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Subject: {ASSM} The Last Fling: Sweet Diversion {Varkel} (MF MF oral anal)
Date: Fri, 13 Jul 2001 21:10:02 -0400
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The Last Fling



an April-December Adventure

Presented as a Series of Episodes
by Varkel

Copyright (c) Varangian and Kellis, July, 2001





Episode 1:   Sweet Diversion



"I'd rather go with a whore," proclaimed Jack, the larger and
more cynical man -- "realistic," he would have said -- setting
his empty glass upon the table firmly for emphasis.  Aside from
Jack's height and Lou's paunch, the two men were a pair, both
retired in their late sixties, both dressed in striped shorts,
white T-shirts and canvas loafers, both having retained enough
gray hair to comb, both blue-eyed.  They were sitting in thickly
cushioned plastic chairs around a glass-topped table on the rear
veranda of their shared beach house, located on A1A well north of
Fort Lauderdale.  The house faced west, so they sat in deep
shade, cooled by a vigorous afternoon sea breeze wafting over the
single row of low dunes between them and the crashing surf of the
Atlantic Ocean.  Birdsong, cricket chirp and the rustling of palm
leaves added to the background.

"Have you ever really gone with a whore?" Lou, the smaller,
asked, cocking an eyebrow in evident disdain.

Jack snorted.  "Yeah, sure, when I was a kid.  And I'd do it
again rather than chase after a fat, wrinkled creature like Kathy
Saunders.  My god, Lou, what would you do if you caught her?
Whacking off would be more dignified."

Lou got creakily to his feet, favoring an arthritic knee, and
adjusted the shorts under his generous paunch.  He looked down at
his friend in redirected disdain.  "I _have_ caught her once or
twice.  Sometimes I can persuade her, but she's scornful of sex,
perhaps more than you.  She thinks it's unseemly for people our
age."

"Well, at least you don't have to look at her naked.  God!  What
an ugly sight that must be!  I saw her on the beach once in a
swimsuit.  The crabs scurried for cover!"

"Talk about misplaced irony!  Have you looked in the mirror
lately?  And for your information, crabs run from everybody."
Lou sighed.  "She's far better than a fist, Jack, to put it in
your words.  But she's also good company and a fine cook.  And I
believe she likes me."

The larger man stood up as well.  Though a head taller, he and
Lou were about the same weight because of the shorter man's
greater girth.  He shrugged.  "Enjoy her, friend, if you can.  As
for me, I don't need a cloying woman who'll indulge a guy with a
little fun only to get something out of him.  I want one at least
who gives head."

"Ha!  You think your cock is so pretty, Jack?  Why would any
woman want to touch it, much less suck on it?"

Jack looked wistfully toward the sea.  "There was a time when
girls thought I possessed a national treasure."

"That was fifty years ago, Pal.  We all had better luck then.
Let's get another drink."

But Jack's eyes were still focused on the distance.  "A girl once
told me she'd rather suck my dick than a lollipop."

Lou sniffed.  "Yeah, in World War Two when lollipops were made
with saccharine."

"They what?"  Jack chuckled in appreciation and followed his
grinning friend into the house.  His voice drifted back out onto
the porch.  "To tell you the truth, I think she said it to stop
me from juicing up her cunt."

Lou's voice followed.  "Before the pill, was it?"  Further
conversation was drowned in the roar of the refrigerator's ice
crusher.

Two girls, at that moment approaching from the north along a path
at the base of the dune, heard the grinding sound and paused to
stare at the house, though not for that reason.  They were
barefoot, clad only in ragged and very short shorts plus bikini
tops.  They radiated youth if not exactly beauty.  The blonde,
slightly taller, was more fully developed with generous thighs
and jiggly breasts whose sides bulged from the bikini straps.
Her long hair was fetchingly windblown.  The dark-eyed brunette
was shorter and waifish though fine-boned instead of skinny.  Her
hair was restrained in a ponytail.  Her bikini top conformed to
the shape of young, conical breasts with sharp nipples.  They
appeared to be in the mid teens but in fact had been legally
adult for several months.  They walked cautiously toward the
house.

The small brunette asked aggrievedly in her whiney voice, "Is
this really the place?"  She looked around indecisively at other
houses that could be glimpsed intermittently through the palms,
ixora and blooming oleander that dotted the estates.

"You know it is," the blonde retorted.

"Then where'd they go?" the brunette whined.  "They was here five
minutes ago."

The blonde's lip curled.  "Don't be duh.  You heard the noise.
They's in the house.  Come on."

She crossed the lush grass and stepped up onto the veranda, the
brunette following less boldly, and called, "Hello!"

They heard a man's voice inside the house.  "Was that someone at
the back?"

In a moment Jack appeared behind the screen door.  He ogled the
girls, preferring the slighter brunette, and announced gruffly,
"We're not in the market for subscriptions."  His expression
lightened and he added quickly, "Though we'd love to hear your
sales pitch."

"We ain't selling nothing, mister," the buxom blonde explained
with a provocative wiggle.

Jack grinned invitingly.  "Perhaps you'd like to get out of the
sun for a minute?"

"Who are these girls, Jack?" Lou inquired, appearing beside his
friend and peering past him to verify that only two were present.

"They're escaping the heat," Jack answered.  To the girls he
asked cheerfully, "Do you want something to drink?"

"Oh, wow!" the brunette squealed appreciatively.

"We surely would," contributed the blonde.  "We been walking down
the beach but ain't seen no fruit stand in I don't know how
long."

Though appalled at her fulsome use of the local patois, Jack very
much approved of her bright freshness.  Aside from one zit on her
forehead just below the hairline, her skin was a well-tanned
version of the classic "peaches and cream."  The flesh bulging
around her bikini straps was like a heavy weight pulling his eyes
lower.  He manfully resisted it.

Lou declared apologetically, "I'm afraid we don't have any soft
drinks."

"Anita and I can split a beer," the blonde suggested.  "It won't
hurt us."

Lou cleared his throat to demur, but Jack cut him off.  "Sure.  A
glass of weak American beer never hurt anyone.  I'll get the
drinks."

Jack disappeared.  Lou pushed the screen open and came out
between the girls to stare from one to the other, especially at
the smoothly rounded flesh of their thighs.  His mouth watered.
Anita and her friend, understanding his inspection, shuffled from
one foot to the other, in the process exposing additional parts
of hips and arms and the curving outlines of poorly concealed
breasts -- perhaps unconsciously.

"I'm Betsy," the blonde announced.

"I'm Anita," said the brunette redundantly.

Forgetting 50 years of mannerly behavior, Lou could only lick his
lips.  At this range he could smell the fragrance of cheap
cologne underlain by a hint of frying bacon.

At that moment Jack appeared, bearing a tray of bottles and
glasses.  He elbowed the screen open and emerged onto the
veranda, grinning hugely.  "I'm Jack and this handsome guy is
Lou.  Pull up a couple more seats, ladies."

Instead of acknowledging the introduction, the girls busied
themselves with dragging two plastic chairs from the other end of
the veranda.  All four sat down around the glass-topped table,
the girls adjacent.  Jack apportioned the drinks.  He and Lou had
whiskey and soda.

"To a hot day and hotter women," Jack toasted, raising his glass.
Lou cringed at the boorish sentiment.

But the girls only giggled.  After raising their glasses in
response to Jack, they sipped the beer with confidence.  Brunette
Anita lowered her eyes demurely as if counting the bubbles in her
glass, but blonde Betsy returned the men's frank stares with a
twinkle.

"Lots of hot women drop by, do they?" she asked with a smirk.

Jack's enthusiasm faded.  "No, they don't," he admitted, sighing.
"Nor cold ones, either."

"We ain't cold," Betsy declared positively.  Both girls grinned
at Jack.

"Maybe not," Lou interjected with a frown, "but you're not
exactly women yet, either.  I have granddaughters your age."

"We're old enough, Lou," Betsy rejoined, thrusting her ample
chest forward slightly.  "How old's a girl got to be?"

"You two are ripe enough to turn a man's head," Jack objected.
"What has age to do with anything?  You're a delight to look at.
You freshen the air."

"Oh, wow!" Anita exclaimed, eyes alight.  "Why can't Bucky talk
thataway?"

"Bucky is your boyfriend?" Jack asked after taking a breath.
Anita's elfin face, smiling upon him for the first time, plucked
his heartstrings, while her pointy nipples targeted lower.

"He's my jerk-friend," the slim girl replied disdainfully, then
giggled at herself for coining the description.

Jack was impelled to protest.  "How could any man, however young,
not appreciate such loveliness?  What's the world coming to?"  He
ogled the modest breasts as he gushed.

"Lou, your friend really talks nice," Betsy commented as she
leaned toward him, touching his wrist.  Her breasts rested on the
table top.  With the strain removed, the cups and straps of her
bikini sagged open, exposing the upper edges of pink young
nipples to the eyes across the table.  She gazed into Lou's face
and added, "You're the quiet one."

"I'm more realistic than Jack," he said, staring from nipples to
hand.  "But I must admit, you do induce fantasies."

"He's just more cautious," Jack countered, adding with a chuckle,
"at the start of an investment."

Betsy squeezed Lou's wrist.  "I'm glad you like us.  We don't
mind you looking at all."

Jack's eyes threatened to pop from his head.  "What a wonderful
golden tan you both have!  And it's so even!"

Both girls giggled.  Betsy glanced down at her chest.  "You mean
because we don't have strap lines?"

"Nor bra lines," Jack pointed out.

"We don't always wear the tops," Betsy explained, eyes twinkling.
Anita giggled.

"I can tell that!" Jack retorted fervently.

Raising his eyes with difficulty, Lou asked, "Don't you get
annoyed when an old codger ogles you?"

Betsy shrugged.  "Why should that worry me?  Not many guys can
talk nice like Jack.  Their eyes have to do it.  I take it as a
compliment.  So does Anita.  And we both got spry uncles.  We
think old men are nice."

"Spry _uncles_, huh?  They have to be younger than Jack and me.
Do you tease them too?"

"We like to be friendly, Lou," she said with a sincere smile,
"but we ain't teasers.  If that's what you think, maybe we just
ought to mosey on."

