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From: Thinking Horndog <im_a_thinker@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Mack's Mamas 04/08 [Thinking Horndog](MF Mf MMF M+F oral anal rough 1st ir)
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Date: Sat, 26 Jul 2008 06:10:02 -0400
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<1st attachment, "Macks Mamas_4.txt" begin>

Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: Mack's Mamas
Part: 4 of 8
Universe: Mack's Mamas
Summary: Pete stumbles upon Mack in a bar and discovers a serious gravy train

Keywords: MF Mf MMF M+F oral anal rough 1st ir

Chapter 4

	Things were quiet until Friday.  The 'Mack's friends' part of 'The
second month, you fuck Mack's friends until you can pay' got clarified then.
Mack held poker parties on Friday nights -- coincidentally in another condo in
my complex that wasn't where he lived -- and 'Mack's friends' were a rotating
group of guys that appeared around that table.  Sometimes, the attraction was
just poker -- but others, there was more serious items of entertainment.  This
month there were three:  Cindy, Charlene, and Irene.  Cindy was in Month Two
anyway -- and Charlene and Irene, being in Month Three, had Month Two
requirements layered underneath.

	Being Mack's partner granted an automatic invite.  Mack's words to me
were, "Take one home after if you want -- but who knows whether you'll want to
bother."  I pretty much figured he was talking about sloppy sixteenths or
something.

	I got there early, because Mack wanted it that way.  I watched from
the balcony as he pulled up in the Caddy and the women got out and he led then
upstairs.  Each was carrying a gym bag or a laundry bag, which I found
interesting.

	Each of them made a point of saying "Hi, Pete!" as they came in and
Cindy vamped me; "You're too damned popular," Mack groused.  I merely grunted.
Charlene, who was apparently acting as straw boss, led them off to one of the
bedrooms to drop their bags, then they headed back downstairs.  I ambled back
to the balcony with Mack to see them unloading food and booze from the car;
the first thing Mack had done on arrival was pour a scotch and water.  "Do you
play?" he asked.

	"Poker?" I clarified.  "I understand the basics, I think."

	"Good," Mack grunted.  "We need someone who can lose."

	"Gee, thanks!"

	Mack just grinned.

	The next half-hour or so was all about setting up the table and the
snacks and the drinks -- and the smokes.  We seemed to have every chip you
could think of and pretzels and dips and a bunch of other crap -- no vegetable
tray or anything that might be sort of healthy, though.  The closest thing to
that were the pickles and olives and onions and hot peppers in the nachos
Irene set up -- complete with spicy ground beef.  I knew what I was eating!  I
was pleased to see Irene sampling heavily from the pan -- and Mack, who was
supervising, not complaining about it.

	About seven-thirty, Mack grunted, "Awright, go get ready.  You can
fart around with the rest of this shit once you're dressed."  I discovered at
that point the the gym bags held nylons and garter belts and high heels -- and
held their arrival and departure outfits, too, in the interim.  Mack provided
the rest of the wardrobe; the closets held a bunch of those starchy maid
outfit skirts with the frilly under layers and the chests of drawers held red
fishnet body stockings.  Charlene apparently knew where everything was; I hung
out indolently in the bedroom door, mimicking Mack, while the women changed
clothes.  When they were done, Mack lined them up for a look.  There were no
bras, of course -- and no panties.  Nipples stuck through fishnet -- and
Cindy's dripped.  "Shit," Mack grumbled.  "You've got pads, right?"

	"Yes," Cindy nodded.

	"Stick'em under there -- but if anybody gets thirsty, give 'em a
drink."

	"Yes, Mack.  Are you going to wring me out again?"

	"Nah.  You enjoyed it too much."  He swept them with his eyes.  Irene
was shifting from foot to foot; Charlene managed to appear bored.  "Awright,
back to the salt mines.  Does anybody have any questions about what they'll be
doing tonight?"

	Charlene and Irene shook their heads, but Cindy raised a hand -- just
to see what it would get her, I think.  "I suppose I'll be serving..."

