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From: "Paris" <the_panda@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} The Gathering 12
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Date: Thu, 27 Oct 2005 04:10:01 -0400
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The Gathering

By Paris Waterman

Copyright 2003


Chapter 12 - San Francisco & Marilyn

Marilyn Perry lives contentedly in a "Haight" brownstone as the yuppies
like call it, having managed to purchase it after a brief affair with
one of the Microsoft wonder kids led her to buy cheap and sell high as
it were.

The Haight is a wonderful place for the adventurous with its many
boutiques, galleries and eating establishments and Marilyn is surely
that. It's 8:15 in the morning and she is looking out the picture
window down Asbury Street past the house where members of The Grateful
Dead lived in the "60s. The shops lining the street are already doing a
brisk business.

Hearing a light knock on her door, Marilyn swirled around gracefully
and crossed the room to see who is calling on her this early in the
day. As she approached the front door she glanced into the master
bedroom at the two young girls still sleeping, but decides not to close
the door on them.

Looking through the peep hole at the front door she spies her latest
lover, Tucker. 'Tucker the fucker,' she thinks with a smile and
opens the door to let him in.

"Hi," he said with a boyish grin that she found irresistible.
"Sorry about dropping by so early, but I was in the area and . . ."

 "Come on in, I'm just about to make some coffee."

She padded back to the kitchen and put coffee on. As the machine
wheezed and burbled through its last phases Tucker looked in on the
young girls. One wore a light blue teddy and white panties. The other a
lovely redheaded waif lay nude, the sheet kicked off during her last
dream of the night. He admired their youthful suppleness and wondered
if Marilyn would allow him to sample their varied charms.

Marilyn noted his appraisal of the girls; the brunette was Evie and the
redhead Marcie. All she knew of Evie was that she had run away from
home, but not why. Marcie had been quite blunt about it. "I took off
after my bastard father did me. My mother didn't believe me when I
told her and I left before he did me again," she'd said that
memorable night Marilyn had encountered her cowering in her vestibule.

'He'll want to screw them both,' she thought and flipped on the
countertop TV, found the local weather update, reveled in the news that
it was already fifty-eight degrees outside, that a front was on the way
that would keep highs in the sixties, drop the temperature to a
veritable bone-chilling thirty-five in the night to come. 'Maybe
Tucker and I will enjoy the girls this evening,' she told herself.

"Still watching the weather?" she heard and turned to Tucker as he
was slipping off his leather jacket.

"Uh huh," she said automatically and glanced in the mirror and
grimaced. Her face was still puffy from sleep. The kids still in bed
would rise up looking like the cellophane wrappers had just been
removed, but she . . . she ran a hand through her tousled hair and
smiled for Tucker's benefit.

She was wearing an old extra large T-shirt and the bottoms of an old
jogging suit she'd had . . . since Dutch and she were married.

"Only in the winter," she responded absentmindedly and turned the
sound off, leaving the flickering image alive.

He nodded, not understanding what she'd meant. The truth was Marilyn
had been born and raised on a farm in Centralia, Illinois and her
father had listened almost as passionately to the weather as he had to
the grain and livestock reports.

"Still," Tucker said lightly, "it is really nice out there today.
Marilyn yawned, remembering to cover her mouth. "Um, sorry," she
said. Her voice was pleasant, but carried a husky timbre from too many
martinis over the years. She stretched, arching her back, thrusting her
breasts against the fabric of the T-shirt. Tucker noted the nipples
rising almost as if being offered to him as a breakfast repast. Then
Marilyn turned away from him to lean against the sink counter, chin on
her hands, staring out into the lovely San Francisco morning.

"Lotta people out already," she stated matter of factly.

"Some people work for a living," he said softly, close to her ear.

She didn't respond but kept looking out the window.

He reached out and flicked a dangling ear ring with a finger.

"Sometimes you can be a pain in the ass," she said with a frown.

"Especially when I don't use enough lubricant," he laughed.

She rolled about, hip cocked on the counter, regarding him. "Yeah,
that's for sure." And she smiled at him. Her eyes were screaming
Yes, Yes, Yes, inviting his next move.

He got the message and leaned into her, bending to her upturned mouth.
He heard her gasp involuntarily as their hips interlocked and he
pressed his turgidness into her. Her mouth met his, her tongue probing,
her breath harsh and driving his to a matching pace. He wasn't sure
how long the kiss lasted, nor how long it took for him to get the
drawstring to the jogging pants undone. It seemed to take only an
instant, and on the other hand, it seemed to go on forever.