"No, no, don't go!" Jack interrupted.  "I for one love to be
teased by pretty girls.  I can imagine being young again."

"I'll tease you, Jack," Anita joined in with a grin, "if you'll
show me how."

"Hah!" Lou interjected.  "You're doing a very good job of it,
little one, just sitting there and smiling at us.  But I don't
mind either.  All Jack and I had to look forward to this evening
was cribbage and more drinks."

"That sucks," Betsy scoffed.  "Why don't we do a picnic on the
beach?  The sun'll go down soon."

"A picnic with you two lovelies?"  Jack clapped his hands in
delight.  "What could be better, eh, Lou?"  He leered at Anita.
"I'll show you the best way to tease a man.  Come on, Lou.  We
have all the stuff we need, even some shrimp."

Lou turned a cautionary sidelong glance on his friend but nodded
after a moment's thought.  He stood up.  "Come in the house,
girls, while we get everything ready."



* * *



"Christ, Jack!  What are we doing?  They're just kids."

Lou and his friend packed a large picnic basket while the girls
refreshed themselves in the nearby bathroom.

Jack glanced at the closed door.  "If you think we're going to
_do_ anything, Lou, you're living in a fantasy world.  This is
just a sweet diversion for a couple of old farts.  We'll get to
feast our eyes on them, maybe even sit close enough to smell
their youth."

"I _did_ smell it," Lou remarked, taking a breath and pausing in
reminiscence.  "My wife used to smell the same way when she
exercised.  A woman's natural odor makes me hungry."

"Oh, yeah," Jack agreed fervently, "and that ain't all!"

"But what are they up to?  Have you thought about that?  They
can't really be interested in us."

"Don't sell yourself short, Lou.  We still have some charm left,
if not much else."

"Charm that would appeal to a teenager?"

"You think they're teenagers?"

"They can hardly be anything else!"  Lou shook his head.  "You do
remember hearing about the age of consent, don't you?"

"The what?  Good lord, Lou, you can't be serious!"

"Maybe not," Lou conceded with a slight smile, "but a man can
dream, can't he?"

The girls emerged into the kitchen as he spoke.  Now they smelled
of soap.  Lipstick had been applied, not so garishly as Lou would
have expected.  Betsy had drawn her hair into a ponytail like the
brunette's.  As they approached with the vigor of youth, Betsy
asked with a grin, "What does a man dream of?"

Anita had advanced within inches of Jack, smiling up into his
eyes.  He took a deep breath and answered Betsy's question.
"Sweethearts like you two, when he's lucky."

"What if he ain't lucky?" Anita asked.

Lou answered wryly, "Then he dreams he's too old for sweethearts
like you."

Betsy fixed him with limpid eyes.  "You ain't dreaming now, Lou."

He licked his lips, returning her gaze.

"Looks like we about ready," noted Anita, tucking in a corner of
the basket cover.

Betsy added, "Anita and me'll carry this."

The men were left with only the folded blankets.  Shrugging,
secretly glad for young backs to bear the heavy load, they
followed the girls onto the veranda, letting the screen door
slam, and across the grassy lawn.  At the base of the dune, the
two girls scampered ahead, leaving the old men to trudge up the
dune more slowly.

"This is work!" Lou grumbled, laboriously planting one foot ahead
of the other.

"A worthwhile effort, friend.  Just look at those sweet young
legs!"

"We're fooling ourselves, Jack.  We can expect nothing but
frustration."

"There you go again!  Be realistic!  You can only be frustrated
if you count on more than you get.  I anticipate nothing beyond a
pleasant outing with two lovely girls."

"Come on, guys," Anita called from the top of the dune.  "We got
the whole beach to ourselves."

Indeed, when the men reached the top, the only persons in sight
were a few also picnicking at the distant public access point.
The seaward horizon was clear of shipping.  Thankfully the
in-shore wind maintained its strength, keeping the flies at bay.
Betsy and Anita busied themselves below, spreading the basket
cover on the sand perhaps a hundred yards from the line of surf.
They cast long shadows.

"I prefer Anita, if you don't mind," Jack remarked quietly.

"Huh!  Why should we pair off, if nothing is going to happen?"

"Just in case.  Those girls strike me as being kind of wild, and
they're certainly not innocent."

"Now who's fantasizing?"  Lou started down the hill cautiously
like an old man, with Jack only a step behind.

"Ooo, this looks good!" Betsy exclaimed, one hand in the basket,
smiling cheerfully as Lou opened his blanket beside them.

"We have all sorts of good things, sweetheart," Jack announced
while spreading his own blanket somewhat removed from Lou's.
"Let's drink the wine while it's still cool."

He uncorked two bottles of Chardonnay then brought out four
crystal goblets of differing hues.

"That's the Baccarat!" Lou protested aloud.  "We could have
gotten by with water glasses."

"This is a special occasion, Lou, don't you think?  Nothing but
the best for our new friends."

"Shrimp and chicken!" Anita squealed delightedly when Betsy
opened some plastic containers.

They settled down to eat in the gathering dusk.  Lights came on
farther up the beach but were invisible beyond the dune.  Enough
light remained to permit identifying the food by its containers.
The girls consumed the wine even faster than the men.  "This
tastes _so_ good!" Anita avowed.

Jack asked around a mouthful of shrimp, "Do your boyfriends feed
you this well?"

"No, they surely don't," she replied with a sneer.

Lou complained, "God, Jack, don't remind them of their
boyfriends."

Jack snickered.  "I figured it was dark enough to be safe."

"Don't worry about that," asserted Betsy, shifting close enough
to Lou for their knees to touch.  "We like you guys just fine.
And we just love what you feed us."

"Do you like it, too?" Jack asked Anita.

"Oh, wow, Jack," she murmured, pressing her shoulder against his
arm.

He dipped a succulent piece of shrimp in cocktail sauce and
pressed it to her lips, which parted for it readily.  Her tongue
slipped out and licked the residual sauce off his fingertip.  Her
eyes sparkled in the light of the quarter moon, now the brightest
thing in the sky.

"You delectable sweetheart!" he whispered, nuzzling her cheek
with his.  Her fingers stroked the opposite side of his face.

"You two live alone," Betsy said matter-of-factly.  Now her
thighs contacted Lou's firmly.

Though it was not a question, Lou nodded, grinning awkwardly with
his mouth full of chicken.

"I mean, you know ..."  She smirked suggestively.

Lou almost choked.  After a quick swallow he called, "Jack!  She
wants to know if we're queer!"  He burst into laughter.

Jack turned away from Anita and roared aloud.  "Can you imagine
that!  What an ugly sight that would be, snuggling together naked
in bed with me on top."

"With you on top!  Do you have a secret dream, Jack?  Should I
lock my door at night from now on?"

The girls laughed politely to accompany the men's uproarious
guffaws.

Lou quieted somewhat.  "I don't know how guys can do it with each
other, Betsy.  The male body is not at all pretty to me, except
maybe for young boys.  But I can imagine girls doing it.  You and
Anita together would be a beautiful sight."

"I ain't no lezzy," Betsy affirmed stiffly.

"You're with another girl," Lou pointed out, secretly teasing.

Betsy's eyes flashed.  "What you trying to say?"

"Just checking."  He grinned in the moonlight.  "As you were."

"Oh."  She sniffed.  A moment later she chuckled.  "Ain't never
tried it."

Jack asked with interest, "What about you, Anita.  Have you ever
tried it?"

Anita returned the large man's steady gaze but said nothing.

"I think she has, Jack," Lou spoke up.  "She has a certain look
in her eyes."

Betsy rose to her knees and commanded, "Leave her alone.  She
ain't one neither."

Anita did not move.  She smiled at Lou and then at Jack.  "I only
did it once."  Her quiet voice was faintly slurred.

"Anita!" Betsy protested.  But she sagged back to her seat beside
Lou.

Jack reached into the basket and retrieved an oval bottle.  One
hand dropped to the girl's knee while the other turned up the
bottle for a taste.  "Have some," he said, extending the bottle
to the girl.

"What is it?"

"Crown Royal.  If it's too strong, you can chase it with the
wine."

"It's not too strong," she declared confidently, turning the
bottle up.  Apparently it wasn't.  She neither coughed nor
sputtered, though the liquid had gurgled.

"Just once with another girl?" Jack asked, returning to the
subject.  "But it's such an innocent pleasure between girls, both
giving and receiving."

"I just _received_," Anita responded huskily, gazing at the hand
that wandered lightly up and down her lower thigh.

"I never even did _that_," the larger girl averred.  She took the
bottle from Anita.  Again it gurgled, glittering in the faint
light.

Lou was incredulous.  "You mean your boy friends don't go down on
you?"

"We only got two boy friends," Anita explained, "and they think
it's nasty."

"That's typical of young guys," Jack said with a sneer.  He
grinned around at Betsy.  "You don't know what you're missing --
and neither do they."

He now had his arm around the smaller girl, one hand rested high
up on her slender thigh.  She did not protest.  Lou took a swig
of the whiskey.

"We're old men, sweetheart, not much to look at."  Jack cooed at
Anita, whose eyes held a twinkle.  "But Lou and I both love
tasting girls, and we're very good at it.  It's one of the
benefits of long experience."

"You could just lie back with your eyes closed and enjoy," Lou
suggested to Betsy.  Despite himself his voice betrayed a rising
anticipation.

Betsy was hesitant.  "It ain't ... _wrong_ when a man does it?"

"Of course not," Lou assured her.  "Anything a man and a woman do
together isn't wrong -- unless it hurts.  But believe me, it
won't hurt!"

Betsy took another slug from the bottle and smacked her lips.
She said in Lou's ear.  "I did the other."

Anita sat limply, offering no objection to Jack's hand inside her
bikini top.  She raised her arms to permit the garment to pass
over her head.  His hands closed reverently around the slender,
conical breasts.  "Ooo!" she breathed as he gently pinched the
nipples.  Her lips formed a crooked smile, and she lay back onto
the blanket with her eyes closed.  She was immediately divested
of shorts and panties.

"What do you mean, 'the other?'" Lou asked Betsy with intent
interest.

But the blonde turned her back to him.  "Can you unhook me?  It
don't pop over my boobs easy as 'Nita's."