	"Ya think?" Mack rasped.  Irene let go a nervous giggle.  "You do what
I tell you.  If I tell you to suck a dick, I don't wanna hear nothing but wet
sloppy noises.  Later on, things will probably open up; if I tell you it's
open season, you do whatever ANYONE tells you.  Understand?"

	"Yes, Mack."

	"Relax, you'll love it.  We'll get somebody to cornhole you with a
bottle brush or something."  Mack grinned nastily.

                        -----------------------

	The others started wandering in between seven-thirty and eight.  Two
of them were our sales guys -- which surprised me a bit -- but, hey, they were
sales guys.  Bill, in particular, was a sleaze -- but he got the job done.
Bob -- well, I won't go into Bob.  Let's just say that there were occasional
indications that he had limits -- but this wasn't one.  Joe was a mechanic or
something (I later learned that he owned a junkyard) -- and looked it.  Mack
called him Joe Shit the Ragman -- or just Ragman.  I don't think I ever
learned his name.  He was a classic for having a woman look at him and say 'We
don't want any.'  He was big and beefy and there was no way you were going the
get the grime off of those hands.  Add a beer belly and a two-day beard and
shaggy hair and there you have it.  I'm sure he probably bathed before coming
over, and his coverall was clean, if frayed -- and the women were lucky that
he made the effort, I figured.  From a male perspective there really wasn't
anything wrong with him -- he was more authentically male than some.  But that
included the parts that tended to repulse females.

	Marty was a bookkeeper -- or maybe just a bookie.  He was over forty
and fat and balding -- and what hair he had was slicked back with some kind of
goo.  He was the loud sport coat type -- which I'd assumed was just a
stereotype up to that point.  Well, surprise, surprise...  Okay, so, he was a
little taller than Danny DeVito (not much), and he had a moustache -- but he
was wider, too, and had the attitude the actor was famous for. His first
comment was "Huh!  Same as last month.  Who's the fat bitch?"

	Mike the bartender showed up and looked a little sheepish; I could
sympathize.

	The last of the eight was a guy named Hugo, who was one of our general
contractors.  He looked like a Black - Hispanic mix, but talked like a
Caribbean islander from somewhere -- maybe Jamaica.  He was built kind of like
Buddha, and pretty genial.

	I leaned aside to Mack and said, "These are friends?"

	"Okay, business acquaintances," Mack grunted.  "I couldn't fill the
table with friends -- and if I could, some of them would be too broke to
play."  He looked around and grunted, "Awright, let's play some cards."  I got
a sketchy introduction and plopped down across the table from him between Bob
and Hugo -- and proceeded to lose my shirt.

	Well, it wasn't that bad -- nickel, dime, quarter stuff -- but I
wasn't winning.  Mack teased me and said I was too innocent and didn't have a
poker face.  Marty was all over me like a coat of paint; I spent a lot of time
wondering why his nose wasn't broken in six places.  I think he sensed that I
would have liked to volunteer -- and it amused him.  I got myself under
control, and when the barbs weren't visibly effective any more, he backed off.

	Three or four of them were smoking like chimneys -- and we were ALL
drinking something or another.  Early on, the women were just there to wait
tables -- maybe getting an ass rub while they stood next to somebody after
delivering a drink.  Cards, booze, and food were serious -- in that order.  I
got smarter, but more reckless -- too much beer.  Wins and losses started
getting spectacular.

	I think the first serious sex move was Ragman; he said, "So, how's
your ass, Baby?" to Cindy and I looked up to see her standing there beside
him, looking a little shaky and uncomfortable while Mack pinned her in place
with his eyes.  Ragman produced a finger that obviously had shit on it and
grunted, "Messy," then picked up a napkin and wiped it off and handed it to
her.

	Mack said, "Charlene, fix it," without removing his eyes from Cindy
and Charlene collected her and headed off somewhere.  In a few seconds, I
picked up a squawk of, "Jeezus!  An enema?" -- but it was time to call and I
had three queens...

