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Subject: {ASSM} The Great Blowjob {Varkel} [2/5] (MMFF MMfff FFmm mf)
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Date: Fri, 28 Oct 2011 19:10:03 -0400
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The Great Blowjob
a Novelette by Varkel
Fall, 2011


*Part 2 of 5*


Between them the two couples, still airborne, drank three bottles of 
beer.  "Should we hang on to what's left?" asked Lacey, clutching one 
while the swirling wind plucked at it.

"It's all we've got to drink," Claire pointed out.  "God knows how long
this ... flight will last."

"I doubt we have to worry," said Blake.  "When this tornado gets tired 
of us, the landing is gonna be rough."

"Anyway we don't have anywhere to keep it," said Lacey.

"Under the top sheet?" Claire suggested.

It was a fitted sheet whose elastic had surrendered years ago and so was
safety-pinned to the mattress, likely the only reason it was still 
attached to the bed.  But Lacey shook her head.  "If you undo the pins 
we'll lose the sheet."  She smiled.  "I know where we can keep _two_ 
bottles."  She spat into her palm, wet the bottom half of her bottle and
worked it into her pussy, looking up with a triumphant grin when only 
the neck and cap protruded.

"God, yes!" agreed Claire.  "You liked to do that at frat parties too."

Lacey grinned.  "So did you."

Nodding, Claire performed the same involution.

The men goggled, craning their necks.  Holding up the third, Fred said,
"What about this one?"

Claire leered.  "You've got just the pocket."

He shook his head with certainty.  "Not me."

Blake suggested, "His cunt is inside-out."

"But his asshole isn't."

Fred peered at the bottle fearfully.  "Put this thing up my ass?"

Lacey grinned hugely.  "As you told me years ago, Fred, you've shat 
bigger than that."

Fred shook his head.  "Not without a quart of Vaseline.  I've got 
another spot."  He twisted off the cap, turned the bottle up and 
chug-a-lugged it down.

"Selfish prick!" snarled Lacey.

Fred was saved from further disgrace by the sudden arrival of a large 
cloth item that bowled among them, knocking them apart.  Lacey nearly 
rolled off the bed but caught the bedsheet in time to stop her torso 
slide.  The green cloth item was well padded, probably explaining their
lack of serious injury.

Groggily regaining his senses, Blake cried, "What the hell is this?"

Claire, smoothing out the cloth, said, "Here's a zipper.  I think ...  I
think it's a sleeping bag."

"Well, then, unzip it."

She obeyed.  When the upper halves parted, however, a human head arose 
from within.  It was beardless, probably a young female with stringy, 
washed-out blonde hair and blue eyes.  She peered around at the nude 
people and the sky full of whirling junk then said something inaudible.

"Speak up!" ordered Blake.  "This isn't Sunday School."

She said in an indignant soprano, "I know that!  It's Saturday.  But am
I dead?"

"Not yet.  What are you doing in that sleeping bag?"

"Sleeping.  What else?"

"On a Saturday afternoon?"

"Had a fight with my campmates and went off in the woods."

"Of course, dear," said Lacey sympathetically, "and huddled down for a 
good cry.  How old are you?"

The newcomer looked from one to the other.  "How old do I have to be?"

Blake laughed.  "To ride a tornado with four awful sinners?  That takes
real age!"

Her chin rose.  "I'm thirteen and a virgin."

He drew back.  "What?  You admit it?"

The girl sat up further in the bag and studied the four of them 
carefully.  "What's really happening?"  She wore a bikini top that had 
little to conceal.

"As best we can tell," said Claire, "we've been caught up in a huge 
tornado.  What's your name, honey?"

"Florrie.  Florence Nightwall."

"I'm Claire Bingham.  This is my husband, Blake.  The other two are Fred
and Lacey Carter.  You stay in that bag.  Its padding offers a little 
protection."

"But it's hot.  I'm glad to meet you folks.  Did you know the storm was
coming?"

"We didn't pay attention."  Claire grinned.  "As Blake says, we were 
busy sinning.  Did you know about it?"

"The counselors said we had a tornado watch.  When the sky got black, I
zipped up my bag and went to sleep."

"In a tent?"

"Yeah.  Then I just sailed up into the air.  People talk about folks 
doing that in something called the 'Rapture.'  Is this it?"

"Some of us -- you, for example -- may be on your way to heaven," said 
Lacey dryly, "but if so this is just the start."