In the dim light Lou found the task daunting.  A bikini top
clearly did not hook in the manner of a brassiere.  Catching the
two back straps of a brassiere and pulling them tightly together
would usually undo their metal hooks and eyes, but this thing had
no hooks that he could feel and --  Then his hand slipped and
quite by accident lifted the cloth loop out from around its long
plastic hook.

"What's the matter, Lou?" Betsy asked impatiently.  "Don't you
know about bikinis?"

"Maybe I'm not too old to learn," he retorted as the cloth fell
opened.  His hands slipped immediately past the material to cup
and squeeze the bounteous breasts.  The nipples hardened in his
palm.  She giggled and raised up enough to slip off her shorts
and panties.

"What did you mean, you did the other?" he whispered in her ear.

But she turned again within his arms and arched her back.  "I do
love to feel a mouth."

The invitation was obvious.  Lou's head dropped.  His lips
enclosed an entire nipple.

"Tha'sh what I meant by 'the other,'" Betsy purred.  "Men love to
feel a mouth, too, don't they?"

Lou could only nod vigorously.  With his head out of the way she
glanced around.  "What you doing?" she demanded of Jack, now
kneeling between the smaller girl's legs.

Jack, struggling with shorts whose fly had somehow caught a
shirttail, answered bitterly, "I'm going to eat her out if I ever
get this goddamn zipper free!"

If his mouth were not completely full, Lou would have reminded
his friend that he didn't need his pants down to lick.

"But _I_ want to do it!"  Betsy exclaimed drunkenly.  "She'sh
_my_ friend."

In the full dark the larger girl freed herself from Lou's embrace
and struggled to her feet.  As luck would have it, Jack ripped
out the shirttail and brought forth a rigid penis of dramatic
proportion just in time for her to push him aside.  She lurched
facedown between Anita's legs, whose knees jerked high in
response.

"Christ, Jack!" Lou exclaimed excitedly, drawing near and
stepping out of his own shorts.  "What're they doing?"

"Damn it!" Jack protested, regaining his feet, "It's what _I_
meant to do!"

A detailed inspection of the intent couple below them was
impossible in the dim moonlight, but slurping noises told the
tale well enough.

Jack groused, "Betsy never did it before.  Sure, she didn't!"

"I guess girls know how to do it instinctively," mused Lou,
licking his lips as Anita began a soprano moan.

Betsy's bare buttocks were raised invitingly.  Jack gestured.
"There's your chance, pal."

Lou's eyes widened.  "My chance?"

"If you don't put it in her, I will."

Lou immediately knelt behind the bobbing butt and took hold of
the girl's hips, pointing his fat organ to the slit between the
labia, visible even in this light.  He pushed into her with a
single long thrust.

"Awk!" Betsy gasped.  She raised up quickly to identify her
invader but immediately returned to the clitoris of her friend,
who must have been on the verge.  Shortly Anita cried out in
obvious orgasm, followed sternly by, "_Stop_ that!"

Betsy turned her head away but remained dutifully on her knees as
Lou banged away, eliciting moans and finally a series of squeaks.

"What they doing?" Anita demanded redundantly, having risen on
her elbows to look up the incline of Betsy's back.

"They're fucking, little one.  You're next."  Jack's voice
trembled with impatience.

"I wanta fuck too!" she declared.

"Then come on."  He grasped her arms and helped extricate her
legs from entanglement with Betsy's arms.  They scampered to the
other blanket.  "Ooo, Jack!" she cried as her flesh expanded
around his "national treasure."  Betsy had left her fully
aroused.  Anita's arms and legs wrapped the old man tightly and
her nails dug his back.  Her mouth sought his with probing tongue
and her soprano moans reemerged from flaring nostrils.

"Oh, Jesus!  Oh, Jesus!" Lou cried out loudly behind them but by
then Jack was oblivious.

Lou, gasping for breath, lay folded over Betsy, whose still
upturned buttocks supported him easily while maintaining a slight
rocking motion.  He listened to the grunting and moaning of the
fucking couple beside him.

"I can't believe it!" he exclaimed in wonder at his achievement.
Old habits asserted themselves.  "You're a good lover, Betsy," he
whispered to the larger girl, who was not entirely alert.  He
relished two hands full of tit as the noises across the picnic
basket built to crescendo.  His organ speedily deflated
nevertheless.  Betsy came to herself when it flopped out.  She
sagged forward onto her belly and rolled sideways, dismounting
him.

"Wh-what ..."  Her mouth worked.  She rolled up on an elbow.  Her
eyes glittered.  "What time ish it?"

"It's not so late," Jack answered.

"It's been dark too long.  We got to go."  Betsy rose to her
knees.  "Anita, we got to go!"

The smaller girl had just emitted a final squeak.  "Already?" she
whined.

"Yeah, right now.  Get your clothes."

"I don't want to.  Oh, wow, Jack, you are _so_ nice!"

Betsy shook her head.  "'M drunk, damn it."  She raised her voice
menacingly, "You know wha'sh gonna happen if you don't come on."

"Nothing will happen," Jack declared, "except we'll all go back
to the house and have a giggle."

Unexpectedly his words galvanized the smaller girl.  She joined
Betsy unsteadily on her feet and fumbled about for cast-off
garments.  Jack and Lou remained on the blankets, the latter
wheezing from the recent exertion.

Betsy's slurred voice announced, "We're leaving, guysh."

"'Bye, sweet Jack" Anita called from a few yards away.

They were gone, lost in the darkness before either man could
think of a word to say.  Waves crashed, seemingly just behind
them.

Jack struggled to his feet as if to follow.  "What's their rush?
Which way did they go?"

"Must've gone down the beach," Lou responded, feeling the alcohol
somewhat himself.  "I didn't see them between us and the lights
up at the public access."

"Shit!" Jack exclaimed in disgust.  He cupped his hands around
his mouth and raised his voice to a shout.  "Anita!  Betsy!  Come
back a minute!"

They listened but heard nothing above the thud and splash of the
surf.

Lou's voice was reverent.  "Christ, Jack, how did we manage
that?"

"We really fell into it, didn't we?" the other replied with a
smile in his voice.  "God, they were fresh!  I'd forgotten how
sweet really young pussy is."

"Tight, you mean."

"That, too.  Oh, I get it.  Betsy was pretty dry, was she?"

"No, not a bit.  Eating out Anita must have turned her on, too.
But she sure had a set of sphincters!"

"Damn it, I hope they come back soon.  Betsy did me out of a
meal."

Lou laughed.  "Yeah, low calorie, too!  Help me gather up the
stuff."  He hesitated.  "Do you think they had a disease?"

"Let's piss right away," Jack answered, turning downwind.  "That
might help if they did."



* * *



Just inside the dark kitchen Lou stumbled over something
unexpected on the floor and fell headlong with a series of thumps
on the padded linoleum.  Jack, waiting with the picnic basket in
his arms, demanded in concern, "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," muttered Lou.  "Just banged my knees.  We should've left
a light on.  You're still at the door.  Reach in and flip the
switch."

Jack obeyed.  The bright overhead bulb flooded the room with
light.

"How'd that get down there?" Lou demanded, looking behind himself
at his heirloom breadbox, now broken on the floor.

Jack glanced around.  "Hey!  Where's the microwave ... and the
toaster?"

Lou jumped to his feet.  "You don't suppose ..."  Suddenly he
dashed out of the room.  Jack dropped the picnic basket and sandy
blankets atop the ruins of the breadbox and followed.

Everything electrical that was light enough to carry and not
screwed down proved missing, from the big screen TV to Jack's
stereo to both men's computers to the cordless telephone and even
Lou's no-longer-used alarm clock.  Drawers stood open in the
bedrooms, contents in disarray.  The pistol Jack kept in his
nightstand was missing but curiously not the spare clips of
ammunition.  All pictures hung askew in bedrooms and den, but the
thieves had not found their cash safe, hidden behind the bathroom
mirror.  Their cars were still in the garage, perhaps because the
spare keys were in the safe and the regular ones in their
pockets.

"Damn it to hell!" roared Jack.  "I'd call the cops if the sons
of bitches had left us a telephone."

"Maybe that's just as well," Lou demurred thoughtfully.

"What the hell do you mean?"

"These guys took their time and did a thorough job.  What would
we say we were doing while the robbery was in progress?"

"I don't know -- saw a couple movies?"

"And if they ask about the plot or the stubs?"

"Yeah," Jack agreed with a sigh.  Neither had attended a movie in
the past year.  Except for restaurant visits, strolls on the
beach or trips out-of-town to see offspring, neither had left the
house for more than a few minutes -- until today.

"They must've been watching for us to leave," Lou mused.  "Have
you noticed any cars parked near our drive?"

Jack shook his head.  "Both of us are never gone that long
together.  They had to have watched us for a damn long ..."  His
voice ran down.  "Unless ..."

Lou's face was stricken.  "Unless somebody enticed us out of the
house?  I can't believe that!"

"Some bo_dies_!" declared Jack with a snarl.  "And it's not that
you _can't_ believe it.  You just don't _want_ to believe it!"
He whirled toward the garage.  "If I can't _call_ the cops, I'll
tell them in person."

"Wait a minute, Jack!"

"For what?

"Did either girl tell you how old she was?"

That brought the tall man up short.  He turned around at the door
to regard his friend.  "They ... they've got to be more than 16."

"Do they?"  Lou licked his lips.  "You know how street-wise kids
get nowadays from watching TV.  What if one of them is 15, Jack?"

The other's eyes grew haunted.  "You're thinking that it has to
be Anita, right?  When my middle daughter was 15, she had tits as
big as Betsy's.  Huh!  Did you notice Betsy's zit?"

"Yeah."  Lou grinned sadly.  "I kept wanting to pop it for her.
Wish I had."

Jack took a deep breath and softly closed the garage door.  "God,
I hate for them to get away with it.  What do you think of
private detectives?"

"That might produce results," Lou agreed sagely.  He grunted.
"What would we do with them if a detective collared them?  It
wouldn't get our stuff back."

Jack answered dryly, "I can think of one or two things to do to
the girls."