He had gotten his own sweatpants halfway down his legs when Marilyn
raised one foot to the balky waistband and stamped down, jamming the
pants into a wad about his ankles. He raised her onto the counter,
noted vaguely that through the tile seemed almost frigid at the touch,
she made no sound of complaint, gave only a groan of pleasure as he
drove his massive prick into her.

She fell back, throwing her hands apart to brace herself, to meet his
thrusts with lunges of her own. One of her hands sent the blender cup
bouncing off the still glowing TV, the other knocking the still-open
bag of coffee beans flying to the floor. Tucker got one foot out of his
wadded sweats, kicked vaguely to clear beans for a place to stand,
though he was moving rapidly to a place where he could have done what
he was doing while dancing on nails.

Marilyn had slid down, her head pressing against the counter's
backsplash, pressing first the switch for the overhead lamp, the other
that started the disposal grinding.

The redheaded Marcie emerged from the bedroom, still nude rubbing the
sleep from her eyes to see what the commotion was all about.

To Tucker, the grinding noise sounded like a symphonic orchestra that
counterpointed the growing white frenzy in his head.

Marilyn had twisted onto her stomach now, her toes barely touching the
floor. Tucker was behind her, his hands kneading her breasts, his feet
crushing coffee beans against the tiles.

Marcie's mouth fell open on seeing her first glimpse of Tucker's
monstrous prick surging in and out of Marilyn's pussy.

'It can't be that big!' she told herself and ran to wake Evie.

Vaguely, Tucker realized that the faucet had somehow gotten turned on
in the sink, that the spigot was pushed too far sideways, that water
was gushing freely onto the counter. Over the rasping sound of the
disposal he could make out the faint grunting sounds coming from a
heavily panting Marilyn.

Evie and Marcie emerged from the bedroom, holding hands too gawk at the
copulating couple at the sink.

The jet of water seemed as loud as a rocket, the disposal an earth
mover.

"The water," Marilyn gasped, her hands spayed flat, sliding about
the slick countertop.

"Right," he said and drove his manhood to her core and bliss for
both of them. Marilyn might have started to say something else, but
whatever it was dissolved into wordless cries.

The two young girls approached the adults carefully, studying their
every move, committing the scene to their respective memories.

Tucker was holding tightly above Marilyn's waist with one arm,
fighting a sudden weakness in his knees that threatened to send him
down. Finally, without leaving her, he lunged for the faucet lever,
managed to turn the thing off.

"I like that move," Marilyn murmured. She had her head resting
against one crooked arm, was smiling, though her eyes were closed.

"Can we try it again?" she said wriggling back against him.

"The water's off," Tucker said, still trying to catch his breath.
He felt like he'd been back on the practice field, running gassers.

"We could fix that," she said moving faster against him.

"Maybe we could," he replied grinning down at her. He was actually
reaching for the water faucet again when Evie sneezed.

Marilyn quickly called out, God Bless you, and good morning ladies.
This is Tucker, better known as Tucker the fucker."

"Good morning," they said in unison. "I'm Marcie," the
redhead said softly, with no apparent concern over her nudity.

"I . . . I'm Evie," the slim brunette added picking at an
imaginary thread on her teddy.

Both were staring intently at Tucker's prick, marveling at its length
and circumference, knowing full well it should be greatly diminished
after having sex.

Marilyn had already seen the future and in her vision the four of them
were cavorting upon her king-sized playpen of a bed in the next room,
when the phone rang. With a slight frown she gracefully hopped off the
wet countertop, grabbed a dishtowel and was wiping her dampened ass dry
when she picked up the telephone receiver on the fourth ring.

"Hello," she said in a friendly tone and tossed the towel to Tucker
who used it to dry himself off.

"Marilyn? Is that you?"

"Mary . . . yes it's me. How are you? It's been . . . gee, how
long has it been?"

"Linda Varner's wedding," Mary snapped out quickly, reveling a
tension that Marilyn had never encountered in her before.

"Yes, that's right. Wow . . . that was . . . "

"Eleven years ago," Mary finished for her.

Mary was an old and close friend. They had gone to college together and
then over time, drifted apart. The strange thing was that Mary had not
been sexually active during the sexual revolution and Marilyn had
respected her for it while she herself had had casual sex wherever and
whenever possible.