Florrie's face grew solemn.  "No, not me."

Blake chuckled.  "You a sinner too?"

Her eyes glinted.  "But I'm thirteen and a virgin."

"Okay."  He spread his hands.  "Despite how we look, Florrie, we don't 
intend to change that."

Florrie's expression became intent.  "What if I ..."

"What if you what?"

"Took all my clothes off too?"

Blake studied her with a twinkle.  "Have you heard, 'When in Rome, do as
the Romans do?'"

Without speaking, the girl rose to her knees and divested herself of 
both bikini halves, which she thrust back into the bag.  Her face was 
plain and adorned with a yellow zit on one cheek.  Her body was lean but
curving, with thick pubes, also pale blonde, shaven enough for a bikini
or a tufted Mohawk.  She had just enough body fat to cover her ribs.  It
was a pleasing figure despite the shallow mammaries.  Her nipples were 
pink lumps.

"You look thirteen," judged Fred, "except for that thick hair.  You 
really a cherry?"

"I really am."

"Show us."

The girl's eyes narrowed.  The adults expected her to refuse with a 
blush, but she pointed to Lacey.  "I'll show _you_," and reclined on her
back in the bag.

The others looked around with raised eyebrows while Lacey bent to pry 
apart the well-haired labia.  "Yeah, she has her maidenhead -- not that
it makes any sense."

"What's wrong with it?" asked Florrie aggrievedly.

Claire's lip curled.  "You're brazen for a thirteen year-old.  Are you 
sure you're not eighteen?"

Lacey backed away, adding incredulously, "An eighteen year-old virgin?"

"It's possible," said Blake doubtfully.

"Nowadays?" said Lacey.  "Tell us, Florrie, where's your home?"

The girl's lips hardened.  "In the Sand County orphanage."

Blake's eyes widened.  "_Any_ virgin is incredible there!"

Claire grinned.  "Just last year they proved the director was a 
pedophile."

Lacey said, "Didn't he like you, Florrie?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

Fred shook his head.  "I can't believe you people: badgering a teenager
when we're all about to die."

"What badgering?" asked Blake.  "Florrie, do you want to die a virgin?"

"No!" the girl declared.

He grinned.  "Maybe we can fix that."

But Claire laughed.  "If you can get it up in a tornado."

The bed lurched and rocked, distracting Blake from the nubile young body
before him.  The girl screamed and everyone clutched their handfuls of 
bedsheet.

Claire's eyes widened.  "It feels like we're falling!"

Indeed it did.  The circle of debris seemed to be enlarging and the 
screaming wind was definitely easier.

"Hang on," cried Blake, "unless we get flipped over."

For the first time they could see through the swirling fog.  Lacey 
closed her eyes and ducked her head: the sight was sickening.  Patches 
of blue sky, greenish land and what resembled blue water whirled all 
around them.  With a squeal Florrie dived back into her sleeping bag and
zipped it up.

"We need to pray!" declared Lacey, arms wrapped around her head.

Fred said, "What good would that do?"

"What else is there?"

Claire sniffed.  "Pray, you say?  To Who -- or what?  God sent the 
tornado."

Blake threw his arm over Claire's shoulder and crushed a big handful of
bedsheet with the other hand.

Lacey screamed, "We're gonna hit any sec--"

A thunderous crash stifled her speech.  All of them bounced but held on
to the bedsheet with death grips.  The mattress lifted off the bed but 
fell back, bearing them with it and destroying the bed frame.  It was a
top-of-the-line innerspring mattress and it bounced them again.  Two 
beer bottles emerged unbroken among them.  Florrie and her sleeping bag
were thrown off the bed but landed beside it.

Dazedly they looked around.  After taking a couple of breaths Fred ran 
his hand over Lacey's grapefruit-sized tit.  "God, we're alive!" he 
exclaimed in awe.

"Are you sure?" demanded Claire.  "Where'n hell do you think we _are_?"

"Not in hell!"  Blake rose up on his extended hands, eyes glaring 
wildly.  "On the beach!" he declared.

The others sat up.  Their mattress was perched at a slant atop a mound 
of furniture in the corner of a painted inside wall that blocked the 
view in two directions.  In the others, beyond scattered debris that 
seemed to be mostly crumpled drywall and house furniture, interspersed 
with splayed-open books, was gray-green brush and ocean waves.  The wind
had almost died, rustling the bushy leaves only slightly, and the 
predominant sound was that of surf crashing on a beach.  As they stared
the sun came out briefly before ducking behind another scudding cloud, 
easily visible because no roof interfered with sight of the sky.

