
   Bud joined her without a second thought.  Stevie moved to a better
position, keen to capture the sight of Bud and Kelly sharing the taste of
Goldie's juices.  A few minutes later, the girls shifted so that they could
share Bud's cock.  Stevie crouched between Bud's knees, his wrist cramping
as he shot and wound picture after picture of the double blowjob close-up.
   Unwilling to stop the action, Stevie laid aside one camera and took up
another, already loaded one.  The girls rearranged themselves again, this
time Kelly lay back and let Goldie crawl over her.  The first time they'd
done this, Stevie had called it "soixante-neuf" but Goldie had laughed
scornfully and told her that she had heard that it was called
"sixty-nining." Whatever it was called, the girls seemed to enjoy it,
diving into each other's wet loins with a vengeance.
   While Goldie burrowed her tongue deep into Kelly's tunnel, Kelly reached
back and steered Bud's rigid cock into the other girl.  Bud tried to glide
his tool smoothly in and out of Goldie, stopping whenever Stevie wanted a
picture.  He could see Kelly watching him from underneath Goldie.  Whenever
his stroke brought her against the blonde waitress's body, Kelly's tongue
would tease his balls or stretch to taste the oily nectar that coated his
shaft.  Bud had never imagined that anything could feel so good.  Within
moments, his restraint crumbled and he spilled his seed inside Goldie's
body.
   Trying to apologize, Bud pulled out and turned toward Stevie.  Kelly,
still trapped underneath Goldie, stopped him from leaving and took his cum
covered schlong into her mouth.  Stevie's camera came to life again as
Kelly made a great show of cleaning his cock with her tongue until her lips
and chin were shiny with his jism.
   Bud's cock started to re-inflate, growing stiff from Kelly's
enthusiastic attention.  He helped Goldie climb off the divan and then
moved to kneel between Kelly's legs.  Goldie squatted beside Kelly's head,
kissing her neck and telling her how much she'd enjoyed the feeling of
Bud's cock inside her.
   "Now he's going to fuck you, sweetie," Goldie purred.  "His big fat cock
is all ready for you." She reached forward and caressed Kelly's firm tits.
She teased and pinched Kelly's swollen nipples as Bud slowly inserted
himself into his girlfriend's ready box.  Kelly sighed, arching her back to
increase the contact between Goldie's bleach-roughened hands and her
sensitive nipples.
   "She likes it, Bud," Goldie sucked on one of Kelly's earlobes.  "Yes,
she does.  Fill her hot little snatch.  That's what she wants.  Yess."
   Stevie moved around the slowly copulating trio, his camera making soft
clicks.  Bud lasted longer this time, holding off his orgasm until Stevie
ran out of film.  Goldie held Kelly against her bare chest, feeling the
younger girl shake and tremble as her orgasm swept her away.
   Bud stumbled away, his knees weak and his head dizzy.  He collapsed on
to a stool and drained a tall glass of water.  When he looked up, he saw
his sister watching him.  Some of the water went down his windpipe and he
choked, spewing water as he tried to catch his breath.
   "Becca, what are you doing here?"
   "I help Stevie do the developing.  And you?"
   "Well I...Kelly that is..." he stammered, trying to hide his flaccid
cock from his sister and find the words to explain how he'd made his
girlfriend, his sister's best friend, pregnant.
   "Ain't this touching," Goldie's sarcastic drawl cut through the
embarrassing scene, "but could someone hand me a blanket?  It's getting a
bit chilly in here."
   Everyone started to move.  The girls retired to a screened corner to
change and Stevie went to the darkroom, leaving Bud alone with Rebecca. 
She waved off his attempts to explain and turned around to let him scramble
back into his clothes.
   "On the one hand, I'm glad you're willing to help Kelly and take
responsibility for what you did." Rebecca pursed her lips and tried to find
the words to say the rest.  "But we've got to make sure that no one finds
out that you're doing this."
   "I need to help her raise $500.  I'm going with her.  We'll be gone
before Labor Day."
   Rebecca didn't answer.  She felt responsible for letting Kelly pose for
Stevie's pictures, but she hadn't counted on her brother getting mixed up
in it as well.  "Let's just get the money and then we'll talk about the
rest."
   Stevie coughed discreetly, letting the siblings know that he'd come back
into the room.  "I have an idea that might help," he said.  "If you need
that kind of money, we can earn it in a couple of weeks but it'll need
something more than postcards."
   "You've got my attention, Stevie dearie," Goldie chirped from behind the
screen in the corner.
   Stevie crossed the room and held up a wooden box, about the size of a
small radio, with two circular canisters fastened on to the top.  "I used
some of my savings to get this." He cradled the camera in his arms
lovingly. "I want to study film production some day."