"Yeah, me, too."  Lou grinned suddenly.  "What are we out, at
most a few grand?  What was that you told me about preferring
whores?  Wouldn't you pay a thou for a girl fresh and willing as
Anita?"

Jack chuckled slowly.  "I'd sure as hell consider it.  Wonder how
much of the take the girls will get."

"Damn little, probably."

Jack thought about it some more.  "Maybe we ought to hire
detectives just to find our girlfriends."

"And then what?" asked Lou.

"Then we fuck their brains out."

"Think that would teach them anything?"

"Well, what do _you_ want to do to them?"

Lou smiled distantly.  "Put braces on their teeth and _then_ fuck
their brains out."

Jack's eyebrows rose.  "Treat them like granddaughters, eh?"  He
laughed.  "The way you'd _like_ to treat granddaughters, you old
incestor, you!"

Lou shook himself.  "Forget it.  Get your pad and let's take an
inventory.  We'll have to replace most of this junk, you know.
And while we're at it, we need a good burglar alarm system."



* * *



"Jack!  Over there!  Isn't that Betsy?"

Jack turned from the display window of a Radio Shack.  "Where?"
he demanded raptly.

"Sitting on the bench near the fountain.  Don't you see her?  I'm
certain that's our beach pal."

Jack squinted and moved his head about to see through the crowd
at the mall.  "Yeah.  I think you're right:  our four thousand
dollar fuck."

"Only two grand for her, Jack.  Anita accounts for the rest of
it."

"Whatever.  Expensive pussy, however you reckon it.  What's she
doing there?  Trolling for stupid, old farts?"

"I doubt it, not in jeans and T-shirt.  But if she was, I bet we
could get her a lot cheaper for a second go-around, you know, now
that it's clear what she is."

"I don't know, Lou.  Whore or not, she's still jail bait."

"Well, let's talk to her at least.  I'd like to hear her fancy
tale about what happened."

"You know she'll deny everything, and nothing connects her with
the burglary.  It's best just to forget about her and Anita,
chalk it up to experience."

"But Jack!  That young pussy is available.  I'm confident of it!"

"You're probably right, Lou, but shee-it, two that age are
nothing but trouble."

"We don't really know they're underage."

Jack laughed at his friend.  "Your argument has changed a little
since the other day."

Lou grinned ruefully.  "Yeah, I admit it.  I've been thinking
about them now for four days -- and three nights!"

Jack shrugged.  "You'd do better to forget them, pal.  Why don't
you give Kathy Saunders a call?"

"_Now_ who's changing his argument?  I'm thinking that our beach
girls are young, fresh and sleek, Jack.  Have you forgot how
yours felt in your arms?  Do you think we'll ever have a better
chance to fuck teenage pussy -- I mean, doing it right?  You
know, naked on the bed, no hurry.  Hell, we could trade off."

At that moment two strange girls, perhaps fourteen years old,
pushed giggling through the mall's packed concourse and jostled
the old men.

"Speaking of sweet stuff, Jack!  Imagine what a rush it would be
to have something like that in our beds tonight!"

"Okay, okay, you've got my interest.  But I won't give our two
whores more than a hundred each."

"I'd go higher, Jack, if we get to money talk.  Maybe Betsy's
alone tonight.  We could share her, perhaps."

"No, look.  There's Anita.  She's just coming up to the fountain.
You're right, Lou.  I'd like to take my time fucking that one
again."

They pushed in unison into the after-supper throng, weaving their
way toward the fountain.  Lou followed close behind Jack, whose
height enabled him to keep the girls mostly in view.

Betsy remained seated while Anita stood before her, talking with
animation.  The girls occupied a small hollow formed by the
curving bench, a space out of the hurrying crowd.  When the men
suddenly emerged almost within arms' reach, Betsy jumped to her
feet while Anita spun and cringed against her.  But they could
flee only through the fountain water.  If younger they might have
splashed into it, but they had learned the wisdom of not
attracting attention.

"Let me handle this," said blonde Betsy to the brunette, whose
pixie face was contorted by fear.

"I'm sorry," Anita whimpered softly, almost unheard, slipping
behind her larger friend.  At this range Jack saw that she had
sustained a black eye long enough in the past for the orbit to
assume a greenish cast, unconcealed by any makeup.

"What you want?" Betsy demanded, raising her chin boldly,
defiantly.  Her zit was gone but both her cheekbones were
greenish and she had a small band-aid on her chin.

Stopping in confrontation distance of the blonde and thrusting
his own chin forward, Jack sneered, "What do you think?  What
happened to our stuff?"

"We don't know what happened to it," Betsy asserted.

Jack added bitterly, "I suppose you don't know anything about it
being stolen, either!"

"I didn't say that."  She took a deep breath.  "You gonna call
the cops?"

"No, we aren't," Lou declared, pushing forward.

The girl looked surprised.  "You ain't?"

"Not if you tell us the truth," said Jack sternly.  "Do you admit
playing decoy?"

"Decoy?"

"Luring us away so your boyfriends could loot our house."

"Oh, wow!" murmured Anita.  It was not an exclamation of
pleasure.  She turned her face away behind the blonde's shoulder.

Betsy took a deep breath.  "Yeah.  We don't owe them bastards
anything now, so I guess we did that."  Her mouth worked.  She
added in a lower voice, "And we is surely sorry all around!"  Her
defiance melted and her posture slumped in the manner of Anita's.

Jack's severity was melting fast.  He put a hand on her shoulder
and opened his mouth to comfort her but was pre-empted by a man
in green uniform topped by an officer's brimmed cap labeled
_Kingsley Mall Police_, who stopped adjacent to the little group.
"Excuse me, ladies," he said.  "Are these men bothering you?"
Jack's hand fell away.

"No, sir," Betsy answered, clearing her throat.  "We just
talking."

The man in green turned his attention to Jack and Lou.  "Then let
me advise you gentlemen that these young ladies are under
surveillance for shoplifting."

"_What_?"  Jack stared at the man incredulously.  "How long have
you been a mall cop, about a week?  Do you know the penalty for
libel?"

The uniformed man sneered, "The blonde has tagged makeup in her
purse right now.  She took it from one of the esplanade booths,
so we can't arrest her until she tries to remove it from the
mall."

Jack's tone became condescending.  "Officer, you have made a
serious mistake in regard to her intentions.  This lovely young
lady has no need to steal anything.  Show me the makeup, Betsy."

"But-but --"

"You heard him: he can't arrest you."

With a bemused air the girl took two compacts from her purse and
gave them to Jack.  Small price tags were indeed stuck to their
bottoms.

"Is this all?" Jack asked.

"Yeah."

"The total here is eight dollars, and --"

Betsy interrupted.  "They were on sale for half price."

"Four dollars."  Jack opened his wallet, took out a five and gave
it to the policeman.  "Here you are, officer, including tax.  You
may keep the change as a reward for doing your duty."  He
extended his arm to Betsy.  "Now come along, ladies, or we'll be
late."

They linked hands and departed, the two girls between the men.
The wide-eyed policemen watched them go but did not interfere.
When they were well out of his sight, the girls hung back.  "Wait
a minute!" demanded Betsy.  "We can't go with you."

"Can't you?" asked Jack.  He looked over the heads of the people
around him.  "Shall I wave for the cop to come back?"

Both feminine faces blanched.  "Come on," Jack said dryly,
tugging the girls forward.

Outside, despite the evening dusk, the air still sweltered.

"Where we going?" demanded Betsy as they hurried through the
parked cars in the lot.

"To our place," Lou answered.

"You ain't gonna take us to the cops?"

"That's what we _ought_ to do," Jack commented harshly.  "You
girls don't see anything at all wrong with what you did, do you?"

Betsy sniffed.  "You mean with letting you fuck us?"

Jack choked, glancing swiftly around.  A passing woman gasped,
turned up her nose and hurried away.

"We're going to take you home and feed you," Lou averred flatly.

Betsy grinned sourly at Jack.  "Then send us to Sunday School?"

"Then fuck you," Jack declared.  Lou winced.

Betsy grinned.  "We can understand _that_!"  Thereafter they
followed docilely.

Jack led them to a new Town Car.  Lou and Betsy sat in back, the
other two in front.

"It's leather!"  Anita exclaimed in a small voice full of wonder,
running her hand along the car seat.

"You like leather?" Lou asked.

She answered passionately, "I like nice things!"

Lou assured smugly, "We have lots of nice things, girls."

"And we used to have even more," Jack grumbled as he put the car
in motion.

Betsy sniffed.  "You gonna harp on that all night?"

Jack laughed harshly.  "Tell me something, Betsy.  What's your
take on that?  If it was _your_ house and _your_ stuff that got
lifted when some sweet things enticed you away, what would you
say then?"

"Oh, wow!" breathed Anita dreamily.

Jack stared incredulously.  "What does _that_ mean?"

Betsy chuckled wryly.  "It means if we was that rich, we wouldn't
miss what little was carried off."

"You mean it's okay for the poor to steal from the rich?"

Anita chimed in.  "Like Robin Hood."

Jack sneered, "Well, Lou, at least they're _free-lance_
socialists!"

"Actually those things were old and not so valuable," Lou
responded, ignoring the scowl that Jack threw over his shoulder,
"and we've already replaced most of them."

Anita was curious.  "Did you tell the cops?"

"No, we didn't."

"I get it," Betsy decided.  "Insurance paid for everything,
right?"

"Not a penny!" Jack retorted, throwing her a quick glare over his
shoulder.

The blonde's eyes widened.  "Why not?"

"If we tried to collect insurance," said Lou, shaking his head,
"they would've come after _you_."

"Oh!"  She blinked at him.  "You didn't want them coming after
us?  That's sweet, Lou."

"We missed you girls," he explained, ignoring Jack's sniff from
the front seat.

Waiting at the traffic light to the thoroughfare, Jack asked,
"What've you been up to while Lou was missing you?  I noticed
that you girls look rather beat up."

"We _are_ beat up!" Anita admitted, turning her face away.

"Did someone hurt you?"

Betsy explained, "It's just some bruises and insect bites."  Her
calm tones conveyed a semblance of dignity.

"Who beat you up?" Lou asked sympathetically.

"Our boy friends," Betsy admitted.  "We had to sleep on the beach
for the last three nights."