	Cindy came back a few minutes later, walking a little hunched-over.
Mack gestured her over and made a production out of rubbing and patting her
belly -- after very little of which Cindy went, "Ooooooohhhh!" and ran for the
bathroom.  Yeah, I laughed, too.  Ragman gave the other two the bung test, but
they were clearly ready for it.

	Marty was the next one to push the envelope obviously -- I might have
missed more subtle goings-on, due to my state.  I'd backed off on the beer,
but I hadn't recovered.  He looked around and announced, "I'm up fifty, thanks
to Pete, so I guess I'll sit this one out and get in a little fun!"  He pushed
a stack of chips at Mack and turned to Irene.  "Come over here and see if you
can get me in that big mouth of yours -- balls and all, Bitch."  I gathered
from that that he wasn't hung.  Irene actually looked relieved while she went
over and dragged his pants down and buried her face between his thick thighs.
Marty rocked back so she could get under his pot.  He was a major distraction,
what with the moans and groans of pleasure and the crap he enjoyed himself
talking, so we basically stopped playing to watch -- not that it was great
porn, or anything.  He called Irene a nigger bitch and a slut and a coon and
anything else he could think of -- fortunately, Hugo was the closest we had to
her race and he didn't seem to mind.  She jerked him off while rolling his
balls around in her mouth and licking his nasty ass, then sucked him; I was
pretty sure it didn't count as deep throat, since he clearly wasn't hung.

	Probably the good news was that he only lasted a couple of minutes --
the whole thing was kind of disgusting, mostly from his approach to it.  He
insisted that she take his load on her face -- because she didn't deserve to
drink it, according to him.  I'd never understood why that seemed to be such a
great thing -- I assumed that they did it in porn so you knew the guy actually
blew a nut, although creampies served the same purpose.  Anyway, she sucked
him to his peak then sat there on her heels and let him decorate her face,
after which he was all happy -- clearly because he'd gotten even with the
female half of the human race for years of neglect.  I could see his point,
actually, but it seemed to be he was being sorry-assed about it.

	When he was done, Mack looked around and said, "Since we're takin' a
break, is anybody else gonna want to get a load off?"  I watched them; Bill
and Bob seemed content to wait, while Ragman thoughtfully riffled his chips,
counting them.  Mike sat back, watching, like me, and Hugo scratched his belly
reflectively.  Looking at this bunch, I had to admit a street hooker would
probably see dollar signs, but of the three we had only Charlene was really
close to that mindset.

	Ragman grunted, "You're gonna have to give me another twenty on my
limit, or I'll be so short you sharks will be able to close me down."  We were
playing with a hundred dollar limit and Mack and Marty and Bill had most of
the money.  By eyeball, Ragman was sitting on about sixty, so if he punched in
fifty, which seemed to be the going rate, he'd be down to ten bucks for cards.

	Mack looked around.  "Gents?  Any issues?"

	"More for me," Marty jibed.  Nobody demurred.

	Ragman fished a twenty out of his wallet and separated out the rest in
chips.  "You, Chunky.  Bend over the couch arm and we'll see how clean you
got."

	"Wear her out," Mack advised.  "She loves that shit.  Don't feel
guilty about making her ass red -- she loves THAT, too!"  Meanwhile, Cindy
minced over to the couch and bent over, watching Ragman as he got up and
headed her way, unbuttoning his coverall.

	"What's that shit over your nipples, anyway?" Ragman asked her.

	"I'm breastfeeding," she told him.  "They drip."

	Ragman took a surprised suck on his cigar.  "Milk?"

	"Yes."

	"No shit.  Take off your top, then.  I'm gonna get a drink."

	Cindy looked at Mack, who just looked back.  She got the hint and
undid the snaps at the crotch of the body stocking and worked it out from
under the skirt and over her head.