"How can that be?" demanded Lacey.  "The beach is 40 miles away!"

Claire giggled.  "How far was Oz from Kansas?"

Blake said, "I don't know which one of you is Dorothy, but this isn't 
the Emerald City.  It's the beach, one of the barrier islands, I 
expect."

Claire's eyes widened and her humor vanished with a gasp.

"What's the matter?" asked Blake.

She pointed.  "That ... couch is moving!"

Clearly it was a couch or settee, covered in false leather, cushionless,
perched precariously between two mounds of trash.

Blake guessed, "Somebody's under that!"

The two men rose to their feet and picked their way over the debris 
toward it.  As they approached Greg and Jason threw off the object, 
which tumbled away backwards, revealing the four students.  The men 
stared, thinking at first the four were also naked.

Blake stood over them.  Having grown accustomed to the screaming wind, 
though reduced now to a mere zephyr, he yelled, "Is anyone hurt?"

Dorothy rose on her elbows.  All four students gawked at the two men.  
The boys covered their pubes while the girls concealed their breasts.

Jason goggled.  "You're not from the school!"

"'School?'" repeated Fred.

Linda declared with certainty, "They weren't in the dorm!"

"They're naked," said Greg.

"So are you," said Blake.  "I guess none of you is hurt."

"No," said Linda, "and we can hardly believe it."

Jason got to his feet and stared past the men.  "That's the beach!"

Blake said to Fred.  "Let's look around for anybody else."

As the two men moved away, the other three students stood up.  "It _is_
the beach!" said Greg.

"Oh, we're in trouble!" declared Dorothy.

"'Trouble?'" said Jason.

"We're restricted to the dorm this weekend."

Linda grinned at her and gestured at the fallen couch.  "We're still in
the dorm, or what's left of it."

Thirty feet away the two women had risen off their mattress, found and 
unzipped Florrie's sleeping bag and helped the girl emerge from it.  She
was dizzy but unharmed.

She glanced around.  "Where are the guys?"

"They went to check on those four," said Claire, tilting her head at the
students.

Florrie gazed all around.  "Are we at the beach?"

"Looks like it."

"How'd we get _here_?"

Lacey grinned.  "Did you ever hear of the _Wizard of Oz_?"

"Saw the movie.  Oh!  You mean ..."  She took a deep breath.  "The 
tornado ..."

"Brought us here," Lacey completed, "just like Dorothy."

"My god!"

Claire had been watching the four students.  She said, "Let's go meet 
the Ozzians."

Florrie peered.  "Are they naked too?"

"Looks like it.  Well, the girls are wearing bras and panties."

The three moved delicately over the rubble, careful of their bare feet.
The students turned toward them as they approached.

Lacey smiled.  "Hello, there!  Did the storm destroy your home?"

"'Our home?'" Jason repeated.  "We were in the dorm."

"What's that?" said Lacey.  "You don't mean 'dormitory.'"

"Yes, I do."

Both women looked around with wide eyes.  Claire said, "I don't believe
a college was here."

Lacey grunted.  "How could kids learn anything at the beach?"

"Oh, wow!" murmured Florrie.

Jason shook his head.  "Are we really at the beach?"

"You hear the surf, don't you? Then I take it you're not citizens of Oz
either."

The students goggled at her.  Jason grinned.  "Oz?  That's what they 
call Australia on Facebook."

Linda declared, "I know we didn't come_ that_ far!"

Although his hands still covered his pubes, Greg drew himself up.  
"We're from the Christian Leadership College in Sand County."

"We're from that county too," said Claire: "the town of Walton."

"Except me," said Florrie.  "I was camping in Brooke County.  What were
_you_ guys doing?"

"Sitting on a couch in the dorm, chatting," said Linda, pointing.  "That
couch."

"We were taking a shower," said Jason, indicating Greg with his thumb.

Claire chuckled.  "Together?"

Both boys blushed, the color appearing on their chests as much as their
faces.

Linda's eyes narrowed after raking the nude women from top to bottom.  
"What were _you_ doing?  Is this a nudist colony?"

Claire's chuckle subsided to a grin.  "Like you, we were having a little
party."

Dorothy's eyes had rounded.  "God wanted us to join you."  She undid her
brassiere and passed it over her head.