"On the beach!"  Lou was aghast.  "Don't you have homes?"

"We got throwed out'n them years ago."

"Thrown out?  Were you bad girls?"

"It wa'n't that."  Betsy chuckled wryly.  "Our moms ran us off
when we got boobs."

"Boobs!" exclaimed Lou.  "Why ever would she do that?"

"'Cause all the uncles started noticing us."

Jack craned his neck around and exchanged a wry glance with Lou.
Suddenly the beach outing reference to "spry uncles" took a new
dimension.

"Since then ... you mean you've been living as ..."  Lou's voice
ran down.  He found that he didn't want to say what he was
thinking.

"We have not!" Betsy declared.  "We both went to live in our
grandma's trailer.  We have the same grandma.  We had to leave
her last year when we was seventeen.  We's only two months
apart."

"You're eighteen?"  Jack suddenly smiled.  "I thought you were
fifteen, if not younger."

"I'm just small," the brunette explained timidly.

"Not too small, little one," Jack said placatingly, touching the
girl's shoulder and adding, craning his head to include Betsy,
"At least you have a place to go, then."

"Not with Granny.  They come and took her somewhere."

"Who did?"

"A nurse and a cop.  Lucky we was drinking Bucky's beer two doors
up or they'd've got us, too.  Neighbor said they asked for us.
We broke back in the trailer but a week later they come and
hauled it off."

Jack shook his head.  "So you've been staying with Bucky and
what's-his-name."

"Luke."  She sniffed.  "Guess now we don't have no place."

"Well, you don't have to stay on the beach anymore," Lou gushed
with sudden enthusiasm.  "It's not as if you and we are
strangers."

"Well, they can stay tonight," Jack amended cautiously.

Betsy eyed the two men suspiciously in the light of oncoming
cars, but Anita snuggled close to Jack, her head on his shoulder.

"It's better than the beach," the blonde admitted after a
moment's hesitation.  "And I doubt you guys could be too rough on
us."

"Rough?  Hardly that, sweetie."  Lou was ecstatic.  "We'll treat
you like queens."

"Oh, Lou!"  Betsy sighed.  "I would surely love to be treated
like a queen."  She moved closer to him.

Lou placed his hand high up on her jean-clad thigh, snuggling
close to the buxom girl.

"I stink," she whispered in warning.

He took a deep, appreciative breath.  "I wouldn't use that word.
You smell like breakfast cooking.  It's making my mouth water."

She giggled and did not protest when he palmed a breast and
kissed her lips.  She kissed back dutifully.  "I need a shower,"
she argued weakly.

"Let me wash you!"  Lou was clearly excited.  "I can hardly
wait!"

"If you want."  She was amused.  "You wash girls often?"

"Oh, no.  Not in a long, long time.  I'll do it with my tongue."

"Me too?"  Anita peered eagerly over the seat.  "I love tongues."

"Of course, little one.  When Jack is finished with you."

"We gonna trade off."  Betsy's voice was matter-of-fact.

"Do you mind?"

She shrugged.

"We'll do everything tonight," Jack commented without turning his
head.

"_Everything_?"  The blonde squirmed under Lou's probing fingers,
now having descended into her unzipped jeans.  "Might be Anita's
too small for _everything_, Jack."

"We'll find out soon enough, girls.  Here's the house."  The
large man wheeled the car deftly into the driveway.  The garage
door rose majestically when he pushed a button on the dash.
"Ooo!" murmured Anita in awe.

When they left the car, Jack fumbled with his keys at the door
between garage and den, now securely locked.  Once inside they
breathed deeply of the dry air-conditioned coolness.

When Lou embraced and kissed her fervently just inside the door,
Betsy complained, "Can't we eat something first?"

"I'm hungry," Anita whined.  "We didn't get nothing all day."

"Why not?" asked Lou in surprise.

Betsy snapped, "It's too hard to steal from the food court."

Jack's arm described a magnanimous sweep.  "There's the kitchen,
kids.  Fix what you want."  He leered.  "Only one condition:  you
have to do it naked.  Lou and I want to feast our eyes."

The blonde frowned and the little one giggled at the command, but
they lost no time shrugging out of jeans and T-shirts, letting
them crumple on the den carpet.  Lou's eyebrows rose in wonder
when both girls proved to be without underwear.

"We ought to have a shower first," Anita protested, glancing
worriedly at the men, "but I'm too hungry."

The girls hurried into the kitchen.  Jack and Lou were slow to
follow.

"Jesus, Jack!  This is like a dream!"

The tall man snorted.  "You're acting like a kid, Lou!  You know
soon as you shoot you'll want them out of the house."

"Not this time!  I tell you, these last three nights have been
rugged.  Besides, I know how to handle _post coitum tristre_.
All I have to do is take a deep breath and wait a few minutes.
Then I'll want to explore some more of that luscious, teenage
flesh."

"You feel that way _now_.  Okay, but I'd like to fuck the blonde
first, if you don't mind.  I'm in the mood for big tits."

"Sure, Jack.  We'll trade off.  I'm looking forward to having
Anita and pretending she's a lot younger than eighteen."

"Just how young do you want a girl to be, Lou?  I mean, eighteen
for us is a great achievement."

"Still, she doesn't look that old.  I can fantasize that she's
fourteen."

"Eighteen, fourteen.  It's all the same pussy."

"Of course, but her legs look really young, and you know I'm a
thigh man.  After I come off I'll spend the rest of the night
licking on her."

"Well, I'll concentrate on getting it up again and fucking some
more.  I'm going to try for three times."

"Good luck, Jack.  You might manage that over a twelve hour
period, but I hope you're smart enough to quit if that chest pain
comes back.  Let's get a drink."

The two men ambled over to the wet bar in the corner and fixed
two scotches on the rocks.  In the kitchen the naked girls sat at
the dinette table stuffing their mouths with an odd assortment of
food.

Anita wiped her mouth with her hand.  "What did Jack mean about
doing everything tonight?"

"He wants to fuck you up the ass.  But he's too big for you."

The brunette looked worried.  "Bucky did that to me once and I
almost died!"

"Yeah, but Bucky was young like us.  He'd jizz fast and then pull
out.  Mom told me old guys, like, take forever.  That old guy the
other night -- I didn't think he was _ever_ gonna jizz!  Look,
what you wanta try with an old coot is keep him limp, then he
can't get it up your ass.  Put him in your mouth."

"Huh!  That makes them stiffer."

"Not after they jizz."

"You gonna do that?"

Betsy shrugged.  "Nah.  I'll let them butt fuck me, if that's
what they want so bad.  Remember when Luke lost me shooting
craps?  If that biker crowd couldn't wear out my ass, these old
coots ain't gonna."

"But Jack is so big!"

"A couple of them bikers was, too!"  Betsy chuckled.  "Maybe I
just got a loose ass.  But listen, what our old guys really want
is to slobber all over us.  We can put up with that all night."

"Yeah, that's easy.  I might even like it."

Betsy automatically lowered her voice to a whisper, almost
unintelligible around her mouth stuffed with sandwich meat, when
she saw Jack licking his lips at them from the kitchen door.
"You got to pretend you like it when they fuck straight.  Guys
get upset if you don't."

"That's no problem, Betsy.  Jack's thing is really big.  I just
love a big cock!"

"You'll learn!  Big ones make you sore.  Lou's not hung so good,
but that's just fine with me.  Anyway, I bet they fall asleep
bang on.  Then we can grab whatever we want and leave."

"Why can't we stay a while?  It's nice here.  I don't want to
steal from them."

"Anita!  They'll throw us out tomorrow anyway, and we'll be lucky
if they hand us a hundred bucks."

Lou entered the room, ogling the small brunette who, seated at
the table with only her upper body visible, appeared to be an
adolescent.  He and Jack took seats at the table on either side
of the girls.  Jack's hand casually explored Betsy's closest
breast, thumb and finger stroking the nipple.

"You want to be my girl tonight?"

Betsy swallowed ostentatiously and leered.  "Sure.  I'll get full
at both ends."  Her eyes twinkled.  "What do you call a
snotty-nosed hooker?"

Jack sneered, "We've heard that one.  'Full.'"

"Okay.  What do you _ask_ her?"

"What?"

"'You got room for one more?'"  She guffawed, joined by the men.

Lou noted, "I'm glad to see you feeling better."  His hand fell
on Anita's smooth thigh.  "What about you, little one?"

The girl leaned back in her chair and patted her belly, causing
conical breasts to jiggle tautly.  "Oh, wow, Lou, you and Jack
saved our lives."

"Good god!" Lou exclaimed, suddenly wide-eyed.  "Stand up, Anita.
You, too, Betsy."

The men stared at the bodies, now exhibited at close range.
Fleshy parts on both displayed sizeable greenish-yellow bruises.
Betsy had scabbed scratches on her knees.

Jack asked sternly, eyes flashing, "Your boyfriends did that to
you?"

Betsy sighed, nodding.

"Why, Betsy?"

The blonde licked her lips indecisively.

Anita advised, "Tell them, Betsy.  All of it."

The larger shook her head.  "It don't make a lot of sense."

"So what?  They still beat us up.  Tell what they said."

Betsy sagged back into her chair.  She looked at Lou.  "It was
your fault."

"Mine?" he asked incredulously.

"Yours and Jack's   You got us drunk."

"Your boyfriends don't like you drunk?"

"Told you it don't make no sense."

Jack studied her.  "You mean, you weren't supposed to fuck?"

"I guess not."  Her lip curled.  "But how was we supposed to
know?  Luke and Bucky let other guys do us more than once.  Then
the other night they found us drunk and full of your jizz."  She
tossed her head.  "What's the difference?  Jizz is just jizz!
But they got mad as hell.  We thought they was gonna kill us
before we got shed of them."

"The little bastards!" declared Jack.

"Not so little," retorted Betsy.  "Bucky is taller than you."  A
tear rolled out of her eye.  "We run off naked as jaybirds."  She
snuffed back phlegm and took a deep breath, smiling ironically.
"Hadn't been for another old guy, old as you two, I don't know
what would've happened to us.  He took us home in his pickup and
give us these clothes when it got light, said they belonged to
his girls when they was young."