   Setting the camera carefully back in its case, Stevie started to explain
his idea.  "Mr.  McPherson shows stag films down at the Masonic Lodge on
Wednesday nights and for special parties.  I've been working out how to do
it and I think we could get about a twenty or thirty minute picture without
much problem.  Now," he wet his lips and went for the hard sell, "if we
want to make a movie, I can fix up a script in about a week.  It'll take a
day to shoot." His voice rose with his excitement.  "I can go up to
Baltimore on the next ferry and have it ready inside another week."
   Bud laughed scornfully.  "Script!  It's a fuck film for Christ's sake.
You're not Cecil B.  DeMille, I'm not Valentino, and this isn't Hollywood.
Just set up the camera and we can get this started."
   Stevie looked offended.  "I can sell Mr.  McPherson a good film for good
money or we can make a quick peep show loop and he'll only pay peanuts.  We
can make some postcards while I'm working on the script.  Just stick with
it for two weeks and we'll have your money," he said.
   Bud and Kelly went to the cinema that night.  Bud tried to enjoy Douglas
Fairbanks as the Thief of Baghdad, but he couldn't stop thinking about how
he'd be in front of the camera.  He daydreamed about acting - Stevie
yelling action and Kelly swooning in his arms - until they'd almost reached
Kelly's house.
   "Bud, I want to do the movie," she said in a quiet, scared voice.  "If
Mr.  McPherson won't pay the $500 for it, then we've still got time to make
more postcards.  If we can't get enough money, I'll have to tell my parents
the truth."
   She squeezed his hand and smiled when he wrapped his arm around her
shoulders.  "We'll get through this together," he said.  "Somehow."
   Chapter 12 The day started bright and early.  Bud and Rebecca drove
their parents' car, with Kelly in the back, seat to the studio.  Stevie and
Goldie loaded the camera and a picnic lunch into the trunk as soon as Bud
brought the car to a stop.  The equipment secure and everyone packed into
the big Dodge Touring car, they started out.
   Goldie was the first to break the silence.  "It better warm up or I'm
not dipping my bare ass in any creek," she said, only half-joking.
   "We'll do the shots of Bud in the car first," Stevie said as they drove
through town, "and then we'll get to you girls skinny-dipping."
   "A regular D.W.  Griffith, that's what you are," Goldie said and blew a
cloud of cigarette smoke out her window.
   Stevie explained the simple plot to them as Bud left the town and
searched for the dirt road that would take them to where Stevie wanted to
film.  Stevie, excited at the prospect of making a movie, became quite
animated as he described the story.
   "All right.  Bud's a traveling salesman.  It's hot, he's tired, and he
pulls off the road to take a piss.  He looks through the bushes as he's
peeing and sees two girls skinny-dipping in a pond.  He watches them making
love and then, when they're done, he tries to get a closer look."
   Stevie checked to make sure that they were headed in the right direction
and then continued.  "Goldie will dive into the water, leaving Kelly lying
on the bank.  Bud will move around a tree, putting his back to Goldie,
who'll surprise him.  Then..."
   "Get to the point, Professor," Goldie teased.
   "Anyway, Bud gets caught and the girls share him there on the bank. 
When they're done, they swim away.  At the end, it's supposed to be like
Bud was dreaming it all or something."
   Goldie was about to interject another sarcastic comment when Bud
announced that they had arrived.  He dropped off the girls at the pond and
then drove back and forth along the narrow little road while Stevie filmed.
After a few passes, he pulled the car off the road and got out, posing in
front of bushes for Stevie's camera.
   "How's the water, Goldie?" Bud shouted.
   Again Goldie's repartee was interrupted, this time when Kelly pushed her
co-star into the water.  Goldie came back to the surface sputtering curses.
"You're damn lucky I'm not freezing my tits off," she told Stevie.
   Eager to get started, Stevie positioned the camera behind a hole in the
foliage.  "Just stay in that patch of sun," he said.  "Kelly, get in the
water with Goldie.  I need some shots of the two of you swimming..."
   "I can take it from here, Maestro," Kelly said, mimicking Goldie's
sarcastic tone.
   -=)0(=
   "Scooter, my boy, we're going to celebrate like we did all those years
ago," RJ said as he ushered Scooter into Elsa's apartment.  Both men were
already unsteady on their feet, a few too many shots of RJ's moonshine
making the floor pitch and roll.
   Elsa stood beside the small dining table, her hands clasped demurely in
front of her.  A leer spread over Scooter's face.
   "Happy Birthday, Scooter," RJ said.  "Elsa, wish Mr.  McPherson a Happy
Birthday."
   Her voice was shaky when she answered.  "Happy Birthday, Mr.  McPherson.
Would you like something to eat?"
   "Haw, haw," Scooter tossed his hat on the table, lurched toward a chair,
and adjusted his crotch.  "I think we'll get around to having a slice of
pie before we're done here, Sweetie."