	"I'm gonna lay on the couch," Ragman told her.  "You climb on top and
feed me tit and pull on my dick and I'm gonna see if I can't dry them things
out for you."  In the meantime, he got his big, hairy hulk out of his coverall
and work boots.

	Hugo broke up things by rumbling, "Mebbe I get some from Charlene."
He sorted out some chips and got up to shamble over and tower over her.  "How
you want it?"

	Charlene, unfazed, replied, "It's on you, Honey -- it's your quarter."

	"Okay.  I go on the rug.  You suck a little then ride that
motherfucker," Hugo directed.

	"Fix me a drink, Irene," Mack directed.  "Anyone else want watered?"

	"Bring me a plate of those nachos," I interjected.  I needed food,
bad.  "Come to think of it, I'll eat at the bar."  I got up and ambled over
while Irene made Mack's drink and watched her reheat the nacho fixings so they
were fresh for me.  The bar gave me a view of both proceedings, anyway, and
they weren't the disgusting spectacle that Marty had been.

	If I'd had any doubts about Cindy's masochism, watching her with
Ragman put them to rest.  He wasn't gentle with her jugs -- but then, he was
watching her face the same as I was, and the pleasure mixed with the pain was
obvious in her expression.  Given her reactions, it didn't bother me.  He had
a cock that wasn't spectacularly long, but was as thick as a salami -- and we
all knew where it was going.  Cindy jacked it and grunted and groaned while he
milked her harshly; I figured she would have serious finger marks for a few
days, after.

	Hugo had some fairly serious meat, it turned out.  Charlene had no
problem getting him up and running, then she sat on it and started posting,
telling him how wonderful it was.  It was a pure hooker's performance -- I
didn't believe a word of it -- but that wasn't my problem, anyway.  It's
amazing to me that the little ones seem to be able to take the biggest dicks.
Hugo played with her nipples and more or less silently enjoyed himself.

	Irene put my plate out and I said "Thanks," to which she replied, "No
problem, Baby," and presented her lips for a kiss -- which I gave her.

	"You know where that mouth has been, right?" Marty jibed.

	"I figure she wasn't challenged any," I shot back.  There were several
chuckles, including Mack's.  Irene smiled but said nothing, coming around the
bar to settle within reach.  She wanted a little attention, so I gave it to
her, wrapping an arm around her and cupping a tit.  She ended up feeding me
nachos while we watched the floor show.

	When Cindy's tits were drained, Ragman had her get up and bend over
the couch arm, then he proceeded to push that soda can cock of his into her
ass using just a little spit as lube.  Cindy screamed bloody murder -- but the
look on her face said that she wanted it.  Mack got up and stuck two fingers
in her mouth to keep the volume down until Ragman got in and got going, then
he let her moan and groan to her heart's content.  Ragman made her ass red,
too, but that didn't seem to be a problem, either.  Mack wandered over and
settled against the bar beside me.  "She's gonna be a problem."

	I eyed him.  "That depends, doesn't it?  If she gets carried away and
misses four times..."

	"Yeah, you're probably right.  She isn't smart enough to do it right."
Mack eyed Irene while he said it.  I wasn't sure what she was supposed to take
away from the conversation; it could have been a personal warning, or just an
injunction not to tell Cindy, or both.

	Ragman grabbed Cindy's shoulders and crushed her back to him; she bent
her back, which was a mistake -- I was afraid he was going to fold her in half
ABOVE the waist -- while he arched into her and blew his nut up her ass.
"YAH!  SHIT!  GODDAMN!"  After he'd pumped her a couple of times, he let go of
her shoulders and she flopped forward.  Then he pulled out -- and Irene turned
her head away.  The reason was clear in about six seconds; Ragman stepped
around to where Cindy was puffing and blowing and stuck his dick in her mouth,
grabbing her head to make sure she didn't go anywhere.  "Yuck," Irene
whispered.

	"If you two cleaned her out properly, it shouldn't be too bad," Mack
grunted.  "Besides, she's done it before."  Cindy had her hands on Ragman's
hips, but she didn't seem to be fighting him.