"So you spent the first night with him," mused Lou.  "Was he a
farmer?"

"I guess.  He fed us breakfast, too."

"Why didn't you stay with him?"

"His wife woke up and run us off."  Her eyes narrowed.  "Where's
your woman, Lou?"

"Jack's divorced and I'm a widower.  What did you do for the
farmer?"

She shrugged.  "Blew him."

Anita sighed reminiscently.  "He licked on me.  Oh, wow!"  She
shuddered and fell back into her own chair.

"Three days," mused Jack.  "What have you been doing?"

Betsy's chin rose.  "I lifted 50 bucks out of his wallet."

"Everything he had, eh?"

"No, not everything.  I left him a 20.  50 was enough to feed us
but not enough for a room.  We thought of finding another man."
She lowered her eyes.  "Guess we're chicken."

Jack said softly, "Well, you've found men that like you now."

She sniffed and said with a speculative look, "_One_, anyway."

He shook his head.  "_Two_, honey!"

She sighed and rose to her feet.  Her magnificent breasts jiggled
without any sag.  "Then I'm all yours.  I guess we surely do owe
you.  But I need a shower bad."

Jack grinned hugely as he took her hand.  "We'll take care of
that first, though it's likely to be a long shower."  As they
left the room his voice floated back.  "I mean to soak you inside
and out."

Lou's eyes were riveted on the smaller girl, who lowered her head
demurely.  His voice quavered, "You little sweetheart, are you
ready to go to my room?"

She rose and posed momentarily for him.  Her breasts, narrow
double cones, impressed him again with their better suitability
to a 14 year-old chest.  The thick, dark pubes were her only
suggestion of 18-year maturity.  Lou found the contrast
intriguing.  "Come," he said, holding forth an inviting hand as
he struggled to his feet.

She clasped his hand.  "We took a bath in the surf this morning,
but I'm awful ripe."

"Oh, yeah?"  He squeezed the nearer breast.  "From this I think
you're just now turning ripe.  I'm ready to pluck this juicy
fruit.  I shall pretend you're my little niece and I'm your nasty
great uncle."

She giggled.  "My _spry_ uncle!  Betsy told you we like spry
uncles."



* * *



"It's dark in here, Jack.  I can't see a thing."  Betsy called
from the doorway, returning from the bathroom where she had been
allowed only to relieve her bladder.

"Just follow my voice.  Lou's the one who likes to see flesh.
He'll do you later under bright lights.  I'm the sort of guy
who's satisfied with the feel of a woman."

"Oomph," the blonde exclaimed, falling onto the bed.  Her hands
found his body.  "You're naked, too ... and already hard."

"Yeah, I've been thinking about these big tits.  This hard-on
should last, though I don't want to use it right away.  There,
lie flat on the bed.  I want to lick on you."

His lips immediately found a large, firm breast and its nipple,
hard and salty.  "Unlike Lou, I prefer you sticky and smelling a
bit used," he gasped after a moment, an edge of excitement in his
voice.  His face roamed to her flat belly, soft without any flab,
chin grazing her pubic bush as he moved lower.

"You often go down on strange women, Jack?" she taunted while
squirming at the unexpected tingle of pleasure.

"You mean on whores?  I think you're still only an amateur, even
if your boyfriends swapped you around, even if you do let a few
old men take their pleasure with you."

"I don't think we're whores."  She sighed.  "Not yet, anyway."

He held her firm flesh by breast and buttock cheek while his
tongue gouged her navel.

She squirmed.  "Oh, Jack, don't tickle me!"

"That's the proof!  You have a way to go yet.  You can't tickle a
whore."

She twitched as his tongue touched the top of her clitoris.  Her
acrid hair muffled his voice.  "I want to eat out a teenage
pussy.  Put your legs over my shoulders."

She accommodated him willingly, squeezing his head lightly
between cool, sticky thighs.  She shivered involuntarily,
suddenly appreciating the skill of this ancient lover.

He stopped long enough to say, "Whores don't respond like a
violin in the hands of an expert."

"A violin?  Ooo, Jack!  I'm melting like butter."

He chuckled.  "Right!  You're butter and my tongue is the warm
knife."

"Jack, you're good," she mewled, squirming under his touch.

He could not hear her, because sleek thighs clamped his ears, but
he recognized the familiar effect from her increasingly agitated
motions.  He licked and nibbled unmercifully until the thighs
became uncomfortably tight against his head and hands pulled at
his hair.

"Stop, please stop!" she screamed, pushing his head violently
away.

He moved his torso quickly between her upraised knees, and
manually teased himself into her, slowly, inch by inch until he
was fully embedded.

"Oh, my god, Jack, what a man you are!"

"And what a woman!  My whole head is full of your odor."

"You mean you like it?"

"It makes my cock stiffer than it's been in years."

Her hands behind his head pulled his lips down to hers for a
deep, wet kiss.

She moaned convincingly, orgasmic bleats from the pinnacle to
which his tongue had raised her, as he rammed her with seven
thick inches.  He thrust like a young man, foolishly for a person
of his age.  Very shortly he was gasping for air.  With a groan
of frustration he had to give it up.

When he lay motionless atop her save for heaving chest, the
agreeable blonde inquired, "Want me on top, Jackie?  I love that.
Or maybe you want me to suck you."

"I'm almost there, darling," he wheezed. "Let me do it slowly.
Rub your thighs against my hips."

He resumed but with shorter, slower strokes.  For long minutes he
worked, finally completing the task with a pleasure less intense
than he remembered from four nights ago but satisfying
nonetheless.  The squirt was little more than an oozing, hardly
enough to leak out when he rolled off the girl and lay, panting,
beside her.

She snuggled to him.  "Let me do it next time, Jack.  I'll get on
top."

"Yes, yes," he mumbled, wishing she were gone, wanting to sleep,
but pulling her head to his shoulder.

After awhile his breathing quieted and became regular.  She
slipped from his arms and went to the bathroom.  To her surprise
steam was already rising from the shower.



* * *



Anita lay face down on the bed with her head turned to one side,
resting on a forearm.  Her hips were not so padded and pronounced
as many girls.  Androgynous legs and moderate length black hair
could have been those of a twelve year-old.  Naked, Lou sat
beside her with a hand on a perky butt cheek.  He had spend the
previous twenty minutes exploring her body with his mouth.

"You could drive a man to perversion, Anita.  Do you know that?
I'd just like to climb on top of you and fuck you in the ass, as
if you were a boy."

"But I'm not a boy!" she protested, rising slightly on an elbow
to look at him.  "I've got a better place for you.  I don't want
you to do me ... in the butt."

"I'm not so large.  It wouldn't really hurt, you know."

She looked askance at his midsection.  Indeed, the man was less
even than Bucky, who she had learned hated for other males to see
his organ.  Presently at tumescence, this one would measure less
than six slender inches.  She had studied it while he undressed
in the bright light that he preferred, careful that he should not
catch her eyes on it.  It had been a nub almost fully hidden
beneath his considerable paunch, risible to many, though she
would never think of laughing at it.

"I, like, tried that once, Lou, and it hurt me bad."

"I'm certain I wouldn't hurt you, little one.  Was he a lot
bigger than I?"

Instead of answering she said, "Let me suck you and calm you
down.  Then we could snuggle as long as you like."

"Of course I would like to snuggle with you, sweetheart, but
right now I want to come off with a glorious fuck.  At least let
me do you doggie style."

Without a word the girl rose to elbows and knees with elevated
buttocks.

"You gonna run us off tomorrow?" she asked in a tone of voice
that suggested bargaining, looking around from her crouched
position.

"Run you off?  I wouldn't do that to my sweet thing."  He knelt
behind her and rubbed himself between the moist lips.  Abruptly
he pushed the head hard against her pinched anus.

"Don't!" she almost screamed.  "You said you wouldn't!"  She
moved forward a couple of inches on her hands and knees.

"I never said any such thing!"  But he eased into her vagina,
mumbling, "I'm too dry."

"There!  Ain't that better?" she inquired with some indignation.

"It's certainly a grand sensation, sweetheart, like fucking a
young school girl.  But it's not what I want at the moment."

He pulled out and simply sat behind her.

After a moment of stillness, she turned to look into his face.
"What's the matter?"

He grunted.  "I'm arguing with myself."

"About what?"

"Whether I should hold you down and fuck you up the ass whether
you want it or not."

"Lou!"  Her eyes were stricken.

"I guess that would be rape," he mused, "and I hate rapists."  He
sighed.  "Besides, you're a little sweetheart.  I won't be so
mean to my sweetheart."

"Lou," she said, heaving a sigh.  "You really want me thataway?"

"Goddamn, I do!" he declared forcefully, hands recapturing her
hips.

"Bucky made me bleed.  He said it wa'n't no fun at all.  But,
Lou, if it means so much to you, I reckon I owe you whatever you
want."

She turned face down and again raised her buttocks.  With a
savage grin, he pressed himself once more between her cheeks.
She shivered and whimpered but resolutely held herself ready.  He
froze, looking down.  His thumbs spread her cheeks.  He could
plainly see the puckered anal folds, now compressed by his penis
tip.  Just a little more pressure and he would slip right into
her entrails.

He took a deep breath.  "Oh, shit, Anita!"

"What's the matter now?" she asked, craning her head to look up
at him from under her shoulder.

He sighed.  "I guess I can't do it as long as you're so afraid of
it."

"Go ahead," she responded stoutly.  "I'm ready.  I want you to be
happy with me."

"No."  He backed away enough to lean down and lick her nether
cheeks.  His tongue embedded itself in her flesh.  Hands on her
thighs turned her higher.  He licked the perineum and the puffy
lips.  Nothing boy-like about this end!  He recalled an Italian
whore of 20 years previous, whom he had treated as a boy at both
ends.

He raised his torso with a grimace.  "Turn around in the bed," he
commanded harshly.  "That's right, still face down with your feet
toward the head."

She lay on her belly, knees behind her, calves bent upward to
clear the headboard.  Her elbows fell across his thighs and she
rested her chin on crossed arms, grinning up at him, pleased with
this apparently more familiar turn of events.