   Elsa, dressed in a tight, skimpy dress and heels, served lunch.  The men
took turns pawing her body as she walked within arm's reach.  Laughing and
reminiscing, they finished their sandwiches and pushed back from the table.
The bulge in Scooter's pants showed that he was ready for the main event.
   "Scooter, you ready to unwrap your present?" RJ moved to the phonograph
and started a record.  The tinny strains of "Ain't She Sweet" filled the
tiny apartment.  "Elsa, show us a little dance."
   She pranced and posed, dropping a bit of clothing with each chorus.  The
girl shivered slightly but Scooter didn't care whether it was from fear or
excitement as more and more of her firm, alabaster flesh became exposed to
his gaze.  When her panties finally joined the pile of clothing, RJ took
the needle off the record.
   Elsa knew what was expected of her and, without being told, dropped to
her knees and crawled to sit at Scooter's feet.  He fished his prick from
his pants, licking his lips as he stared at the rose colored nipples of
Elsa's breasts.  He held his cock by the root, waving it toward her face.
"I think I'll start with your mouth," he slurred.
   RJ sat back on his chair and watched Elsa suck on Scooter's tool.  Her
dark red hair fell forward, obscuring her face from him and he found
himself fantasizing that she was Harriet.  His cock surged in his trousers
as he thought of his proper wife on her knees sucking off another man. 
Without consciously thinking about it, he pulled his cock out and slowly
stroked it.
   Elsa's oral technique had improved considerably over the last few weeks
and Scooter was soon showing signs of reaching his climax in her mouth. 
Elsa's hand burrowed itself into her wet furrow, alternately rubbing and
plunging in and out of her auburn fringed hole.  With some effort, Scooter
pushed her head away from his cock.  "Damn, her mouth is sweet."
   "Not as sweet as her coozy," RJ said, his hand never slowing its
strokes. "Go on, give her a try.  Elsa, c'mon over here and give me a hand
with this trouser snake while my best friend enjoys your pussy."
   A bright red flush covered Elsa's neck and chest.  She moved between
RJ's legs, resting her tits on his thighs, and reached between her legs to
spread her labia with her fingers.  Scooter wasted no time pressing his
slick, swollen cock against her wet snatch.  Without warning, he pushed
forward and plunged his entire length inside her in a single thrust.
   Elsa cried out, hanging on to RJ's legs as Scooter reamed her.  Although
she tried to suck on RJ's member, Scooter's violent thrusts kept jarring
RJ's cock out of her mouth, making her afraid that she'd bite him.  After
the initial shock wore off, her body accepted Scooter's frenzied prodding
and her cries became deep, throaty moans.
   "She's liking that," RJ sneered, "just keep on slamming that pussy."
   Scooter was lost in a world of his own, chanting in time with his
thrusts.  "Al-most-there.  Al-most-there." His hands clenched, pinching her
slender flanks, and his back arched as he shot his load into her body. 
"Shhh-yit!"
   His climax sapped his strength and Scooter hung on Elsa's rump like a
limp dishrag.  Suddenly freed from the frenzied poking and rocking, Elsa
immediately turned her attention to RJ's cock.  She looked into his eyes as
she sucked him, her eyes shining in adoration.  Or puppy love, he told
himself.
   RJ smoothed a sweaty lock of hair away from her face.  "Yes.  You did
real good, Sweetie.  Real good."
   Elsa, encourage by his praise, pulled herself back up onto his thighs.
Steadying herself, she poised her mouth over his prick.  She took a deep
breath and released it steadily through her nose, like a diver preparing to
launch from the high platform.  Her tongue led the way as she sank her
mouth over RJ's thick knob and the upper part of his shaft.  Her head
bobbed slightly as she took another breath and pushed her head toward her
lap.
   "Ah, Christ," RJ said when his cock nudged against the back of her
throat.
   Elsa steadied herself again.  She worked her muscles as if swallowing
and RJ felt his cock slide into her throat.  Struggling to stay still, RJ
gripped the chair's caned seat until his knuckles were white.  Elsa, having
swallowed his entire nine-inch length, carefully dipped her head back and
forth.  The sensations of her throat muscles massaging his knob bombarded
his senses.  His balls tightened briefly before releasing a torrent of cum
that erupted from his cock and spilled down her throat.  He felt as if
molten lava was jetting from his prick, leaving him spent and empty.
   RJ opened his eyes, white stars shooting across his peripheral vision.
Scooter had revived somewhat and sat behind Elsa's still spread legs
spreading the slick remains of their coupling around her wrinkled back
passage.  RJ tilted her head up so that he could look into her eyes.
   "Scooter, ol' buddy, I'm afraid we've got to saddle up and get ready to
ride." A look of relief came across Elsa's face as she realized she was
being granted a reprieve from an anal reaming.  "Elsa, why don't you go
freshen up?  We've got a train to catch."