"That's right. Well, what can I do for you?" Marilyn turned to
face Tucker intending to signal him that this would take a minute or so
and saw the two girls holding his massive phallus, taking turns kissing
and stoking it. And to her dismay, as she watched, Tucker was
responding quickly, building a huge erection that the girls seemed
overjoyed with.

"I need help . . . advice actually. Could we meet someplace
convenient to you today?"

"What on earth is the problem, Mary dear?"

"Hmmm," her nervous friend began. "I thought I could rattle it
right off, but I seem . . ." and she began to cry.

"Mary . . . Mary . . . are you all right?"

Sniffling, and then blowing her nose, Mary responded. "Yes . . . No .
. . I don't know. That's why I need to see you."

"All right, sure . . . um, how about lunch at Adrian's, it's on .
. ."

"I know the place. It's on Court Street. The palm trees lead into
the entrance."

"How does noon sound?"

Mary sniffled again. "Could we meet sooner?"

"They open at eleven." Marilyn said as her eyes widened watching
Marcie's mouth expand far beyond what Marilyn would have thought
possible as Marcie accepted the bulbous knob of Tucker's mammoth
prick while Evie held one testicle in her left hand and absorbed about
half of the other in her very eager mouth.

"I guess so, if it's really that urgent. Now what's going on?"

More sobbing, then Mary composes herself enough to say, "I've been
in a relationship . . . my marriage, for the past eight years. Lately,
I . . . I've found that my life isn't all that I thought it was
supposed to be."

She sniffed and Marilyn took the opportunity to wave at Tucker and the
girls. He waved back, but the girls were oblivious to her gesturing.

"Now I care for Harry . . . my husband, but . . . I realize that
there are certain . . . desires going unfulfilled in my life, and . .
."

"So you want to discuss them with me?"
"Yes, you're so worldly Marilyn and I don't know where else to
turn."

"Well we'll talk more about it at lunch; right now I'm kind of
involved in something that requires my immediate attention."

"Oh, of course, I'm terribly sorry for calling like this, but . .
."

"Its okay, Mary, I'll see in a couple, bye now."

There was a puzzled tone to her voice as Mary also said "Goodbye."

Marilyn hung the phone up and touching her finger to her lower lip
approached Tucker and the girls with a broad smile on her face.

"So who's going to be first?" She asked the girls.

Evie replied first. "Marcie should. She can get it in her mouth."

Marilyn noted his roving fingers had found Evie's hairless pussy,
pushing her panties to one side and were almost idly delving into her
as Marcie strove to gain more of his prodigious prick down her gullet.

"I think you're right, Evie. She certainly has a head start on
you."

Tucker laughed at her pun, but neither girl got it.

"He's so big my lady," Evie said. "Is it the biggest ever?"

"He is big, Evie, but I guess there are some men out there who may
actually be longer and thicker. But don't count on meeting any of
them. Tucker here is a rare breed."

"So tell me Marilyn, who are these delightful nymphets?" Tucker
asked removing his prick from Marcie's mouth with a fairly loud
'pop.'

"Hmmm, girls why not tell Tucker here your respective stories?"

Marcie deprived of his delectable prick sat down on the kitchen tile
and crossed her legs. Evie stood beside him, doting on the magic his
fingers were bringing to her little pussy.

"Not much to tell," Marcie began. "I just turned fifteen last
month." She looked down at her hands which were folded in her lap.
Her pert, young breasts were rising and falling; the only indication
that Marcie was enduring a very stressful moment in the telling of her
story.

"I won't tell you where I came from 'cause then you might try to
send me back, but I will tell you my father drinks a lot and has a
heroin habit. And he wanted me to hit the street and turn tricks for
him. I didn't know it until he beat me and turned me out that my mom
had been tricking for a while too. I almost did turn a trick that
night, but the guy was so fat and disgusting that I threw up all over
his suit and tie. He tried to punch me . . . well he did catch me on
the shoulder as I was grabbing for the car door handle, but it opened
and I was running down the street before he could do anything really
bad to me. I was afraid to go home and slept in a doorway. Then later
that night, or was it morning? I don't know for sure, these two
Puerto Rican guys discovered me."

"They didn't hurt me, but they fucked me repeatedly. Since I
didn't struggle . . . well I guess they appreciated my cooperation
'cause they left me with seven dollars."

"That's a pretty tough introduction to sex, Marcie," Tucker said
and it was evident to everyone that he was sincere.

