Livin' In the Country

					Livin' In the Country


					Another Epilogue


	To those readers who indulged me as I wandered from the main path of the
story, my thanks. Be advised that henceforth I am returning my protagonist to
his roots and devil take the hindmost. Naturally he will have to reach some type
of accommodation with his faithless wife and her brood, none of whom are related
in any way to him. This is good and then again, not so good, but I'm sure it
will be entertaining as he deals with the female members of Rhonda's family.

	He also has the matter of settling the score with one Mimi Marlowe, who
will now come center stage, and not just for a few minutes either. First and
foremost is the issue of the arrangement she made to provide the Tolliver twins,
Terri and Traci, in exchange for the opportunity to use Marty and Marie. That
has been rather one-sided to this point, and will be rectified, you can be sure
of that. Then there is the matter of what's to become of Marty and Marie; that
will prove to be another element that comes front and center. Let's not forget
that May and Mabel also have to come correct. Add to this stew Mimi's harem, and
a few other characters that have been festering in my deranged mind, and you
have the recipe for many more interesting chapters of Livin' In the Country. So
hang on tight, and whatever you do, don't look down!

					Livin' In the Country


					     Chapter 2


	Rhonda made our visitors strip down to their underwear before allowing
them to enter the house. Once they entered she slapped handcuffs on them. I was
a bit surprised at the couple's size. Marie looked to be a few inches shy of
five feet, and Marty was about Rhonda's height, maybe five-four or so, but she
probably outweighed him by at least seventy pounds. Marie on the other hand was
what I'd call a pocket Venus, small but well put together. The camisole did
nothing to hide her big tits and she had plenty of curves in all the right
places. It was no mystery why that lawyer had latched onto her as quickly as he
did, this was prime grade poontang.

	I approached the pair and patted Marie's pussy affectionately, and gave
her bladder a gentle nudge to see how full it was. She gasped and began to hop
from one foot to the other. Rhonda thought that was hilarious and she pressed
her hand against Marty's groin and shoved hard. He grunted and a few drops of
piss stained his panties. "Looks like someone has to piss real bad." Rhonda
observed. She pointed toward Marie and said, " On your knees you little slut,
and open wide so hubby here can relieve the pressure. You better not let any of
that worm's piss get on the carpet or you'll be sucking it up while I ream out
that asshole of yours with my Big Bertha strap-on.".

	We got them arranged properly, with my wife holding Marty's long, thin
cock inches away from Marie's open mouth. I started taping the action with my
trusty camcorder. He had some difficulty starting the flow, obviously
embarrassed by the presence of Rhonda and the video camera that was recording
this humiliating scene. Nature overcame modesty and soon a nice steady stream of
bright yellow piss began filling Marie's mouth. "Start swallowing", Rhonda
commanded, and Marie began to gulp down her husband's offering. That little guy
pissed and pissed and his poor wife had a hard time keeping up with the river of 
pee that flowed into her mouth. I knew her little bladder was probably on the
verge of bursting. Rhonda got a bit bored and so she began to direct his piss
stream into his wife's face and then across her chest, soaking the camisole and
outlining those big jugs of hers. Finally Marty's piss stream turned into spurts
as the enormous pressure on his bladder was relieved. Rhonda aimed those spurts
into Marie's eyes, making sure the big titted brunette kept them open wide.

	"Time to switch, people." Rhonda shouted, dropping Marty's cock like it
was some kind of nasty piece of garbage. He went to his knees and Marie waddled
into position. Her panties were yanked down to her knees, exposing her shaved
pussy with its fat lips. I began to lick my lips in anticipation of doing some
nasty-good things to that perfect fish taco she displayed. Rhonda shoved Marty's
face into his wife's crotch and she wasted no time delivering her piss into his
mouth. Marty gulped steadily for at least a couple of minutes while this
blissful look came over her face. Things were sure starting out well. I could
hardly wait until we marched them into the bathroom where two enema bags, filled
to the brim with a nasty concoction that Rhonda had gotten from one of the local
ladies, awaited them.

	When Marie finished filling her hubby's belly with piss, we made them
stand for a close order inspection after we tore the skimpy underwear from their
bodies. They now stood stark naked, with their feet wide apart to allow us easy
access to their bodies. I watched while Rhonda ran her middle finger up Marty's
asshole and wiggled it about to locate his prostate. She reached around, grabbed
his cock and began to jack him off as her knowing finger teased his twitching
organ.