   Scooter wiped himself off with one of Elsa's napkins and got dressed. 
"You're sure going to have a good time with that sweet little puss in that
hotel," he said, winking broadly at RJ.
   "Nah," said RJ as he snapped his suspenders back into place.  "I think
it'll be a good time to let her down easy.  She's starting to get a bit
too...what's the word...clingy." RJ checked to make sure that Elsa was
still in the bathroom.  "I wanna make sure that I end this before things
get messy, if you know what I mean."
   Scooter snorted, choking back his braying laugh, and slapped RJ on the
shoulder.  "Well, shit, I just might have to pay this little filly a call
now that you're letting her go."
   Chapter 13 Satisfied that the camera was where he wanted it, Stevie
started the camera and yelled action.  The girls swam around a little and
then Kelly started splashing Goldie.  They played for a while before Kelly
crawled out of the water and lay on a patch of grass on the bank.
   Still chest deep in the water, Goldie looked straight at the camera and
licked her lips.  She slowly walked out of the creek, the chilly water
making her nipples stand straight out.  Crawling up the soft, grassy, bank,
Goldie made straight for the furred cleft between Kelly's legs.  She held
Kelly's legs apart so that they didn't spoil the shot, determined that the
camera caught every part of her enthusiastic pussy licking.  Her fingers
played around the rim of Kelly's tunnel, teasing the moisture from her
pussy.  Pushing her slick fingers into Kelly's tight hole, Goldie toyed
with the cheerleader's ass with her ring finger while her thumb brushed
against Kelly's clit.
   Kelly writhed and squirmed under the combined attack of Goldie's hand
and mouth.  She arched her back, trying to press her burning, swollen sex
tighter against Goldie's flicking tongue and burrowing fingers.  Lost in a
surging sea of sensations, Kelly opened her eyes and saw Bud, his hand
slowly stroking his rock hard cock and his tongue absently licking his
lips, as if mimicking Goldie's enthusiastic efforts.
   Stevie's camera panned up from Goldie's mouth to catch Kelly's
expression as she came, her body shaking with the release.  Her fingers
still embedded in Kelly's sex, Goldie raised her head and ran her tongue
around her mouth, catching all of the sweet honey that had spread over her
chin.  Kelly pulled Goldie up her body and they kissed, their tongues
dueling in the air before Goldie dove back into the water.
   -=)0(=
   Ding-dong.
   Harriet answered the doorbell.  She took in Lance's tall, broad form in
the doorway, his wolfish smile marring his Adonis-like looks.  While Millie
puttered around the kitchen, Harriet put on her best hostess act,
pretending that she didn't know that Lance was really there to see her. 
She invited the young man into the living room, offering him coffee and
cookies.  After a few moments, Millie left the kitchen and went into the
laundry room.  Left alone with her daughter's boyfriend, Harriet's stomach
flinched.
   She turned toward the radio and he pounced.  Pressing his swollen crotch
against her bottom, he told her exactly what he wanted to do with her in
the coarsest of terms.
   "I've been waiting for this all day," he said.  Lance groped between her
legs and mauled her breasts through her blouse.  "I've been dreaming about
your cunt as it grabs my cock."
   Harriet squirmed as she tried to quietly escape his grasp.  She felt the
familiar tingling sensation building in her pussy, but this time it was
opposed by an equally strong conviction that having sex with Lance was
wrong.  She tried to avoid his pawing hands but he pursued her into a
corner.
   Pinned against the fireplace, Harriet struggled but Lance quickly had
her dress bunched around her waist.  His hands clawed at her clothing and
prodded between her legs.
   "You knew why I came here," he told her in a stage whisper.  "You wanted
my cock from the second you opened the door.  That's why you invited me in.
You couldn't do without the feel of my prick inside you."
   Harriet grunted as he poked his fingers against her labia, more in pain
than in excitement.
   "One...  one last time," she gasped, hoping that he would accept her
gift and leave her in peace.
   Lance snickered and threw her over the end of the couch.  Tossing her
dress over her hips, he pulled her panties over her bottom.  The strains of
a popular song filled the room.  Lance hummed along, out of tune, "Ain't
she sweet."
   Frustrated by her garters, he ripped her panties and brutally pushed
them to the floor.  Spreading her cheeks with his impatient hands, he
jabbed at her sex with his rigid prong.
   Lance took her roughly from behind.  The couch's silk upholstery
scratched and rubbed against Harriet's sensitive nipples.  The slapping
sounds of his thighs against hers filled the room as he pounded his cock
into her like a pile driver.  Faster and faster, he slammed his meat into
her, making her cry out in spite of the pain and humiliation she felt.