"I used the money for food and searched for a better place to sleep
that night. Late in the afternoon I was walking in the park and this
older guy started talking to me. Eventually he asked if I wanted to
earn some money. I kind of figured what he wanted from the way his eyes
were looking me up and down, so I asked him how much and for what."

"So you were turning tricks after all," Tucker said gently."

"I guess," she replied. "But he seemed nice enough and I agreed
that for fifty dollars I would blow him. We went into the bushes and I
took care of him. And best of all, he paid me; even asked if I walked
that path everyday. I said yeah, almost everyday and he gave me another
ten and said he'd meet me the next afternoon around the same time."

"Did you?"

"Hell no, I caught a bus to San Francisco!"

"And how did you and Maid Marilyn meet?" he grunted, as his fingers
moved faster in Evie's pussy and Evie was about to come.

Marilyn interrupted. "I saw her walking along the edge of the park
near the Presidio. I knew she'd be in trouble in another block or two
and struck up a conversation. She had the gumption to work me like a
trick."

"No shit," Tucker said and stopped fingering Evie.

Evie groaned at the sudden interruption, then began strumming her tiny
clitoris. Noting her activity, Tucker resumed his fingering and all of
a sudden Evie was huffing and gasping her way through a hard orgasm;
humping his hand while putting fingers in her mouth to quell her cries.

Marilyn waited patiently until Evie's climax subsided and then
continued. "I took her home and gave her twenty dollars to see how
far she would go."

Licking the finger he'd just extracted from Evie, Tucker asked,
"And how far was that?"

Marilyn grinned like the Cheshire cat. "I did have to show her how to
eat a pussy."

Marcie burst in with, "No fair, I was gonna do you, I just wasn't
sure about going about it."

"That's true enough," Marilyn said, nodding at Marcie. "She was
certainly willing, and after "very" little instruction she was
going down on me as well as anybody ever has."

Marcie actually preened on hearing the compliment.

"And what about our little Evie here?" Tucker inquired.

"Evie?" Marilyn said raising an eyebrow.

"Um, yeah . . . I um, ran away too," she said averting her eyes by
glancing at her feet and twirling the edge of her teddy between two
fingers.
"Surely there's more to it than that Marilyn said kindly, trying to
coax her into revealing a little more about herself.

The girl's head was still down but she raised her eyes to look at her
benefactor. "Um, my father left us when I was little. I don't think
I ever saw him. My mom took good care of me. Then she got sick. It was
the cancer, I think. Anyway they took her away and put me with the
Marshall's. Um," she paused and bit at an already gnawed
fingernail. "They were mean to me. I couldn't eat with them and
all's I got to eat was scraps from the leftovers."

Marilyn asked kindly, "How old are you, Evie?"

"I think I'm maybe thirteen or fourteen. I was born in 1985."

That would make you fourteen. What month and day, do you happen to
know?"

"Um, yeah, the 7th of March."

"So, you're fourteen then."

"Oh," she said as if this was new information.

"Go on with your story, please," Tucker said.

"Um, sure. Anyways, Martin, he was the oldest boy, he done me in the
cellar about two years ago. I kinda liked it after the first time which
hurt like the dickens. Then Hank, his brother caught us and I had to do
him too. We wuz doing it almost everyday and then . . ."

"Yes, child . . ." Marilyn said.

"I remember my belly started getting bigger and the day Mr. Marshall
saw me like that he beat me with a switch he kept in his bedroom. He
beat me across the back and then started on my belly. I wuz all cut up
and Mrs. Marshall told him to quit it and he did after a couple more
smacks. When she put something on my cuts I passed out. When I woke the
next morning Mrs. Marshall told me I'd killed the baby."

"What!" exclaimed both Marilyn and Tucker; Marcie's eyes were
wide as saucers. None of them had suspected the youngster had had a
child.

"She showed her to me. She was so tiny . . . wrapped up in the
newspaper. But when they . . ."

Evie started to cry and then her body was racked by a long series of
shudders. Marilyn held her close and whispered words of comfort to her
until she quieted.

"Sorry . . . I'm sorry . . ."

"There's nothing for you to be sorry about Tucker said, and Marilyn
noted his eyes were filled.

"I'm sorry 'bout my baby . . ." Evie managed to get out before
the sobbing began anew.

Sputtering and shuddering, she seemed determined to finish. "They . .
.they burned her! They stuck her into the wood-stove and burned her
like she wuz trash! Ohhhhhh, my little baby, what they done to her!"