"Don't be silly," said Greg.  "He wouldn't smash a whole town to do 
that."

But Dorothy was convinced.  She shoved her panties down while declaring,
"It's exactly what He'd do!  Remember Sodom and Gomorrah?"

"What do you mean?" asked Greg, startled by her fervor.

"He smashed two whole towns just to get Lot moving on."

Jason actually chuckled.  "So Sand County was like Sodom?"

"Maybe Gomorrah," suggested Lacey, intrigued.  "I know the sheriff."

"Your god is a whimsical fellow," muttered Claire dryly.  "I never heard
of the Christian Leadership College."

Greg said, "It bought the Grace College grounds and added two floors 
onto the dorm."

Claire nodded.  "I heard of Grace.  It was a girls' school."

Lacey added, "That went broke when it wouldn't admit boys."

Greg gawked at Dorothy.  "You think God hit CLC for letting boys in?"

Jason grinned.  "He didn't object to _us_."

Linda laughed.  "Maybe you don't qualify."

"Oh, yeah?"  Jason pointed to his cock.  "Then what's that?"

"Taking a shower together," she explained.

Again the boys blushed.

The two men returned to the group.  Blake announced, "No one else is 
under all this trash.  We five appear to be the only ones on the 
flight."

"Nine," Lacey corrected.  "These four kids were in the dorm at Christian
Leadership, which is what they call Grace College these days."  She 
waived her hand.  "Some of this mess -- that couch at least -- came with
them."

Blake looked carefully at the four students, squinted at Dorothy's now 
total nudity and shook his head.  "That's incredible!  Who ever heard of
a tornado transporting people 40 miles and leaving them unhurt?"

Claire said, "One took Dorothy to the Emerald City."

"Who?" asked Dorothy.  "My name is Dorothy."

"There you go," said Claire with a chuckle.

"I think it was _two_ tornadoes," said Greg.  "More stuff landed a few 
minutes after we did."

"In any case," said Lacey, "I think introductions are in order."

She named the four adults and Florrie.  Linda acknowledged and named the
four students.

Linda said, "Florrie, you were camping out?"

"With a lot of other kids, but I was alone in a tent when the storm 
came."

"Naked?" said Jason, cocking his head.

"No," she responded shortly without explanation.

Linda tossed her head.  "It seems to be the new style."  Hands behind 
her, she popped her brassiere off and reached for her panties.

Jason admired the newly exposed breasts, almost handfuls even if not so
ample as those of the women.  "You think Dorothy had a point?"

"What point?" asked Blake, also studying the exposure critically.

"She said God wanted us to join you and took off her underwear."

"Did she!  I _thought_ she was wearing something when we met."

Dorothy mused, "A naked man isn't pretty, exactly, but ..."

Blake grinned.  "They teach that in your college?"

She said still pensively, "They teach to submit to God's will."  She 
waived around them.  "That's what this is."

Greg suggested, "Maybe we ought to hold a church service."

Claire said scornfully, "A _what_ service?  I think we better start 
looking for food and something to drink.  All we've got are two beers."

Blake stared at the students.  "Are you sure none of you kids is hurt?"

After a moment's introspection Jason said, "Not even a scratch."

"That's incredible!" declared Blake.

"Like everything else here," agreed Claire.  "Do you have any idea 
exactly where we are?"

"Everybody look all around, see if you spot anything familiar."

They stood atop a large dune.  On one side of it was a 200-yard wide 
beach of pale sand, where long lines of surf thudded and foamed and a 
flight of gulls sailed overhead.  On the other dark green bushes of 
tangled foliage bunched taller than a man, receding inward in stationary
waves of their own.  A steady breeze, blowing from the water, rippled 
the leaves.  Above them the huge mass of clouds was scudding swiftly 
across the sky, quartering out to sea.  The sun appeared with increasing
frequency.  The beach was straight from one horizon to the other with 
undifferentiated bushes opposing the seascape.  Neither tree nor 
landmark was discernible and no boat broke the sea's horizon.

Lacey muttered, "How can this be?"

"What do you mean?" asked Claire.

"I didn't think any beach was left without vacation houses everywhere 
you look."

Blaire suggested, "Some of the Outer Bank islands are too hard to reach
for development.  And there's a 30-mile national park above Cape 
Hatteras."

"If it's the seashore park," said Claire, "there should be a paved road
beyond those bushes."

Blake said, "Which we might find if we could get through the bushes."