   Despite the loud music Millie listened to her mistress call out, the
unmistakable cry of a woman being taken by force.  She shook her head,
telling Tyrone, "Listen to that, the missus is upstairs with Miz Becca's
boy."
   Lance finished quickly, as usual, but this time Harriet had a surprise
for him.  "Now get out," she said.
   Lance's grin faded when he saw that she was serious.  "You're as big a
cock tease as your daughter," he taunted.  "And I'll tell her how hot you
were the next time she's sucking my cock."
   He left, slamming the door after him.  Left alone with the crackling
radio, Harriet broke down; her nice pretty world behind their white picket
fence destroyed forever.
   -=)0(=
   "We're sorry you have to leave so soon, Mr.  Lostridge," the desk clerk
said as he handed RJ the bill.  "We hope to see you again soon."
   "Somebody's got to look after the bank," RJ said, trying to make a joke.
He looked over his shoulder.  "Is my cab ready?"
   "Your luggage has already been loaded, Sir."
   "Thank you." RJ tried to maintain a dignified pace as he strode through
the lobby.  He'd almost made it past the cloakroom when Elsa came rushing
down the stairs.
   "You weren't going to leave without saying goodbye, were you?"
   "Elsa, we've already said our goodbyes." RJ steered her into a more
discreet corner.  "You're meeting with Mr.  Scott, the bank president, this
afternoon.  Show him that you're ready and he'll pull you out of the admin
pool."
   "But what about us?"
   RJ looked at his shoes and shuffled his feet, trying to say what had to
be said without causing a scene.  "We had a lot of fun.  You're going to
get your new job.  Let's leave well enough alone and see what happens
next."
   "But...but I thought..."
   "You're a very special girl, Elsa Flint." He gave her a quick peck on
the cheek.  "You need to get ready for your interview and I need to catch a
train."
   Elsa looked bewildered, like a child who didn't understand why she was
being punished.  "I'll see you on Monday," she said in a small voice.
   Not likely, RJ thought.  He'd already arranged for her transfer to one
of the branches in the northern part of the valley, a day's train ride
across the state away from him and Kingsport.  He climbed into the cab and
signaled the driver to start.  "Take me to the train station.  It's time to
go home."
   Chapter 14 Back at the pond, the gang finished their lunch while Stevie
repositioned the camera.  Rebecca packed the picnic basket back into the
car.  She had spent the entire drive wondering why she'd come, why she
wanted to watch the others having sex.  It wasn't the heat of the day that
had made her sweat when Goldie had crawled between Kelly's legs and now her
sex seemed to burn with desire.  Shutting the car's trunk, Rebecca decided
to sit in the back seat to regain her composure.
   They had started filming again but Rebecca was not to be found.  Stevie
hadn't noticed but Kelly, cloaked in a blanket and ready for her next
scene, went to look for Rebecca.  Kelly found her best friend lying the
back seat of the big Dodge Touring car, her legs splayed open and her hand
making squishing noises as it worked over and around her pussy.  Kelly
stepped into the car and closed the door behind her.  "I wondered if this
was getting to you."
   Rebecca removed her fingers from her sopping snatch but left her hand
between her legs.  Her thighs clenched and relaxed.  Her bottom lip
quivered.  "I can't help myself," she whined, "I need to cum."
   Kelly removed Rebecca's hand and covered the auburn furred mound with
her own.  "Yes.  You're so wet." Slick with Rebecca's oily juices, Kelly's
hand stroked back and forth in her friend's swollen slit.
   Rebecca's chest heaved, struggling to draw breath, as Kelly's hand
paused over her swollen nubbin.  "I keep trying to be a good girl."
   "Yes, you are.  You're a good girl," Kelly murmured, her eyes glued to
Rebecca's clit.  "Just relax."
   "But I want it so bad." She groaned as Kelly's fingers brushed around
the inside rim of her love tunnel.
   Kelly, her hand still massaging Rebecca's clit, pressed her body against
the tall redhead and kissed her deeply.
   "First, I'll help you relax," she said.
   Rebecca answered with a whimper, her hips canted forward to increase the
contact with Kelly's hand.
   "Then," Kelly continued, "I'll tell you how to enjoy Stevie.  All you
have to do is be careful."
   -=)0(=
   The girls emerged a few minutes later, both flushed but looking relaxed,
almost languid.  Goldie shot them a knowing look.  Rebecca blushed and
busied herself with a makeup box so that she wouldn't have to meet Goldie's
smug gaze.
   "Glad to see you back," Goldie took Kelly by the hand and led her to the
pond.  "You just sit right here.  It's my turn to fuck your boyfriend and
you're going to have a front row seat."
   Stevie aimed the camera so that he could capture Goldie and Bud in the
foreground.  Goldie knelt in front of Bud, holding his cock by the base,
and looked toward Kelly.
   "Now you watch how I'm going to suck this piece of meat," Goldie said.