	"That's it, Honey -- blow that load!" Charlene encouraged Hugo.  "Fill
me up!"  Hugo certainly looked to be doing his best, from the way he was
driving up into her from below, grunting.  When he settled down, Charlene
cycled up and down on him a few times, slowly, then hopped off and knelt to
give him a quick kiss then clean his cock, her hands between her legs to
staunch the flow of goo.  When she was done with that, she hopped up and
waggled her ass out of there to the bathroom, visibly putting another notch in
her lipstick case.  Hugo sat bolt upright to watch her go grinning.  "That be
good shit!"

	"So that's the deal?" I asked Mack.  "Fifty bucks a pop?"

	"For starters," Mack agreed.  "Any which way.  Later, they'll just
fuck; the guys are more or less paying for firsts or seconds.  After they're
all opened up, it's a free for all.  That's what some of those other vultures
are waiting for."

	"How far do you push it?"

	"For a while yet," Mack replied, lurching away from the bar.  "Let's
play cards!"

	So we went into the second round.  This time, the women were naked,
having been divested of their little outfits during the first round.  We
wanted things pretty regularly, as it was an opportunity to get grabby.  I
took an opportunity to pull Charlene's head down to my level and whispered,
"Did you get anything out of that?"

	She gave one of those Mona Lisa smiles of hers.  "Maybe later."  Well,
I'd more or less figured as much.  She held one of my hands to one of her
nipples for a bit, more to mask the conversation than anything else.  I
nibbled her neck a little and Mack growled at me to pay attention to the bet.

	Cindy stuck herself between Ragman and Bill and Ragman teased her by
poking a finger up her ass -- or maybe two.  She would whine a little about
how it hurt -- but she wouldn't go anywhere and she would suck his fingers
when he pulled them from her ass and presented them.  Bill made her spread her
legs while he stuck two rough fingers in her pussy.

	Eventually, Mack grunted, "You two gonna fuck around or play?"  That
put Bill on the spot.  I could read his mind; paying for pussy was a blow to
his ego and, theoretically at least, he had his own supply at home -- but he
wanted to abuse Cindy.  I watched him pull at his lip, then, "Fuck it."  He
kicked chips at Mack.

	"Take her over there -- we're still playing," Mack grunted.  "What
about you, Ragman?  Half price -- you've been in it once already."

	"Yeah, fuck it."  He kicked out twenty-five.  "What do you want,
Bill?"

	"Cunt."

	"Leaves me two holes..."  He stood to shamble toward the couch.  Bill,
who had been waiting, stood without removing the two fingers he had buried in
Cindy's twat and used them to lead her off.  I eyed Mack and folded; he was
too intent on the game not to have good cards.

	By the next hand, Cindy was squealing like a stuck pig into Ragman's
hand covering her mouth.  She was on her back with Ragman's cock up her ass
while Bill had some fingers in her twat and looked to be biting the shit out
of her clit.  She bounced and thrashed and squealed and I'd have been
concerned if I hadn't known better.  Eventually, Bill tired of that and
climbed on top to pound her pussy -- it was pretty distracting for some.  I
managed to keep my head and even won a hand before Bill blew a nut in her and
climbed off, stopping to feed her his gooey dick.  Then Ragman rolled her off
the couch and onto the floor where he took his second piece of her ass, taking
it no easier on her than he had the first time.

	This was all too much for Mike.  "Charlene," he croaked, "I need a
blow job."

	"Sure, Honey," Charlene replied, coming up from where she was leaning
on the bar, "Are you sure that's all you want?  There's pussy...  Ass seems
popular..."

	"We'll start with a blow job."  Having separated out the necessary
chips, Mike slid back from the table and stood up to shuck down his pants.  I
sat and watched Charlene go to her knees and take him in quite professionally,
bobbing and sucking and jacking and fondling his balls.  I didn't give Mike
three minutes.

