Original Post Date: Mon, 12 Feb 2001 

DISCLAIMER

This is a piece of fiction. Its characters have not even
begun to contemplate such things, mostly because said
characters do not exist.  Any imagined resemblance to people
living or deceased is either the result of dementia on the
reader's part or that the reader is, in fact, a character
this story.  None of these are conditions to be proud of,
and it would not be wise to draw attention to one's self by
claiming any similarity.

It is assumed that readers of this story have the permission
of the state, mom, dad, and the pastor and are able to fully
tell the difference between real and make-believe.  If not,
move along you lookie loos. Nothing to see here. Furthermore,
the writer is aware that he is bound for hell, but welcomes
both praise or/and well thoughts out, humourous insults on his
writing skill or lack there of. Note: he already knows he
cannot spell warth shet.

The events and descriptions of this story are the sole
property of Kenny N Gamera and should not be recorded,
reposted, or profited from in anyway without express written
permission of the person hiding behind that pen name.
Reposting and free archiving may be tolerated given the
writer's name and address remains attached.  Archiving by
Deja.Com and ASSTR/ASSM is assumed and encouraged.

Thank You and Good Day,
Kenny N Gamera
turtlemeat69@hotmail.com

ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/Gamera

                    Saturday in the Park
                             by
                       Kenny N Gamera

The girl was playing frisbee with her dog.  She would toss the frisbee in
the air for the dog to catch.  Usaully, the dog would let the damn thing
land and just pick it up.  It would then prance back to her companion, but
not to hand the frisbee back.  Instead, she would lead the hapless human in
a short chase around the grass.

Alan could hardly tell who was enjoying the game more.

He knew he was enjoying watching them.

The dog was nothing much: the type available at any pound.  The girl was
something else entirely.  Brunnete and fairly young, she wore a tee-shirt
with some now obsolete cartoon cigerrette company mascot and a pair of baggy
kakhi shorts.  Both did wonders at hidding her tits and ass from his
inspection but still left her long, thin legs exposed.  It was summer
(technically late spring), and Alan could suppose that he could trade a
chance to ogle some T'n'A for a chance to check out a young college chick's
long tan legs.

"You can tell she's been to Florida for spring break," came a voice next to
him.  It was clearly female and familar; he turned to she Shelly next to
him.  He shuddered a little.  Shelly did bad things to his memory.  She blew
out a puff of smoke.  "Glad to see me Alan?"

"Uh, yeah," Alan stammered.

Shelly shook her head as she drew in a hit from her cigerrette.  "Alan,
don't lie to me."  Her voice was calm and normal, not mock normal, really
normal.  "You and I both know better than that."

"Yes, Shelly."

Shelly looked back at the girl and blew out another puff of smoke.  Alan
just stared at her in confusion.  And frustration.  And...

"...and a little anger, Alan?"  She turned back at him and smiled.  "Now why
would you be angry at me, Alan?  After all, I did you a favour."

"Some favour.  I knew what I was before, now I have no idea..."

Shelly laughed.  She clearly laughed at him even if she was watching the
girl and dog play.  "You had no idea before, Alan.  I just gave you a clue."
  She turned to look at him.  "Or two."

"Shelly, I..."

"You like her, Alan?"  She pointed her long cigerrette at the girl.  "Do you
find her exciting?"

"She's alright," Alan turned to look at the girl, who tried to pull the
frisbee from the dog's grip.

"She is more than alright, Alan."  Shelly placed her hand on his thigh and
began to knead his leg muscle.  "You were watching her as I was watching
you.  You were thinking about her legs and her mouth and..."

"Damn you, Shelly!  Why are you..."

"...doing this to you?  Because I can.  Because it's fun.  Because I find
you interesting."  Her hand got to the edge of his shorts.  It went under
that boundry like the Germans through the French.  "I usually let my toys go
afterward, but I like you, Alan.  You're not afraid of me."

"Bullshit, I'm not.  You got me scared shitless."

Shelly hand found his already erect penis and began to rub it.  "Oh, you are
scared alright, Alan, but you would try to fight me if you could."  Alan
moaned at her learned touch.  "I would have a hard time breaking you down,
Alan."  A finger started to tickle the underside of his pisshole.  He closed
his eyes.  "I'm tried of broken people, Alan."

Her hand left his cotch, and she pointed at the girl.  "Watch, in ten
minutes she will be a weeping quivering mass of flesh."

The dog let go of the frisbee and the girl landed on her butt.  The dog than
ran over to the girl and they began to wrestle with each other. After a
moment, the rough housing stopped and the girl began to scratch the dog
behind the ears.

"The young girl is named Heather, and the dog is Misty, Alan.  Heather goes
to your college.  She is a freshman, but still got permission to live off
campus."

In response to the ear scratching the dog began to lick at Heather's face.
At first, this made Heather giggle.  After a moment, she began to squirm.
Then, her hands went to the waist band of her shorts to begin pulling out
her tee-shirt.  Alan turned to look at Shelly.