"Naked," added Fred.

Lacey said, "Do any of you kids have clothes here?"

Jason and Greg kicked over some low mounds of debris: books, insulation,
construction materials.  "Don't look like it," said Jason.

"Oh, god, the sun!" said Claire.  "It'll burn us alive."

Linda regarded the women inquisitively.  "Don't _you_ have any clothes?"

Lacey looked around, shook her head and grinned.  "The tornado rode us 
on our bed.  I guess we have one king-sized bed sheet."

Linda's eyes narrowed.  "Rode you on the same bed?"

Instead of blushing Lacey grinned wider.  "Like you under the same 
couch."

Florrie said, "I have my sleeping bag."

Blake stood with hands on hips.  "In a few minutes that sun will come 
out to stay."  He looked at his undamaged wristwatch.  "And it'll be 
high for hours yet.  We've got to find shelter for you females at 
least."

"What we _need_," said Claire, "is to call for rescue.  Do any of you 
guys have cell phones by any chance?"

Linda said, "The college doesn't let us use them.  Don't _you_ have 
some?"

"Sure, but we didn't take them to bed."

"To bed?" repeated Dorothy as if puzzled.

"In the middle of the day!" noted Linda with a snicker.

"Were you sick?" asked Dorothy with a sympathetic look.

"Far from it," said Fred, grinning at her.

"Then what were you doing ...  You ...  Oh."  Dorothy blushed furiously.

"You guessed it," said Fred, grinning wider.  "The big H."

Jason's eyebrows rose.  "Hot?  Heavy?"

"The shape, not the initial.  You four could make it."

The youth licked his lips in speculation.

Linda said, "Let's go down to the water."

"Okay!" Dorothy agreed with a smile, turning toward the surf.

Claire cautioned, "Maybe you ought to wait till the sun is lower."

"I can't wait," said Linda positively.

"Neither can I," said Lacey, "not much longer."

"Good idea!" agreed Jason, stepping over debris.

"Hold it," said Claire.  "This time is girls only."

He spun around, eyes wide: "What --?" then added sheepishly, "Oh."

Blake said, "Guys, let's find something to use for shade.  We can start
with our bed sheet."


* * *


The five nude females squatted among the wavelets above the surf and 
took their relief.  "Ah-h-h," sighed Linda, "that feels good."

Lacey grinned at her.  "More room out than in."

"This water is cold," complained Dorothy as a wave, inches taller than 
the usual, splashed her dangling cheeks.

"Too cold to swim?" challenged Florrie with a smirk.

Dorothy lowered her face.  "I don't know how."

"You get used to cold quick," said Florrie, rising to her feet and 
taking a stride forward, where she paused, staring at the empty 
immensity before her.

Claire warned, "Don't go out far enough to swim on a deserted beach," 
and added with a snicker, "unless you can handle sharks better than 
cocks."

Florrie sniffed around at the woman.  "Oh, I know how to _handle_ them."

"Better than _what_?" asked Linda, eyes widening.

Claire chuckled.  "Florrie was telling us about life at Sand Orphanage."

"'Better than --'  You _don't_ mean ..."

Claire continued, "Where the director was a pedophile but Florrie kept 
her cherry."

Florrie explained grumpily, "He liked preteens."

"Wasn't that you?  You said you're now thirteen."

Florrie looked away.  "They told me it hurts."

Dorothy regarded the girl with interest.  "Does she mean you're a 
virgin?"

"Yeah."

"How could she tell?" asked Linda with raised eyebrows.  "Is she your 
aunt, maybe?"

"I showed her.  Well, I showed that one -- Lacey."

"Oh, good!" enthused Dorothy.  "Then you could attend CLC with us."

"You mean your college?"

"All freshmen have to be virgins, like us, to prove we abstain."

"Abstain?"  Florrie giggled.  "How did they tell about the boys?"

Dorothy looked puzzled.  "I don't know."

Linda said matter-of-factly, "Take their word, of course.  It's a 
question on the entrance form."

"Let me get this straight," said Claire, tongue in cheek.  "You two 
girls are both virgins and so are the boys, as far as you know?"

"I'm sure they are," said Linda airily.

Claire smiled at Lacey.  "Isn't this nice?"

Lacey's eyes lit.  "For we know who!"

Linda said, "What do you mean?"

Florrie had turned back to the others.  She crossed her arms over her 
inadequate chest and said thoughtfully, "Maybe _they_ know how.  They 
and you."