	 Marty developed a rather impressive erection. He had a long cock, maybe
eight or possibly nine inches long, but it lacked girth. Rhonda snorted and
pronounced his equipment to be less than acceptable. " I'm calling you needle
dick. From now on that's your new name. No wonder your wife is putting out for
other men, she needs something bigger around than that pencil to fill up her
hungry cunt. Believe me that whore you call a wife is gonna get plenty of
filling before this little visit is over." As she berated the runt, her hand
continued to milk his dick which was now hard and jumping. " I'll bet you would
like to shoot off that skinny popgun, wouldn't you? Well today is your lucky
day."

	 I picked up on her plan and shoved Marie towards her husband, as I
said, " Down on your knees you piece of fuck meat and open up so Marty can blow
his wad into your whore's mouth. You make sure to keep it all in that filthy
mouth, or I'll rip your tongue out of your head." Marie's eyes filled with tears
at this new humiliation. Rhonda ordered her to capture the head of her husband's
dick in her mouth to make sure she got every drop. I caught the entire event,
showing Marie, cheeks bulging as she choked and gagged on the jets of hot cum
that spurted into her mouth, struggling to contain it before it slid down her
throat. Once Marty finished blowing his nuts we made his wife stand and transfer
his cum from her mouth to his while we laughed and recorded their latest taste
of degradation. Then Rhonda provided dessert, making the slightly built boy-toy
suck her middle finger which had been deep inside his asshole for many long
minutes. It certainly was going to be a fun evening.

	My wife took over the video camera while I poked and prodded Marie,
checking how tight her pussy was, only average, squeezing and hefting those
good-sized jugs, as well as finding out how fast her nipples hardened when I
sucked on them. I managed to work three fingers up her asshole, another
surprise. Evidently that lawyer was using her a lot more than I thought, or he
was pimping her out, and she was too embarrassed to say anything about it. Marie
let out a yelp when I playfully bit her ass, and got a few good spanks for her
breach of conduct.

	Then it was time for twenty questions. When was the last time Marty had
blown his nuts? I felt sorry for the poor bastard when he answered "about five
months ago". He blushed scarlet when I queried him about the circumstances
surrounding this event. Rhonda had to squeeze his balls to make him give us the
lowdown.

	 One morning he woke before Marie and slipped his cock up between the
cheeks of her ass and rubbed up and down her crack until he got off. She woke up
and became very upset because the lawyer had expressly forbidden her to do
anything that would let him get off. That was the last time he had been allowed
to share a bed or even sleep in the same room as his wife.

	Rhonda gave Marie a dirty look and shook her head in mock disgust. Then
she looked at Marty and grinned. " Don't worry about getting off while you're
here. By the time we get done, you'll be able to tie a knot in that long, lean
piece of meat, and your prostate is going to be the size of a baseball. You're
even going to get a crack at this whore you married. I really don't know how
you'll get her or yourself off since that tramp's cunt and asshole have been
stretched so much that you could fly the Goodyear blimp up them without touching
the sides." I cracked up at her remark as he and his diminutive wife hung their
heads in abject humiliation.

	It got even funnier when I told them of our plans for the rest of their
stay. "While you two are here the only way you can get rid of piss is into each
other. To make it easier on you, you'll get one small glass of water every
twelve hours, unless you specifically ask for more. I'd advise you both to watch
out for getting dehydrated while you're here. There are going to be plenty of
cameras taking videos and pictures which mean lots of bright, hot lights. We
also have a sauna built into our playroom where you'll probably spend most of
your time. Chances are people are going to drag you in with them so you can
service them while they soak up some of that dry heat."

	"According to the body temperature measurements that Marie has been
giving us, she's in her fertile time this weekend and we've arranged for a
number of guys to try to knock her up. To make it more interesting for you both,
Marty will get a chance to suck the cum from your cunt as soon as the stud
finishes loading her up. However in the event that hubby is busy servicing or
being serviced by one of the many ladies that will be using him, he'll just have
to wait his turn, no matter how many guys soak her snatch.  You two will be
getting something to keep you fresh around the clock while you're here. Also
we've invited a henna artist to come over and decorate both of you with some
appropriate art work that will last for a couple of months. There's no pain
involved. We decided you're not ready for tattooing yet. You're lucky because
that can hurt big time if you're getting something put on a tender spot like
your tit or dick."