He leaned back on one arm, the other hand gathering her hair into
a tight knot held in his fist at the back of her head.  "Here's
another way to be the same as a boy."  His voice was harsh,
having lost its usually placating tone.  "Open your mouth wide."

At first she automatically resisted the pressure behind her head.
But his fist forced her mouth lower, forcing his shaft nearly to
the back of her throat.  He began to pull and push alternately,
forcing deep strokes.  "Suck hard," he commanded, "like a
perverted little boy, but keep those teeth apart."

The motion made her dizzy.  She tried to entreat him with a groan
through her nose but he only moved her head the faster.  Her
forehead beat against the bottom fold of his paunch.  If he
struck any deeper into her throat she feared gagging and vomiting
the recent supper all over his lap.

The forceful bobbing went on and on, never quite penetrating so
deep as to trigger her gorge.  She felt his legs tighten under
her arms, the muscles turning harder.  His breathing came in
gasps.  But he was groaning now.  Suddenly her mouth was full of
a cool liquid.  His hand froze and she relaxed completely,
letting the plunging organ loll on her tongue.  Bucky had slapped
her until she learned to stop sucking at such a moment.  She
waited.  Soon he withdrew, releasing her hair.

He fell backward toward the foot of the bed.  Anita spat her
mouthful onto the floor and crawled around to look into his eyes.

"You all right?" she asked in worry.

"Leave me alone!"

She flinched back, but his hand caught her hip.  "No, Anita,
don't leave me.  I'm sorry.  I'm the one at fault.  Would you
believe ..."  His voice was strained.  "I'm sorry, Anita.  I
don't like myself sometimes."

She doubted that hearing more on this subject would benefit her.
"I need a shower," she reminded him submissively.  Tears welled
in her eyes.

"Go ahead, but come back.  I want to kiss you again."  He stared
at her.  "Was it that bad?"

She sighed, dashing her eyes clear.  "I'm not a boy, Lou."

"I know it.  I said I was sorry.  I really am.  I won't do that
again, Anita."

"And I'm more than just a little whore."

"I know that, too."  He studied her reflectively.  "How would you
like to be a lot more?  How would you like to be my niece?"

"I'll have to talk to Betsy."

On the way to the bathroom she smacked her lips.  Bucky's
ejaculate had been nearly tasteless, but this old man's jizz was
slightly bitter.  Its aftertaste reminded her of the time Bucky
had urinated into her mouth.

Betsy had sucked off the old guy who gave them the ride.  As
Anita gargled with water from a paper cup, she made a mental note
to ask the blonde if she'd also noticed such a difference between
old and young.

She found a bottle of scented shampoo in the shower stall and
soaped her hair thickly.  She stood under the drumming water for
long minutes in unaccustomed luxury.  Someone touched her:
Betsy.  The two girls melted into each other's arms.



* * *



"Christ!  What time is it?"

Jack stood in the kitchen doorway hugging his bathrobe around him
and blinking in the bright overhead light.  A toilet was filling
in the distance.

"Not yet four," Lou replied, looking up from the table where he
held a half full glass of milk in both hands.  He too wore a
robe.  "What happened to your wristwatch?"

"Oh."  Jack blinked at his wrist, looked up and grinned.  "Easier
to ask you.  You've always just looked at yours."

Lou snorted, but chuckled at the hit.  "The little one still
asleep?"

"She snores."  Jack opened the refrigerator door, leaned on the
appliance and gazed inside it as if counting the items it
contained.

"You're letting the cold out," his friend objected idly.  "Did
you butt fuck her?"

"Anita?"

"Yeah.  You said you wanted to do everything."

"Nah.  I rubbed in the crack from behind, but I couldn't get it
hard.  Besides, you have to take pity on some women."  He grinned
patronizingly.  "That is, _I_ do!  She's really too small for me
there."

Lou shook his head.  "Funny how women are about that.  Every one
of them has shit a bigger and longer turd than _any_body's dick,
even when they were still little girls, yet they claim a dick
hurts."

Jack grinned darkly.  "Well, I can imagine a way to find out if
it does."

"Don't get your hopes up on that one!"  Lou chuckled unworriedly.
"Anita will let you do it, I suspect, if you suggest she owes
you.  At least that's what she told me.  But you're right, she
was too small for me too.  So I settled for a blow job."

"Just that?  I suppose you fucked Betsy after their shower."

Lou laughed self-consciously and sighed.  "I couldn't get it up
again either.  You know, Jack, we're really getting old.  Not
even teenagers can keep us hard."

Jack had poured his own glass of milk.  He closed the
refrigerator and stood sipping over the table.  "Well I tell you,
I intend to have a morning fuck.  I'll have that kitten bouncing
on my pole yet."

Lou took a small sip of milk.  "I'm going to butt fuck Betsy,
then you can have her back for the rest of the day."

"The rest of the day?  Jesus, Lou!  How long do you expect to
keep these whores around?"

"They aren't really whores, Jack -- yet.  As far as they're
concerned, they're still giving it away.  But think about it.
Wouldn't you like to have young pussy always available, Jack?
They wouldn't cost us much, you know."

"No, no!  Please!"  The taller glared down at his seated
companion.  "I agree this is fun, but don't let it get out of
control.  Even if they're legal, what would people say?  Can you
imagine introducing them to your grandchildren?  My son would
probably have me committed.  Besides those girls would steal us
blind."

"I know, I know.  But they're so fresh!  I'd like to have them
shave their pussies and dress up like school girls.  Christ, the
games we could play!"

"You're talking like a pervert, Lou."  Jack paused.  "Although I
admit it's an interesting idea.  Maybe we can keep them for just
one more day, but then they'll have to leave.  We'll give them a
couple hundred apiece."

The smaller man looked up at his looming friend.  "Jack, Jack, we
can keep them longer than that!  You know we'll never have
another chance like this."

Jack stared.  "What's on your mind, Lou?  Just how long do you
intend to keep them around, or have you put a limit on it?"

The smaller man returned the stare.  "Why should there be any
limit?"

"Because we're old farts, if nothing else.  Do you imagine for
one minute that they are somehow _attracted_ to us?  That's
crazy!  Just now we're room and board, and they're paying for it
the only way they know, but don't you dare think they won't scram
out of here without a backward glance as soon as they think of a
place to go."

Lou snickered.  "Maybe we need to sweeten the pot -- pay them a
salary, as it were."

Jack grimaced.  "Damn it, Lou, you're going overboard.  You've
been silly on these girls since we took them to the beach.
Teenage girls, for Christ's sake!  Act your age, how about it?"

Lou's eyes narrowed.  "You said it yourself:  what's age got to
do with it?"

Jack laughed grimly.  "That's what I said to _them_ when I was
practicing salesmanship!  You silly old fart, who was it
complaining that even teenagers can't keep us hard?  Pay them a
salary to do _what_, for Christ's sake?"

"Maybe nothing will _keep_ it hard, but they can sure stir it up
every day!  Silly old fart yourself, if you let them get away.
And don't tell me about our families.  They've damn near
abandoned us anyhow.  You said it the other night.  They're just
waiting for us to croak."  Lou grinned ferally.  "I know some
asses that would _fry_ if I changed my will to favor Betsy and
Anita."

Jack's eyes widened.  "Good god, are you crazy?"

Lou's eyes glinted.  "I'm crazy -- like a fox.  I want that
pussy, Jack."  He glared in unmistakable determination.  "I hope
to die with my dick in it!"

"You can't mean that!  What a mess that would cause!"

"I don't give a damn.  I've finally figured out exactly what I
want:  easy girls to play with.  You can't get that from whores,
even if you can find trustworthy ones.  Whores always have their
minds set on the money and going home to their pimps.  I can get
it from these girls with a little careful handling."  Lou's face
set in adamantine lines.  "And I intend to, my contrary friend,
even if I have to tell you where to go."

Jack put down his glass, crossed his arms and said sternly, "It's
my house, Lou.  I say they leave tomorrow afternoon at the
latest."  He took a deep breath.  "You can go with them if you
want, although I'd rather you wouldn't."

Lou suddenly stood, causing his chair to fall over with a bang.
He opened his mouth, but then shut it again without a word.  He
turned and stalked out of the kitchen.  Jack remained standing in
the middle of the room, his face troubled.  He scratched his
belly, turned and once more opened the refrigerator door to stare
inside.

Lou's voice, grating with intensity, caused him to whirl and face
the smaller man, who had returned to the kitchen.  "I've got one
more thing to say to you, Jack.  Yeah, you were the CEO.  You're
accustomed to having your way when it comes to that.  But we're
retired now.  I'm through jumping when you snap your fingers.
And I was the C_F_O, you recall.  I know your holdings to the
penny, Jack, but maybe you don't know mine.  I'm twice as wealthy
as you, pal.  Have you noticed the Creighton place down the road?
It's for sale.  It's even got a pool.  Jack, this time tomorrow
I'll own it."

"They want a mil and a half," the larger man warned.  "It's
outrageous!"

"Maybe.  But you wouldn't flinch at a mil and a half.  You think
I will?"

Jack drew himself up, throwing out his chest.  He declared in
loud tones, "You never were a fool before, Lou, but now ...  And
over two dumb broads, at that, not even fully grown!  What an
idiot!"

"An idiot, am I?"  Lou's eyes bulged.  His voice grew even
louder.  "I'm the idiot who saved your ass in the Melrose
acquisition, who got you the backing from National Ventures, who
talked the board around when they were going to fire your ass
over that greedy secretary."   He shouted the last.  "Well, you
ungrateful son of a bitch, you can take your house and stick -"

"_What's the matter_?"

Lou whirled around at the feminine soprano behind him.  Betsy
stood in the doorway with Anita behind her.  Both female faces
displayed apprehension.  Both girls were naked.

Betsy continued at a lower volume, "I surely hope you ain't
fighting over us!"

Lou took a long, shaky breath and jammed his hands into his robe
pockets.  He turned, eyes downcast, and went around the table,
picked up the chair he had overthrown and sat down in it,
glowering at his glass of milk left on the table.

Jack sighed and said to Betsy, "Did we wake you up?"

Before she could respond, Anita declared, "I'm hungry."

"Are you hungry also?" Jack asked, looking at Betsy, who
shrugged.