"So I ran away that same day. I wuz crying all the time and didn't
know where I wuz half the time. I hitched to Wichita and got a job baby
sitting for a nice lady while she worked. But when she found me
sleeping in her yard she told me she couldn't have no runaway staying
with her and told me to go home. I took the first bus I seen and spent
eight dollars and got to Kansas City. I met this black kid there and he
took me in. He was really nice to me. More so after he seen the cuts
across my stomach and back. Ralphie wuz his name and we settled in
together. And then one day, maybe two months after we met, Somebody
shot him at the 7-eleven where he wuz workin'.
He died the following night and I took what money there wuz and left.
San Francisco wuz next; and this truck driver gimme a ride to the park
a few blocks away. That's all there is to tell."

"Marcie and I were taking a walk through the park when I saw her,"
Marilyn said to Tucker. "One look and I knew she needed my, excuse me
Marcie, our help."

Marcie ran a hand through her red hair and picked up the story. "We
brought her home with us and gave her a nice long bath, cleaned her
hair . . . she had lice, ya know, and then put this salve Marilyn has
on her marks. Look for yourself, you can't hardly see 'em
anymore."

"Marcie, use correct English please," Marilyn admonished gently.

"Oops, sorry about that. I mean you can hardly see the marks now."

"That's better and Evie, the word is was, not wuz. Was is spelled
W-A-S, while wuz is not a word but if it were it would be spelled
W.U.Z. do you understand?"

"Um, yes Lady Marilyn. Was, not wuz."

"We'll work on your grammar a little bit each day so that in time
you can be a lady like myself. Would you like that?"

"Oh, yes I would thank you so much for helping me," Evie was
beaming.

"Now," Marilyn said with a bemused smile, "I think Tucker here
left something in me. Would anyone like to help clean me up?"