"Alan, please watch this," Shelly said without looking away from the girl.
"I don't want to make you watch this, but I will."

He turned in time to she the shirt pull away from her head.  Her short hair
fell back into place quickly.  Her breast were bralessly bare.  They, also,
pocessed the perkiness that only youthful women seem to have.  His father
would have said that a wet overcoat could be hung on her breasts without
them sagging.  Alan just thought, wow.

"Yes, Alan," agreed Shelly.  "They are something indeed."

Misty began to lick at the girl's neck, and she began to lower than kick
away her shorts.  Alan looked around quickly, to be sure that no one else
was watching this happen.  A man in a black suit and a briefcase walked by
without even a hello.  Alan returned his attention to the scene in front of
them.

Heather was squeezing her breasts together as Misty licked them with long
sweeps of her tongue.  Heather clearly was enjoying the new game that she
and her dog were playing, but she still pushed Misty away from her breasts
and wiggled away so that Misty could move her head between her human's legs.

Misty needed now instructions from Heather; she had already learned what
needed to be done.  Her tongue went right to work licking at the college
student's libia and clitoris.  The dog had no great skill at this sort of
thing, or at least so Alan imagined from what he saw.  Still, she had
enthusium for this new duty for her master and that brute force method seem
to be working for Heather.

Heather tossed her head back and forth as the dog licked away at her
privates.  Alan could hear her moans from where he sat, maybe half a
football field away.  He would have had no dificulties hearing her screams
when she orgasmed the first time, even if he had been at the park enterence.
  This was not good enough for Shelly, however.  Misty continued to lick at
Heather through two more orgasms.

After this, Misty pulled away.  Heather then got to her hands and knees to
crawl to the bench where Alan and Shelly sat.  She took a place in front of
Alan.   She sat on her side, in a sort of sexy, tramp like pose.  Her legs
streched away from her and then bent at the knees.  She looked at Shelly;
Alan could see tears in her eyes.

"Why?"

Heather somehow knew as Alan had last night and the night before that this
had something to do with Shelly.  It seemed to be the one weakness that
Shelly's power had: people knowing that Shelly was using them.  Shelly
seemed to enjoy that though.

"I was just showing Alan something, my dear."  Shelly waved at Alan.
"Heather, this is my...other friend, Alan.  Say hello to Alan, Heather."

Heather looked at Alan and between sobs said her greeting.

"You see, Alan.  Heather has already given up.  She KNOWS somewhere deep
inside that I can make her do anything I want her to.  You, Alan, still
think that you can beat me."

"Yeah. right," Alan muttered reluctatly as he stared at Heather's teary and
spitty face.

"Alan, I know things about you that you could only guess at.  You think that
you will beat me."  She smiled at him.  "I think that I may give you that
chance."

Shelly turned away from Alan to Heather.  She called the girl's name causing
the tear stained face to turn away from Alan.  "Did you enjoy playing with
Misty, my dear."

"Ye-Yess!" Heather bent her head in shame.  Alan could feel something in his
head going 'see she didn't even try to lie.'

"Well, in that case, I think that Alan needs a reward for causing this to
happen to you, don't you think so?"

Shelly reached back into Alan's shorts and pulled out his still rock hard
penis.  She gave it a few gentle strokes with her finger tips as Heather
adjusted herself forward towards Alan.  As a woman and a little girls
strolled by them, Heather's mouth swallowed  Alan's penis.

Heather was young and the blowjob lacked any of the subtleties that Shelly
or the others that he had been with the last few days had learned over time.
  Like the cunnlingus that she had received from her pet, the blowjob that
Heather gave him was a brute force affair.  Still, deep throat from an
eighteen year old is still something to write home about (but not to mom),
and Alan felt the strain of an enpending ejactculation from just the
pressure of her throat against his penis.

As he started, Heather pulled away from him.  His orgasm shot against her
breast and stomach in three great blasts.  Heather than went back to Misty
who began to lick away his cum.  The last of his semen flowed in another two
pulses out of the pisshole and down his shaft.  He felt his hand lower
itself and scrap the liquid away.  Then, it was carried to his mouth where
he tasted it and cringed at the familar, yet differant, taste.

"See, Alan."  Shelly turns to watch Heather slowly dress.  "I didn't even
have to make her give you head.  She knew that I would make her do it, so
she did it.  You wouldn't have touched your cum unless I had made you."

"By the time she is done getting dressed, this will be gone from her memory,
for good."  Shelly got up and started to walk away.  After a few steps, she
stopped.  She turned her head back to Alan and added,
"Heather knows you are watching her.  After Misty is tired, she will come
over to 'ask you for a light.'  I would suggest that you do talk to her.
She is a very nice girl."

Shelly then walked away.
_________________________________________________________________
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