	By the time I was done the two of them were pale as ghosts, just what I
had hoped for. I wondered how Marie would react when she found out that she was
going to be taking on a pack of dogs tomorrow afternoon out in the back area.
I'll bet Marty was gonna shit pineapples when he got a load of the strap-ons
that some of the ladies planned on using to open up his asshole so they could
fist fuck him later on. I wondered if they'd freak when the kids and their
friends took their turn with them. I'm sure that Marie never had the pleasure of
being fucked silly by a mob of sex-mad teens. Come to think of it how was poor
Marty going to keep up with all those hair-triggered youngsters shooting oceans
of sperm laden cum deep inside his tiny wife's pussy? It was going to be a real
fun weekend for all concerned; well maybe not for all, come to think of it.

	It was my wife who broke the mood, suggesting in no uncertain terms that
we sample the merchandise. Poor Marty was about to learn the meaning of that
phrase. Rhonda announced that she and Marty were adjourning to her bedroom to
see what he could do. I had to bite my tongue because I knew what she was
planning. Marty was about to meet her favorite toy, a butt buster of a tool
guaranteed to bring tears to the eyes of anyone unfortunate enough to be on the
receiving end of this monster.

	 That left me alone with little Marie and I definitely knew what I
wanted from her. Talk about your basic spinner, she must have weighed no more
than ninety pounds. I sat down on the couch and put her to work getting my cock
hard. She gave pretty good head, guess that lawyer had spent some time training
her. She slobbered all over my johnson, licking it from base to tip and swirling
her tongue around the sensitive head. After she finished licking my balls I
hoisted her onto my stiff rod and proceeded to plant her to the hilt. She let
out a gasp as her asshole was filled. I grabbed her tits and used them like
reins to make her pogo-stick up and down on my tool. Soon we were in rhythm, me
thrusting and Marie dropping that hot, wet cunt down to meet me.

	 Suddenly there came a scream from the bedroom and Marie stopped moving.
I squeezed, then yanked her tits to get her in motion. Another scream, louder
still, echoed through the house. I guess that Rhonda had just breached Marty's
tight asshole with the strap-on. The next few yells were not as loud, I figured
that she had begun to loosen his shitter up by now. I slapped Marie on the flank
and told her to start moving her ass or she'd get a dose of what hubby was
experiencing. She put her mind to my needs and away we went.

	Although my original plan was to pull out, put Marie on her back and
then shoot my load deep inside her cunt, her clutching shit chute and energetic
movements brought me to an unexpected climax. I vowed that she'd pay for this
sometime during the weekend.

	 Things had quieted down, and so I decided to take my little fuck toy
with me for a visit to where Rhonda was rerouting Marty's innards. The door was
partly open, so I barged in, dragging Marie along. Poor Marty was on his belly,
face buried in the mattress. Rhonda was straddling his frail body, her monster
strap-on dildo almost completely buried in his asshole. She looked up at us,
gave me a wolfish grin and pulled the hard rubber tool out until just the head
was contained by his quivering backdoor. Then she drove it back into the sissy
boy and he nearly threw her off as he screamed in agony and thrashed beneath her
bulky body.

	 Marie started blubbering at the sight of her husband having his asshole
torn open. I pinched one of those big tits and she yelped. When I wagged my
finger at her, she quieted down. "That ought to give this weakling a taste of
what's in store for his sorry ass when the girls get busy on him." Rhonda said
as she wiggled her hips to move the dildo from side to side within his spasming
shitter.

	"Who's up for an enema?' I asked, unable to conceal my glee over this
latest surprise for our guests. Marie started to shake, but Marty was too busy
trying to keep his asshole from turning inside out to make any comment for or
against. Rhonda yanked the dildo from his ass, and she nearly did drag part of
his shitter out with it. Marty was screaming his head off, so she grabbed him by
the back of the neck and jammed his face into the mattress, cutting off his air
and the ugly noises he was making. I gave Marie a mock bow and pointed toward
the door. She started to snivel, but got her ass in gear when she realized from
the look on my face that her tits were going to get more than a pinch this time.

	The looks on their faces were priceless when they saw the two bulging
enema bags hanging from the shower rod. However before they experienced the
pleasure of having their intestines filled with what would feel like gallons of
boiling water, there was the matter of the load of cum that was beginning to
ooze from Marie's swollen asshole.

	 Marty was ordered to lie on his back and then his tiny wife squatted
over his open mouth and grunted as she pushed the slimy mess from her shitter.
She finished him off by sitting on his face, her gaping asshole locked against
his mouth as he suctioned every drop of cum and other secretions from her.
Rhonda evidently got turned on big time watching this disgusting activity and
was flogging her clit furiously as she held her cunt lips apart to give herself
better access to that sex button.