"Then I'm going to ride this cock you keep hogging to yourself."
   Goldie sucked and stroked Bud's cock, making it hard and thick in her
mouth.  Kelly watched through the bushes, her hand alternating between her
pussy and her breast as she watched her boyfriend enjoy Goldie's oral
talents.
   Stevie waved and shouted, "Next," the signal for Kelly to join the shot.
She crawled through the foliage and slid against Bud's lean body.  He lay
on the grass, still encumbered by his clothes, his cock standing as
straight as a flagpole from his trousers.  Goldie stood over him, one foot
on each side of his hips, and slowly lowered her pussy toward the shiny,
swollen shaft.  Kelly grasped Bud's tool at the base and guided it into
Goldie's pussy.
   The look on Goldie's face was indescribable.  Her butt bobbed up and
down in short jerks, impaling herself on his bulbous knob inch by inch. 
Once she'd taken his entire length inside her, she sat on Bud's lap,
steadying herself on his chest.  She paused to savor the feeling of his
cock filling her pussy.  Leaning forward like a jockey, she started pumping
her hips up and down the long length of his shaft.
   Kelly knelt beside Goldie.  Her hands cradled and stroked Bud's balls
and Goldie's ass as they met at the bottom of each stroke.  Her finger
nestled against Goldie's pussy and teased the thin blonde's coral folds.
   Goldie leaned against Kelly for support.  The two girls embraced, Kelly
holding the other girl tight as Goldie concentrated on the tremors that
built inside their bodies.  Goldie slammed her body on to Bud's, trapping
his cock inside her convulsing love tunnel.  Her back arched and she
screamed as she surfed across the waves of pleasure that crashed through
her.
   Kelly helped her lay down on Bud's chest, petting and stroking the other
girl's back as Goldie caught her breath.  Kelly's caresses moved down
Goldie's back, softly kneading her thin rump, before dipping into the
creamy spend that oozed around Bud's still thick pole.  This time it was
Kelly who looked into the camera provocatively as she licked her fingers
clean of the creamy goo.
   Goldie gave Bud a deep kiss and then climbed to her feet.  She took
Kelly by the hand and, followed by Stevie's lens, skipped through the
bushes to the creek.  Bud, propped up on his elbows, his tie askew, watched
them go with his flaccid cock lying on his thighs.
   "Cut!  Excellent!" Stevie shouted.  "That was great."
   -=)0(=
   Drained from his long train ride, RJ stood on the curb for a moment and
took in the peace and quiet of his house on Bedlow Street.  He took a deep
breath of the azalea-scented air and lifted his case.  He trudged up to the
porch, suddenly weary.
   "Honey, I'm home," he called.  Without breaking his stride, he climbed
the stairs toward the bedroom he shared with his wife.
   As he moved up the hallway, he heard a slight splash of water and peeked
into the bathroom.  Harriet rose out of the tub to welcome him home.  RJ
stood frozen in the doorway, mesmerized by the sight of his voluptuous
wife. She stepped out of the tub, wiping water from her big tits and
brushing droplets from her curly mound.
   "You've been working very hard lately," she said, reaching for a towel.
   RJ's eyes devoured his wife's creamy, statuesque, form, almost as if he
were seeing her for the first time.  She dried herself, her eyes never
leaving his.  The towel lingered over her sex.  She rubbed herself and
shivered with excitement.
   Harriet stepped toward him, the towel shielding her body from his hungry
eyes.  "I just don't know what I can give you something to look forward to
after a hard day at work." The towel dropped to the floor.
   It was almost an hour later before she was able to catch her breath.  RJ
had taken her on the bathroom floor.  He hadn't smoothly seduced her like
some Casanova or swept her into his arms like Valentino.  He had fucked her
like a man possessed, an animal hungry for her body.  Reveling in his
passion, she completely surrendered herself to him and was soon overwhelmed
by her own feelings of love and lust.
   After the first round in the bathroom, they'd run to their bedroom like
teenagers.  Climbing on to the bed, she'd crawled on to all fours and
wiggled her bottom invitingly towards him.  RJ's eyes were glued to her
wrinkled rosette as he crawled up behind her.
   His cock sprang stiff and he cradled her soft hips in his hands. 
Holding her steady, he slowly slid his rigid member inside her warm gooey
cunt.  He forced himself to go slowly.  So slow that he shook with the
repressed need to pound his cock into her and prove that she was still his.
   Harriet looked over her shoulder, one eye obscured by a lock of auburn
hair.  "Fuck me," she said.  "I need another good fucking."
   A haze of lust enveloped him and he slammed his cock into her womb.  Her
tits shook and swayed with the force of his thrusts but he held her hips
steady and continued to drive his shaft deep inside her.  Harriet collapsed
under his assault, her arms giving way but her ass still held in the air.