	"Get over here, Bitch," Marty snapped, and Irene headed over to him.
"How's your ass?" he asked, once he'd sorted out the necessary chips.  Marty
could afford it; he was still doing very well.

	"That's an opinion thing," Irene replied.  "You know he did me before.
Hurt, too.  But it's been a while -- I've recovered."

	"Yah?  Good enough.  Over the couch arm, then, Bitch."

	I kept an eye on them -- largely because the biggest thing on Irene
was probably her butt and Marty hadn't surfaced a lot of dick.  He managed to
make it work, though.  Soon he was pounding away, apparently adding to his
enjoyment by calling Irene stuff like 'worthless nigger bitch' and 'useless
black slut.'  Clearly, that was Marty's thing -- establishing his supremacy by
abusing others.  It was a chunk of everything he did.  There was no way that
he was ever going to fuck Charlene, because there was no way he could
penetrate her aloof self-confidence.  Cindy might be another matter, but that
would be because Cindy WANTED the bottom.  Since this was neither the time nor
the place to confront Marty with what an asshole he was, I put it away and
played cards.  With Bill off recovering and Ragman still in Cindy's ass and
Mike getting his head, that left me, Mack, Hugo, and Bob.  About that time, I
realized that Bob was there to play cards -- well, and watch, maybe, but his
dick was going to stay in his pants.  Since everyone else was either drunk or
distracted, he was starting to do well.  The realization made me more wary of
him -- and I did better as a result.

	Ragman finally finished tearing Cindy a new asshole, getting up and
wandering off to the bathroom without the ritual of shoving his dirty dick in
her mouth.  Marty didn't last much longer, and to my surprise, he forbore,
too, so I figured the silly season was probably over.  That left Mike -- and
Charlene was in concert with his skin flute.  She had him wrapped up tight,
sitting on the edge; I figure it was a matter of pride with her.  If all he
wanted was a blow job, he was gonna remember HERS for quite some time...  She
was changing up speeds, pumping, licking, bobbing to different depths
(including root deep) playing with poor Mike's balls...  You could tell he was
in an agony of pleasure -- she was holding him just below the peak!

	Mack let the exhibition go on for maybe fifteen minutes before
grunting, "Charlene, finish him."  Charlene dove on him and I'm pretty sure
she fingered his asshole; Mike flopped like a fish and let out a yell and she
was swallowing, sucking him dry.  When he flopped back and she stood up,
smiling, Mike couldn't get up energy to say anything; he just waved at her.
She waved back and swayed off, wiggling her well-used ass.  A couple of us
laughed, but we were all aware that she could probably handle us all by
herself.

	Desultory card play went on for another hour or so, then Mack said,
"Time for dessert, I think."  I got it from the context; we cashed in and got
our winnings -- or the leftovers, depending upon how well we did.  I broke
about even, my early losses covered by later wins.  The women packed away the
chow and the beer and were about finished when Mack waved grandly and said,
"Go get 'em, Boys..."

	I stayed where I was, as did Bob and Mack.  Hugo dragged Cindy out of
the kitchen, rolled her on her back, and proceeded to put the meat to her --
where it belonged, this time.  Bill hauled Charlene out for similar.  Mack
eyed Ragman and Marty, but Marty bit off the tip of a cigar and spat.  "I've
had enough shit for tonight.," he announced.  "Time to head home.  A pleasure,
as always, Mack."  He swept out regally -- the King of the Pissants.

	Ragman eyed Irene for a minute, then grunted, "I'm a little sore.
Bring me another beer, willya?"  Irene complied.  Ragman knocked it back
pretty quickly, though, before sliding back into his coveralls and heading out
the door with barely a wave.

	Mike got up and said, "I gotta open by noon.  I'll see you guys
tomorrow," and headed out.  Bob waited until the sex on the floor was over
(Hugo lasted the longest) and said, "Thanks for the beer and cards and
entertainment, Boss," saluted, and hit the street.  We'd had a quiet moment
and I'd asked him why he wasn't in there swinging.  He looked a little
embarrassed and said, "Margaret likes to hear the stories -- it spices up
things for us.  But I take it home to her."