"You can believe it!" declared Lacey.

Linda's face contorted.  "_What_ are you talking about?"

"Becoming unencumbered," said Claire, grinning hugely.  "I assure you 
girls that it's no advantage.  Once it may have been but certainly not 
nowadays.  And for boys that state of ignorance is deplorable."  She 
winked at Lacey.  "Or an opportunity for the right persons."

Linda grimaced.  "'Right persons?'  I _still_ don't know what you're 
taking about!"

Florrie's eyes narrowed.  "I think she means 'teachers.'"

"Teachers of what?  And what's 'no advantage?'"

Florrie looked away.  "Virginity.  And how to lose it."

Linda blinked, stricken silent.

"With our advice," suggested Claire, "our husbands can easily overcome 
that little problem for you.  As for the boys, well ..."  She took a 
breath.  "Why do wonderful opportunities always come with such strings?"

Lacey huffed.  "I'd say _ropes_."

"'Strings?'" echoed Florrie.

"Instead of playing with each other ...  Here we are, plopped down 
bare-assed in the middle of nowhere, without a sign of human habitation
from horizon to horizon.  What are we going to eat?  Where can we find 
shelter even from the sun, not to speak of cold nights and storms?  What
do we do when one of us gets her next period?  How are we going to 
signal for rescue?"

Dorothy pointed away from the water.  "Is that what they're doing?"

They turned to look across the strand.  The two boys were erecting a low
awning between sticks, made with  a flapping bedsheet.  One of the men 
crouched at a dancing flame while the other stood upwind, hand directing
his piss upon it.  Smoke was already billowing downwind.

"He's peeing too," said Dorothy innocently.

"How did they start a fire?" asked Claire in amazement.


* * *


When the females returned to the crash site, they found the situation 
improved.  Blake said, "Look here."

"What is it?" said Claire, picking her way to where he stood beside a 
large opened chest.

"Somebody's emergency supplies, I think.  It's got everything, or damn 
near: canned and packaged food, bottled water, tools, cord, pain pills 
and even a flashlight with extra batteries."

"Is that all?  No clothing?"

"Well, it has some cloth in the bottom that might be wearable.  You can
look at it after a while."  He lowered his voice below the rustle of the
wind.  "Let's keep these kids naked for a while."

Matching his tone, she said with a twinkle and an ironic twist of her 
lips, "The boys too, of course."

He grunted.  "I saw you watching the tall one with the big dong."

"Both Lacey and I.  It promises to be larger than either yours or 
Fred's."

"Huh!  Have you forgot women don't care about size?"

She blinked with pretended surprise.  "How could I forget that?"  She 
looked at the fire, now blazing higher with billowing white smoke.  "I 
can imagine what that smells like downwind.  Really, Blake, pissing on 
your own fire!"

"Hoping to attract attention."

"Does keeping the kids naked square with getting rescued?"

He blinked sheepishly.  "You have a point."

Lacey and the three girls drew near.  The woman said, "What's in the 
chest besides matches?"

"Quite a bit," said Blake.  He lifted a gallon jug of clear liquid that
was sitting beside the chest.  A pasted on label identified the contents
as H2O.  "Still thirsty?"

"That was in the chest?"

"Yeah, but no cups.  I guess whoever this belonged to planned to share 
it only within his family."

Lacey frowned.  "I doubt anyone is thirsty yet.  We'll have to ration it
carefully."

"There's another jug."

Linda, the tall blonde, said, "Pity you didn't find any clothing."  She
peered around them.  "If the tornado could deliver this chest, why 
couldn't it deliver our wardrobe?"

Dorothy had an opinion about that.  "You might as well say God.  I think
He wants us all to be nude and innocent here in this primeval place."

Lacey winked at Claire, who said with a twinkle, "I'm not so sure about
the innocence."

Blake suggested, "Why don't you girls take shelter under that bedsheet?"

Fred, adding scraps to the fire, looked up and called, "Tent!  Our 
tent!"

"Some tent!" sniffed Linda.  Nevertheless the five females picked their
way to the rippling cloth, popping and snapping in the strong breeze.