RJ groaned and collapsed on top of her, a thin stream of his cum mixing
with her juices in the puddle on the bed.
   -=)0(=
   Harriet lay in bed next to her snoring husband.  One of her hands
strayed across her body, teasing the still sensitive parts of her sex as
she relived their coupling.  It dawned on her that she had found what she
had been looking for.  The only thing remaining was to discover the key to
keeping him home, keeping him from wandering after a few weeks of marital
bliss.
   RJ had pushed the bedspread down in the midsummer heat and Harriet
noticed that, despite having cum twice, his cock was still thick but not
quite hard.  She slid under the sheet and, without using her hands, took
his cock into her mouth.  By the time RJ woke, his cock was fully erect,
almost sore from its previous workout.  He lifted the sheet and saw her
bright green eyes looking up at him, her mouth still full of his cock.
   His cock made a popping sound as Harriet pulled it out of her mouth and
left a searing, wet trail down his shaft with her tongue.  "You know you're
going to have to fuck me again," she said.  RJ could only manage a soft
groan as she straddled his lap and guided his sword to her waiting sheath.
   -=)0(=
   The sun was setting as the group packed up and drove back to town, a
little sunburned and very tired from the day's activities.  Rebecca drove
and dropped off Bud and Kelly before heading for the studio.  Goldie helped
Rebecca carry the props upstairs while Stevie gently transported his camera
back to the studio.  The girls listened to Stevie's excited rambling while
he dashed around the loft packing the film and his notes into a case. 
Goldie gave them each a quick farewell kiss and, with one last squeeze of
Rebecca's hand, left them alone.
   Shutting the door behind Goldie, Rebecca leaned against the door and
gnawed her bottom lip with her fine, white teeth.  Stevie stood in the
middle of the room, looking around to see if there was anything else that
needed to be packed for his trip to Baltimore.  Rebecca moved smoothly
toward him.  Stepping into his arms, she folded her body against his in a
smooth, fluid glide.  They kissed, dancing to music that only they could
hear, lost in each other's embrace.
   "I've been on fire for you all day long," Rebecca finally managed to
gasp.  Still pressed against Stevie, she undid his shirt and ran her hand
down his smooth chest.  Reaching his waist, she unbuckled his belt and
pushed his trousers down to mid-thigh.
   "I can't stop.  I don't want to stop," Rebecca said as she dragged him
toward the bed.
   Stevie's hands shook as he undressed her.  Naked, Rebecca lay back and
pulled her knees up to her creamy white breasts.  The light in the studio
glistened in the dark furry patch between her legs.  Her swollen pussy lips
shone from the sheen of her nectar.
   No more words were spoken.  No more talking was necessary.  Stevie's
manhood entered Rebecca smoothly and pushed past her ripe hymen with almost
no resistance.  They stared into each other's eyes as they lost themselves
in each other.  She locked her ankles behind his back, pulling him deeper
and deeper with each stroke until she gave a choking scream and pulled his
body against hers.
   Instead of lying in her arms, Stevie pushed away, frantically pulling
his cock from her velvet tunnel.  He gave his cock two quick strokes and
splashed his seed across her quivering belly.
   -=)0(=
   "It's getting close to midnight," Stevie said.  "We need to be heading
home."
   Rebecca's kiss suggested that she might have other ideas but they were
interrupted when the door crashed open.  Lance swayed drunkenly in the
doorway.  A cigarette dangled from his sneer and a whiskey bottle hung from
his hand.
   "So this is where you've been giving it up, bitch?" He took a few
unsteady steps into the room.
   "How did you find us?" Rebecca tried to maneuver behind a ratty old
settee.
   "Your dad's car's in the alley.  I was on my way home when I saw it." He
set his bottle on a table and smiled at her.  "But now we're going to have
a little party." His head swiveled toward Stevie.  "You already got your
slice of pie, soda boy?  I hope you let her clean up afterwards, I hate
sloppy seconds."
   Lance looked back toward Rebecca.  In that instant, Stevie launched
himself against Lance.  The boys tussled back and forth, crashing against
the scattered furniture and props.  Even as drunk as he was, Lance's size
and strength soon gave him the upper hand.  He landed a fast punch against
Stevie's head, sending the thinner boy slumping bonelessly to the floor.
   Lance picked his cigarette off the floor, took a deep drag, and flicked
it away.  "So much for the warm-up, Babe.  Now I'm going to get what I've
been chasing after for months."
   Rebecca tried to dodge behind some props, hoping to hold Lance off until
Stevie revived.  Lance treated it like a game, laughing as he chased her
around the loft.  A loud whoosh from the dark room took their attention.
   "Shit, this place is on fire," Lance said.  A tongue of bright yellow
flame licked up the darkroom's curtain.  Abandoning his game with Rebecca,
Lance jumped up through the window and out onto the fire escape.