Jack beckoned to Anita.  "Come in and fix yourself something.
Maybe Lou wants something, too."  He crossed the room and stood
before Betsy as the smaller girl wiggled past him.

"I want you to go back to bed with me," he declared softly,
attention wholly on Betsy.

Her eyes were solemn.  "Will it hurt you?"

"Don't _you_ start!"

Her answer was to whirl and proceed ahead of him up the hall.

Anita stopped in front of the table.  "Can I make you something,
Lou?"

Sweat stood on his forehead despite the dry air, but the flushed
face he had shown to Jack was loosing its ruddiness.  He said, "I
don't know.  Can you cook?"

"Simple stuff.  Betsy and me cooked for our moms and for Granny."

"Can you scramble eggs?"

"I can if you got a regular frying pan."

He waved vaguely at the long rows of closed cabinets and drawers.
She turned purposefully and began her search at the drawers under
the Genn-Air island.  After some banging she found what she
needed.  The refrigerator held eggs.  Spices and condiments were
in the pantry door.  As she brought everything together beside
the burner heating on the Genn-Air, she asked, "You do the
cooking here, Lou?"

"No."

"Jack does?"  Her voice expressed surprise.

"Neither of us was ever a cook.  A professional comes in three
nights a week."

"Oh, wow!"

"Did you cook for your boyfriends?"

"A few times on a public grill.  All their trailer had was a
fridge."

"How long were you with them, Anita?"

She was busy with eggs and frying pan.  After awhile she
answered, "I don't really know.  Maybe Betsy does.  I think they
took Granny off in, like, September.  Hard to keep up with the
time.  Every day seems the same as the one before."

"What did your boyfriends make you do?"

"Wash their clothes, mainly.  Who washes yours, Lou?"

He shrugged.  "That's part of the maintenance contract."  He
huffed a laugh.  "Washed their clothes!  Weren't they young men?
I thought they screwed you all the time."

"Bucky's still only 17 and Luke's in his twenties.  They're
brothers."

He laughed again.  "But you had to wash clothes more than fuck?"

"Boys get tired easy," she noted, stirring the frying pan
contents.

"Old men do too, eh?  What kind of fucking did you do, Anita?"

"The usual kind, I guess."

"What kind is that?"

"You know, with the boy on top."

"How about Betsy."

She shrugged.  "About the same.  Maybe she did more because Luke
let other guys have her sometimes.  Guys go for her big boobs."

"Sharp ones like yours have their charms too."

"Sharp ones?"  She turned slightly toward him, thrusting out her
chest, looking down at the conical shapes profiled against the
linoleum.

"Where they attach to your chest is smaller than on Betsy.  I
guess the right word is 'conical.'  Are you on the pill?"

"The pill?  Oh, no, we didn't have the money for no pills."

"You fucked that guy for several months?"

"Him and a few more."

"Betsy did too, I gather.  How in hell did you girls avoid
getting pregnant?"

She grinned around at him cheerfully.  "Granny taught us to
douche like hookers."

"You can't count on douching!"

"Well, it's worked so far."  She added thoughtfully, "Of course
Bucky'd rather get sucked on, 'specially when he was watching
TV."

"Watching TV?"

"Yeah.  He'd get on the air mattress and prop his head on the
wall.  I had to put my head on his belly.  That way I could watch
it too."

"You'd suck his dick for an hour?  Two hours?  What?"

"Oh, yeah, like all afternoon, 'specially if it was raining."

"How many times would he come?"

"You mean jizz?  He wouldn't jizz 'less he jacked on it awhile."
She glanced around, grinning at the man's fascinated eyes.  "He
said he just liked to feel me a-sucking on it."

"I'll bet!"

She chuckled reminiscently.  "When the show got exciting, his
thing'd shrink."

"Was he sick or something?"

"Sick?"

"That he couldn't come."

"No."  She looked at him curiously.  "It's hard to make one jizz
in your mouth."

He laughed sourly.  "You think so?  Anita, sweetheart, you are
lovely and willing.  Any man worth the name would die for you.  I
find it incredible that you had that kind of trouble with a
_young_ man!"

She thought it over and asked hesitantly, "That ... banging my
head up and down -- did it make you jizz quicker?"

He took a deep a breath and dropped his eyes.  "Those eggs smell
good.  Aren't they about done?"



* * *



"That ought to be hard enough."

Betsy raised up from her crouch between Jack's legs.

He asked, "Can you reach that little jar on the nightstand?"

She demonstrated that she could, holding it up to the dim light
filtering through the not-quite-closed hall door.  "Pom-made,"
she said with exaggerated mouthwork.  "What's it for?"

"Smear it around my dick head."

"For _that_, huh?"  She opened the jar, inserted a finger and
followed instructions.  Her finger dwelt on the hardening glans.
She grinned.  "You do lots of girls up the ass, Jack?"

"Huh!  What makes you think that?"

"This jar, right by your bed.  Hey, it smells good, like
gardenias."

"It's for jacking off, if you must know.  That's enough.  Come
and squat over me...  No, with your face to me.  I'll let you put
it in so it doesn't hurt you."

"It won't hurt."  But again she obeyed.

He was pleasantly surprised at the ease of it.  Immediately he
became suspicious.  An extended hand reached the touch-sensitive
bedside lamp.  Light flooded the ample breasts swinging above his
chest.

"How did you do that?" she asked, astonished eyes staring at the
lamp.

He answered dryly, "Now is not the time to explain capacitive
sensors.  Lean back."

She smirked.  "So you _do_ want to see!"  Hands reaching behind
her closed on his knees, and she leaned back in her squat.  Her
labia gaped.  Plainly the large penis was mostly engulfed in the
anus.

He breathed, "I can't believe how easy it was!"

"Your pom-made is good stuff."

"It must be!"

"Leaning back like this, I can't do much for you."

"I just wanted to see where that big pickle went.  It seemed so
... loose ..."

She laughed.  "You thought I slipped it in front, did you?  Well,
I didn't, even if it does feel loose.  What you think about
this?"

Suddenly he was gripped as in a fist.  He grunted, then chuckled.
"What I think, Betsy, is that you have a talented asshole.  Lean
forward again where you can bounce.  I want to squeeze those big
tits anyway."

His fingertip touched the lamp back to darkness.  Once again the
girl obeyed.  His hands rose to enclose the jiggling breasts.
Her hand went between them to rub herself.  Her hips rose and
fell over the full length of his shaft.  She had a technique of
clamping the sphincter on the upstroke and loosening it on the
way down.

"God, Betsy, this feels good!"

She sighed.  "Luke liked this the best too."

"But you didn't?"

"Well, it's safer.  But you already showed me the best."

"And that is?"

"Your tongue."

"Your boyfriend -- Luke? -- didn't use his, eh?"

"Not where it counts.  Jack, take it easy, hear?  Let me do the
work."

"You sweetheart!"  He chuckled with evident pleasure.  "But I
can't hold still, Betsy.  I think pretty soon I'm going to fill
your sweet ass chock full of dick juice."



* * *



Someone shook his shoulder roughly.  Jack awoke to find sunlight
filtering through the blinds and Lou standing over him.
"Wha-what, what -"

Lou's lip curled over his teeth.  He barked, "They've gone!"

Jack sat up.  Indeed his king-size bed was empty of girl flesh.
"To the john?" he asked hopefully.

"To blazes," Lou responded, releasing him and stepping back.
"Better check your wallet."

Favoring a painful hip joint, Jack stood up and fumbled in the
trousers hanging on a clothes hook attached to a closet door.  He
opened the wallet.  It contained a single $20 bill.  "Damn!
There was over $300 in here."

"Yeah, and they put your wallet right back where they found it.
Neat, aren't they!  They nicked me about the same.  But they've
gone, Jack.  Come on.  Let's get dressed and go look for them."

Naked Jack stared at his fully-dressed friend.  As his mind began
to function, he recalled the wonderful orgasm produced by his
first experience of anal sex.  His eyes lit.  "My god, I did it,
Lou!"

"Did what?  Oh, yeah.  So did I."

"Was it your first time too?"

"No.  But it was probably my last.  Anita is too much a
sweetheart to defile that way."

"_Defile_!  What are you talking about?"

"Butt fucking is the subject, Jack."

"But ... _defile_?"

"I don't think it actually hurt her, Jack.  I greased both of us
thoroughly and it slipped right in.  But that son-of-a-bitch she
was living with taught her to find it degrading.  I could tell it
hurt her feelings, and that made me hate myself afterwards.  But
she was so sweet and nice about it!  I tell you, Jack, these
girls are really special.  That Anita is a wonderful person and a
little doll.  She's a damn good cook too.  Now come on.  Put
those pants on and let's go find them."

Jack shook his head and held out the wallet splayed open upon its
single bill.  "They don't want to be found, Lou."

"I don't care.  They aren't old enough to know what they want.
We'll find them anyway."

"You propose for two old men to tramp up 50 miles of beach and
check out ten or 20 malls?  What makes you think they'll arrive
anywhere while we're there or vice-versa?"

Lou glowered.  "Don't you think a lot of Betsy, or did I
misunderstand?"

"Oh, I _love_ her -- especially her talented little asshole!
She's more than a willing bimbo, too: she did us a real favor by
interrupting us in the kitchen this morning."  He displayed the
remaining $20.  "And she's got style.  If we bump into them again
I intend to get her back here so fast it'll make her head swim."

Lou perked up.  "Do you mean that?"

"Damn right I mean it!  If that happens we've got some practical
issues to resolve, but I've thought it over -- that and our
little fight.  In general you're right.  Those girls could be the
brightest spot in the rest of our entire lives.  We just have to
set them up right.  And we will.  I'm confident we haven't seen
the last of them."  He sniffed.  "Where else could they find such
soft touches?"

"Florida is full of wealthy old men."

"Yeah, but they already know how easy we are."

Lou took a deep breath.  "Jack, I'm sorry about ... what I said.
I'm sorry in particular for calling you a son of a bitch."

Jack laughed.  "Don't worry about it.  She was."


END Episode 1
Next Episode: "Easy Come, Easy Go"


Contacts:
	Varangian:  ludmax11@hotmail.com
	Kellis:  kellis@dhp.com

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