Marcie won the race to get her head between Marilyn's legs and
commenced licking her vagina.
Evie, taking Tucker's erection by the hand, began to pull him into
the bedroom after her. He sighed and called over his shoulder to
Marilyn, ""I wonder how it will be to fuck a fourteen year old."
"Wonderful darling, wonderful. Just nibble on her first, then use
some fingers to help her open her petals for you. If shouldn't be
difficult . . . oh, child, do that again!" she cried out to Marcie
who was tonguing her. Both of Marilyn's hands were resting lightly on
Marcie's red hair.
"Sorry, tucker, I was about to say the Evie has already borne a child
so she should be capable of accepting that monstous shaft of yours."
Evie eyed his rigid shaft with suspicion as she lay on the bed and
forced herself to relax by picturing Marilyn on the counter impaled by
the monster in front of her. 'If she can take it so can I,' she
told herself and drew her legs up, spayed her knees outward, holding
herself open for him by placing her hands on the inside of her thighs
close to the knees; and then held her breath.
Tucker licked her pussy several times, really just wanting to taste and
savor her young pubis.
"Did you shave them?" He asked Marilyn.
Marilyn was busy humping her pelvis into marcie's face and didn't
respond.
"I said, did you shave the girl's cunts?"
"Um, keep doing that sweetheart," she said to Marcie who continued
to oblige her. "I'm sorry honey, yes I trimmed the girls and now
they shave one another weekly if needed. I like my pussy's to be nice
and smooth, like a baby's ass. Have you checked Marcie's heart out
yet?"
A moment later she shuddered and entered into a prolonged climax as
Marcie intensified her minstrations to her lady's cunt.
Tucker asked Evie if she was ready for him and she nodded tenetively,
"I guess. Let's try it and see."
He aimed his cock at her vulnerable slit, saying, "I'll go easy at
first. Try to relax, sweetheart."
Tucker was stunned at the ease with which Evie accepted his mamouth
prick. True he had to force the head past her vaginal ring of muscle,
and that caused her to wince, but going slowly, he found that she was
taking him in rather easily. He reached her cervix when approximately
eight inches were embedded inside her and backed out some two inches.
"Jesus," Evie gasped, "I feel bloated like I'm gonna have my
period. But that was last week so . . . "
Tucker began to fuck her, using a slow steady pace. And when Evie tried
to cran her neck to get a glimpse of the mighty prick surging into her,
Marcie sprang forward and slipped two pillows under her neck.
"Does that help any?" she inquired.
Evidently it did, for Evie's mouth dropped open and she took a deep
breath before saying, "Wow!"
"How does it feel Evie?" Marcie asked, thinking ahead to the time
when he would be hammering it into her own pussy. That caused her to
touch herself, running a finger over her clitoris. Her groan alerted
Marilyn who went to the dresser and removed a strap-on-dildo.
"Um . . . terrific! I'm full with him, like to bursting, and if it
didn't feel so good I'd think I was gonna bust wide open. But Jeez,
it  . . . it's terrific!"
Tucker gradually moved to longer strokes, each adding to the intensity
of their fucking. Evie's small fists were clenched in the sheets, her
eyes had closed, but snapped open when he took one of her small breasts
into his mouth and swirled his tongue over her petitte nipple.
Marcie found herself coming even before Marilyn had tied the strap-on
in place. When the older woman placed the head of the dildo at
Marcie's little heart-shaped auburn patch of pubic hair, the young
girl groaned and slowly sank to the floor, rolled onto her back and
spread her legs as far apart as possible. Marilyn knelt between her
thighs and sank the long plastic prick into Marcie's eagerly waiting
vagina.
Evie came twice before Tucker stiffened and began pumping her full of
thick, rich, protein. The fullness of her packed vagina made the sperm
squish out of her at the wafer thin edges of her labia. A minute or so
later, when Tucker began to ease himself from her, Evie placed her hand
around his cock, milking him as he withdrew. Then Evie began using her
fingers to scoop the seepage from around her pussy and licking her
fingers clean as she smiled lovingly at Tucker.
Meanwhile, Marcie thrashed about under the driving plastic cock, crying
out, "Yeah, yeah, that's it, that's it, Oh, baby, Yeah!"
Marily shifted position to gain deeper penetration. Marcie went
frantic, humping and clenching her fists. She cried, "Oh, God, Marilyn.
I love your cock. I love your mouth, I love your pussy!"
Marilyn waited until Marcie came, then tore the contraption from her
waist and fell upon the young girl like a lioness tearing into its
prey. Then Marcie was into it as well. The two fully aroused females
attacked each other's loins and shared dozens of orgasms over a
twenty-minute period, calling a halt only when they collapsed from
exhaustion. Each rolled away to their sides only to face each other,
but remained head to toe, toying with the swollen, dripping pussy so
close to their respective faces.
They each lay with the top leg cocked to facilitate the fondling of the
other's gentilia. In addition, Marcie played languidly with Marilyn's
large breasts while planting sucking kisses to Marilyn's clit
occainsioally running her tongue along the length of the lip of her
inner labia.
For her part, Marilyn while thoughly enjoying the attention, gave back
as good as she was getting. Spying the wetness seeping from Marcie's
pussy, she leaned in, languidly running her own tongue in and out of
Marcie's reddened pussy. This caused Marcie to raise her leg straight
up, pointing her toes at the ceiling. Marilyn took the opportunity to
swab the inner walls thoroughly before going back to kissing the outer
parts.
Marcie was panting now as another orgasm, this one seemingly glacially
slow hovered in the distance. Marilyn's cheek rested on Marcie's
inner thigh as she prepared for the final assault.
After a short silence, the older woman said, "I love your beautiful
pussy, Marcie."
"Yes, I know. And I love yours."
"Oh, I could do this forever," Marilyn sighed.
In answer, Marcia settled onto her back, sending her hands down to
present Marilyn with an even better spread to lick. Marilyn slowly
laved the entire area between Marcie's legs, then sent her tongue deep
into Marcie's hole and back out only to swab the girl's clit,
eliciting a long moan as Marcie's head bounced on the floor and
rolled from side to side as her orgasm smashed home.
Tucker and Evie watched the exciting sight of the two women devouring
one another, then Evie leaped into the fray, gripping Marilyn by the
hips and driving her face into Marilyn's spongy cunt. It took a
couple seconds before marilyn reacted, abandoning Marcie's pussy and
flailing her head to and fro, whipping her long hair as little Evie
tongued her to one gut-wrenching orgasm after another until both
collapsed exhausted.
When Marilyn finally opened her eys Tucker was putting on the last of
his clothes and the alarm clock on the bedside table said it was
ten-fiteen.
"Shit!" She exclaimed and forced her deadened legs to work as she
struggled to her feet. "I've got to meet whats-her-name at
eleven!"
"I can drop you off if you like," Tucker offered.
"Great, now if I can make myself presentable enough to appear in
public . . ."


If you enjoyed this story, I'd love to hear what you favorite part
was, or any other comments you may have.  Writing these stories takes
effort, and a minute or two of your time is all I ask for in return.
The_panda@hotmail.com

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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