   Rebecca didn't wait to watch Lance run away.  She ran across the room to
Stevie.  Helping him to his feet, they made their way past the rapidly
spreading fire.  They had almost made it to the stairs when Stevie wrenched
away from her, diving back into the smoky room.  Coughing, Rebecca crawled
after him.  She had only made it a few feet when he met her, pushing the
case of film and his camera along the floor as he crawled toward the door
and down the steps.
   Behind them, the darkroom's chemicals exploded in their cans, spraying
the room with flames.  The fire filled the loft as the old sets and
costumes quickly ignited.  Smoke poured into the alley and fire sirens
howled in the humid night air.  Stevie pushed Rebecca into the car and
drove away through the narrow back streets.  Safely away from the scene of
the blazing warehouse, they stopped behind the practice field hedge.
   "I'm so glad you're all right," she panted between kisses.
   Chapter 15 A week had passed since they'd made the movie.  Bud arrived
at the soda counter for his meeting with Stevie.  He glanced at the front
page of a newspaper he'd found folded on the corner of the counter. 
Opening the paper, he read the headlines while he waited for Stevie to take
his break.
   "Says here that Lance will go on trial at the end of the month," Bud
looked up, but Stevie occupied himself with the silverware.  "The paper
says he might get five years for arson."
   Stevie still didn't answer.  One part of him might have pitied Lance for
facing five years on the county farm but another part of him was happy that
Rebecca could finally be his.  If she'd have him.  He nodded toward the
bathroom.
   "Let's talk someplace more private," he told Bud.
   Inside the bathroom, Stevie handed Bud an envelope stuffed full of $10
bills.  "This is your cut from the movie.  Three hundred dollars for you
and Kelly.  I've already given Goldie her share."
   "Stevie, thanks.  I mean, thanks for everything." Bud seemed
embarrassed. "Will you be making any more cards or movies?  I mean, now
that your studio's gone..."
   "Naw.  I think it's a good time to lay low for a while.  I might take a
couple of pictures of Goldie but I'll have to hold on to them until I find
another darkroom and get some new equipment.  Mr.  McPherson said he'd help
but I'm hoping to go to art school this fall, so I need to save my money."
   Bud tucked the envelope under his shirt.  "Well, I guess you're right.
Anyway, I gotta go." He turned toward the door.  "Oh yeah, my old man wants
me to ask you to Sunday dinner."
   "What?" Of all the things Bud could have said, that was one that Stevie
hadn't anticipated.
   "Yeah, Rebecca turned red and shit but Dad says that she hasn't been
able to finish a sentence without adding something about you all week, so
it must be time for you to come to dinner."
   After Bud left, Stevie stood in the dark, cramped bathroom.  He was so
happy he felt as if his heart were going to burst.
   -=)0(=
   Hugging the envelope full of money to his chest, Bud ran to his meeting
with Kelly, arriving breathless at the park's old bandstand.  The creaky
old shelter stood in the shade of a gigantic oak tree.  Making sure that no
one was watching them, they scurried under the bandstand and found a soft
place to sit in the warm darkness.
   "I got it," Bud said, holding out the envelope although she couldn't see
the money.  "It's enough for us to leave."
   "Bud.  I've got to tell you something.  I feel terrible."
   "What's the matter?  We've got the money, more than we need really," Bud
rambled.  "We could leave this week.  We don't have to wait for Labor Day.
Maybe we could go to California, or maybe..."
   "Bud, listen to me.  This morning...I, well, I'm not...I'm not
pregnant."
   "What?  How..."
   "Momma said that sometimes girls can get stressed or sick and that'll
make them late." Her voice was on the verge of sobs.  "I'm sorry.  I didn't
know.  I wasn't trying to..."
   He gathered her into his arms, crushing her against his chest.  "I know.
I know," he whispered into her hair.  "This just means that we've got more
time together.  We don't have to run away."
   "And you still..."
   "Yes, I still love you." Bud's mouth found hers in the darkness and he
smothered her sobs with his kiss.
   "I brought you a present," she said.  Kelly pressed a small foil square
into his hand.  Bud held it up against the dim light and tried to make out
what it was.
   "What is it?" he asked.  He could see the tiny writing on the side but
couldn't make out what it said.
   "They're called condoms.  Stevie got them for me.  I'll show you how
they're used."
   -=)0(=
   The sun set on the quiet town of Kingsport.  The setting sun cast a ray
of warm, golden light on a white clapboard house on Bedlow Street as Bud
Lostridge climbed his front steps.  He moved as if in a dream, his feet
knowing where to go without having to be told.  In his mind, he replayed
Kelly's words under the bandstand.
   "I want to be yours forever."
   The End.
   (c) Knave of Hearts 2003 Bedlow Street
   
  
Life on Bedlow Street