The boys had found four boards in the debris to support the corners.  
They were splintered, averaging perhaps four feet in length.  The girls
had to crawl on all-fours to get under it.  Before erecting the 
impromptu tent the boys had cleaned out the area and unrolled a floor 
made from a scrap of linoleum.  Linda's torso was tall enough for her 
hair to scrape the bedsheet, even near the edge.  Claire was amused to 
note that each of the three girls sat with a heel tucked in front of her
vagina in the manner of nude African savages, perhaps instinctively to 
conceal it from the males.  She strongly doubted they had ever heard of
the African practice but restrained herself from mentioning it.  
Otherwise they sat cozily together, leaving plenty of room for the males
under the shelter.

Blake stood nearby.  "You'll have to move to this side when the sun gets
lower.  Of course with a low sun it won't matter so much."

Lacey said, "You guys had better come under here with us.  You're as 
white as we are."

Blake raised his voice to a shout.  "Come on, gentlemen: they want us 
under there with them."  He crawled in next to Lacey and kissed her 
shoulder.  The water jug was still under his arm.

Linda's eyes narrowed.  "I thought you were married to, ah, Claire."

"Oh, I am," he said with a grin.  "Claire understands that when I kiss 
Lacey, I'm kissing her too.  Tell her, Claire."

The woman cocked an eyebrow.  "I have a religious example for you, my 
dear.  You may think of Lacey and me as Mormon wives -- except our 
husbands aren't Mormon."

"I don't   Oh."

Dorothy said in an explanatory tone, "Remember: they were all in the 
same bed."

After unscrewing the lid Blake tipped the jug toward Linda.  "You 
thirsty?"

The girl took a breath.  "I believe I am."

He waddled forward on his knees and held the jug toward Linda's mouth, 
but she lowered her head well below the spout and forced the jug to tilt
until water splashed out upon face.

"Don't waste it!  It's gotta go straight in."  He forced the spout 
against her teeth.

She grimaced but drank a couple of swallows before pushing the jug away.
"I was mindful of germs."

Dorothy pronounced, "God has made us one family.  Don't worry about 
germs."

"How did you get so sure of that?" demanded Linda.

Dorothy was formulating an answer when Blake passed the jug before her.
"Have some."

The girl closed her lips completely around the threaded opening, at 
least an inch and a half in diameter, and took a large gulp.

Blake winked at Claire.  "This girl has talent."

Florrie, watching intently, giggled.  "I know what you're thinking."

Claire asked archly, "What's that?"

The girl's chin rose.  "I've sucked on something almost that big."

Claire's eyebrows rose.  "Have you?"

Blake grinned.  "And she's only 13."

Dorothy said, "I'm from the country, you know.  I hope you don't mean a
liquor jug."

"Not at all," said Florrie, still smiling.

"What do you know about liquor jugs?" demanded Linda.

Dorothy lowered her eyes.  "I saw the Johnson boys with some.  Their's 
weren't clear glass like this one, but from the way they behaved ..."

"The Johnson boys?" asked Lacey.

"On the next farm."

"Did you taste it?" inquired Linda expectantly.

"Of course not!  They would have told Papa."

Lacey mused, "Would they?  I'd think a farmer might blow away anyone who
corrupted his daughter."

"I agree," said Blake.  "They wouldn't dare to tell him."

Claire shook her head.  "But they would've told other girls and the 
story would get back."

"Too bad," commented Lacey with a twinkle.  "Some moonshine can taste as
smooth as water."

Blake shared the jug around.  By that time all the males were under the
shelter except Fred, still adding to the fire.

Jason, sitting between Linda and Florrie, asked, "Didn't you say there's
food in that chest?"

Blake nodded.  "Yeah, but everyone has had lunch, right?"  When all 
agreed, he continued, "Let's save our food until supper.  God knows how
long we'll be here."

Claire said, "Didn't you mention pain pills?"

"Yeah.  I hope you don't have a headache."

"I was thinking of sunblock."

He shrugged.  "Might be; I didn't notice.  For now I think we could all
benefit from a little nap.  But first, did you boys find anything else 
of interest?"

"No, sir," said Greg, "just more trash.  Of course there's a_ lot_ of 
it."

Fred crawled under the shelter, settled between Lacey and Claire, and 
said, "Now it will last a while -- the fire, I mean."

"Good," said Blake.  "When the sun is lower, I want to look beyond that
dune to the north.  This tornado has been surprisingly good to us so 
far."

Dorothy declared, "God has."

"If you say so."

Blake was right.  Their recent adventure, perhaps its unprecedented 
intensity, had left them exhausted.  The sun's heat passed through the 
bedsheet even if its ultraviolet did not.  That in combination with the
cool breeze made them comfortable.  In a minute or two they were all 
asleep.