	The other two cleared out as soon as they'd cleaned up, properly
appreciative, leaving Mack and I and the women.  "I'm gonna go take a nap,"
Mack announced.  "Pete, you wanna run the girls home?"

	Somehow, I knew that shit was coming.  "Yeah, sure, Mack.  Get your
shit, ladies."

	"Give us a minute for first-aid, Pete," Charlene chuckled, hauling
Cindy off to the bathroom.

	I followed Irene to the bedroom and watched her change clothes.  "Mack
and his butt-hole buddies," she complained.  "That big motherfucker did me
last time -- I was afraid I was gonna have to wear a diaper for the rest of my
life!"

	Cindy and Charlene came out of the bathroom, Cindy moving slowly.
"Thank God Hugo finally found my pussy!"

	"Bill did, too, didn't he?" I asked.

	"Well, yeah..."  Clearly, it hadn't been enough.

	On the way home, I remarked, "You seemed unfazed, Charlene."

	She shrugged.  "Some of those guys are never going to get a steady
woman.  I figure pussy owes them.  I was decorating a Harley at fifteen and
I've fucked just about everything -- if it cuts down on the shit that happens
when guys like that do without, and they're willing to pay my bills..."

	I blinked.  "What was that about shit happening?"

	"Rapists and murderers and child molesters are desperate men,"
Charlene amplified.  "I don't know of anything that makes a guy desperate like
going too long without a fuck.  They get angry at the whole other half of the
human race and, well, shit happens."

	"That's an interesting perspective," I observed.

	"It's the real thing," Charlene insisted.  "Ride with a gang for a
while and you see what's mellow and what isn't.  It applies to just about all
guys.  The world is full of stupid jackasses who are against the idea of
making getting your rocks off an easy, inexpensive proposition -- and most of
'em subscribe to dating services.  They hear stories on TV about some poor
dick going nuts on people or rapists or serial killers or child molesters and
they wonder, 'Gee, why did he do that, do you figure?' -- and it's right there
in front of their faces; they legislated away every sexual outlet the poor
fuck had and he exploded!"

	I shook my head.  "You make a compelling case."

	"Look at that asshole Marty -- do you think he's EVER gonna score on a
woman who isn't both blind AND deaf?" Charlene chuckled.  "Gee, Irene, do you
think he maybe has a grudge against women?"  Irene snorted laughter despite
herself.  "Then there's Ragman.  I've fucked big bears like him forever, and
they're usually pretty mellow -- but they don't attract chicks.  He's getting
bitter -- but the REAL reason he does girls in the ass is because that cock of
his takes a lot of work to get in a pussy!"

	"Really?" I asked.  "I thought..."

	"Yeah, Honey, they get bigger -- with practice.  I can take him -- but
he probably wouldn't believe it.  As a rule, Ragman is only gonna manage to
chase down blubbery chicks with the same problem he has with lackanookie --
and they AREN'T practiced."  When the laughter died down, she told Cindy,
"Next time, go up and whisper in his ear that you want him to fist you.  Once
you're open, he'll hit the front end -- want to bet?"

	Cindy looked thoughtful.  "Um, no, no bet."

	"He'll be a good ride for a few times," Charlene opined, "but he's not
your type, Cindy.  Once he's gotten in the groove, he'll mellow out and be a
big teddy bear; he doesn't have the mean streak you're looking for.  It seems
like it now, but that would fade and you'd be... unsatisfied."

	"What do YOU know about it?" Cindy snapped.

	"I've been there, Honey," Charlene replied softly.  "I've been there."

	We arrived at the first house and Charlene and Cindy got out; Irene
got out, too, but pulled open the front passenger door instead of walking off.
"Pete?"

	"Yeah."

	"You busy?"

	As it turned out, I wasn't.

<1st attachment end>


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