* * *


When they awoke, the sun was setting in a splendidly crimson sky.  Even
Jason was impressed.  He said thoughtfully, "In town you don't often get
the opportunity to see a sky that beautiful."

"I'm hungry," said Greg.

"Supper coming up," said Blake, "but if you want it hot you'll have to 
heat it yourselves."

"How?"

"Fred will show you.  Let's go to the fire."

The other man was already busy building up the fire, which had burned 
down during their nap.  He pulled the top off a can of food, placed it 
on one end of a wooden board and shoved that end, can and all, into the
fire.  He said, "You have to watch it.  When it starts bubbling, it's 
ready to eat."

"Gather around," said Blake, "-- this side of the smoke, Jason!  You 
have your choice of pork and beans, ham and navy peas or sausage and 
broccoli.  Two per can, please.  As I said before, God knows how long 
we'll be here."

He had already closed the large chest and placed five cans atop it.  The
diners paired up naturally, except for Florrie.

Blake said, "Whoever's still hungry can have the other half of 
Florrie's."

As Linda took up a can, she said, "Is this all we have?"

"All we've found so far.  Well, more cans -- plus the packaged food: 
crackers and such.  We can have some for breakfast."

"Yuck!" said Jason.

"God will provide," said Dorothy confidently.

"I hope so," said Linda.

A can heats quickly on a burning board.  The only trick was to remove 
the board from the fire without spilling the boiling can.  With it 
safely withdrawn the diner nudged the can to a cooler end of the board 
and dipped out the warmed food, using a plastic spoon likewise retrieved
from the providential chest.  Greg and Jason split the remainder of 
Florrie's can.

Dorothy and Linda were the first to finish.  Dorothy threw her empty can
away in the debris, declaring, "I do love pork and beans."

Linda's lip curled.  "I guess being raised on a farm was better 
preparation for this."

Greg said, "Shouldn't we bury our trash?"

Blake laughed.  "You can bury it in the morning if you can find it."

When all had eaten, the sun had set.  The beach was somber in the 
twilight, although the breaking surf still gleamed, and the air was 
getting cooler.  They cleared spots upwind near the fire and sat or lay
supported on elbows in the sand, huddled together to share the warmth.
Above them the noon clouds had vanished and stars were beginning to 
appear.  Everyone recognized the planet Venus, low in the West.

"What a clear night this will be!" said Claire, sometimes an amateur 
astronomer.  "Sirius is already up."

Fred had a comment.  "You wouldn't think the sky tried to kill us at 
midday."

Claire chuckled.  "Dorothy will tell you we were not in any danger."

The girl nodded vigorously.  "That's right!  We were in God's hands."

Blake seemed to agree.  "We certainly were!  And that's the scary part."

She lowered her eyes.  "I'll admit I was scared too, but look around us.
We needn't have been."

"You don't think so?" scoffed Greg.  "Wait till we get hungry tomorrow 
or the next day."

Dorothy smiled beatifically.  "I know God will provide again."

Blake chuckled.  "I'm getting mixed signals here.  All four of you 
attend a religious school, right?"

"Yes, sir," said Greg, "but we're just freshmen entering at the second 
quarter."

"Maybe that explains why you still have different opinions."

"Opinions about what?"

"God's apparent motives, mainly.  I'm trying to recall what I retain 
from my childhood indoctrination."

"Indoctrination?" asked Linda.

"Yes.  I had a devout mother who filled my head to bursting with that 
bullshit."

Linda huffed.  "Must you use such a coarse word?"

The man grinned.  "It's the precise word, believe me -- except I should
probably capitalize the 'bull.'"

Dorothy frowned.  "The Bible says, 'Train up a child in the way he 
should go --'"

Blake interrupted.  "And he won't depart therefrom, or something similar
-- which shows you printed material is not always reliable, and not just
in the Bible either."

Dorothea stared into his eyes and murmured, almost inaudibly over the 
breeze, "I'm beginning to see the purpose in this."

Greg apparently understood her.  He said with a sniff, "Then why did He
include all of us?"

"'Beginning,' I said."

Blake returned the girl's stare.  "As long as the wind is offshore we 
don't have to worry about bugs, and the moon will be up in another hour
or so.  I'm thinking you and I should take a walk down the beach."

She inhaled deeply.  "I ... If you want to."


(2 of 5)

-- 
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