	They stood side by side, bent at the waist, waiting for the nozzles to
enter their asses. It was quite apparent that Marty's gaping asshole would
require some kind of modification to the nozzle. Rhonda had come prepared,
producing a plastic cylinder with a threaded hole drilled through its length.
She lubed it, wedged it up his ass and made sure it was firmly set into his
rectum. The nozzle had a threaded collar that allowed it to be mated to the
spacer locked into his asshole. In the case of Marie, a larger diameter nozzle,
well lubed, took care of hooking her up to the enema bag. We unclipped the hoses
and stood back to watch the fun.

					Married Life in the Ozarks


						Chapter 3


	The flow control valves were set so that the contents of the bags would
have plenty of time to heat up within their intestines and produce the gas that
would make it feel as if they were taking gallons rather than quarts.  After
about ten minutes both of them started to sweat and grunt as the pressure
increased dramatically, forcing their stomachs to begin bloating. Marie looked
as if she was about four months gone, and the bulge in Marty's belly was
beginning to take the starch out of his hardon. That little guy was a major
league freak. I hadn't been paying much attention to him since I had Marie to
fool around with, but it dawned on me that the more discomfort and humiliation
Rhonda dealt out, the harder his long lean cock became.

	After fifteen minutes they began to cry and plead for relief. Rhonda was
all heart, shutting off the flow so they could adjust to the pressure that was
making them feel as if they were going to explode like overinflated balloons.
While they tried to get their bearings, she toyed with Marty's limp dick,
slapping it across her palm and bending it almost double. I in turn worked three
fingers up Marie's sopping cunt. Damn, she was dripping! I realized then that
there was a good reason she and Marty were married, they were two freaks with
the same kind of on switches.

	I had to admit that those two could really take it. Only a handful of
folks had ever survived a full bag of this fiendish solution, and every one of
them outweighed these two considerably. In fact one of the ladies that would be
attending tomorrow had recently added her name to the "I beat the bloat" club.
Some people argue that she should have been disqualified since she was dead
drunk at the time, and probably could have taken the contents of the Lake of the
Ozarks and not felt a thing.

	Little Marie was now big Marie, her belly was incredibly distended to
the point that you could trace the veins criss crossing this massive bulge. She
now looked as if she was carrying triplets and was at least a month overdue. Her
legs were like two columns of quivering jelly, but it was her bluish face that
really stood out. The gas had expanded to the point that it was rearranging her
insides, forcing her stomach to push up against her lungs, cutting off the
amount of air that she could take in with each breath. She was compensating by
panting like a dog that was overheated. It was a sight that had to be seen to be
believed. Rhonda had the good sense to get the video camera and record this
unbelievable feat for posterity. As an aside this tape was the most popular we
ever made. There must be at least five hundred copies circulating throughout the
country and god knows how many more have made it overseas.

	Marty was so swollen that it looked as if he would float off into space
at any moment. Like his wife, Marty's face was a pale blue, and he was gasping
like a fish out of water. His cock had shriveled up into a tiny lump of pink
skin, a sure sign that he was really hurting. I looked over at Rhonda who was
still shooting the scene. "Think they had enough?" I asked. She didn't answer
for a moment, moving in to frame Marie's panting, bluish face, then replied,
"Let's give them a few more minutes so I can get some stills. They're not going
anywhere." My wife is one tough cookie when it comes to dishing it out. I have
often wondered how she'd handle things if she was on the receiving end. Maybe
one of these days I'd find out for myself.

	"Ladies first", my wife announced as she pulled the nozzle from Marie's
asshole. The spinner was standing in the tub, legs spread over her husband, who
was on his back. As soon as the nozzle was removed she squatted so that the
contents of her bulging body would flood her helpless husband. Rhonda laughed
like crazy as the skinny boy-toy nearly drowned in his wife's shit. The stench
was awful despite the fan that was groaning in protest as sucking away as much
air as it could. Marty lived up to his freak reputation by opening his mouth so
that part of the torrent of filth went down his throat. Even Rhonda was grossed
out by this maneuver.

	When Marie stopped dumping we put her in the shower and washed off the
filth from her shaking body. Marty waited patiently for some kind of relief.
Rhonda was more than a bit pissed off with Marty. She took his reaction to be a
challenge to her ability to dish out humiliation and misery. "I want to really
hurt that little turd for trying to put me down with that little grandstand play
he made by swallowing her shit." I shrugged and told her that they weren't
interested in major pain, just plenty of  humiliation, forced sex and a few
slaps on the ass.

	My wife was not mollified, she continued to mutter threats of revenge on
him for being "uppity". I began to suspect that Marty had bitten off more than
he could chew and was going to pay a heavy price for his behavior before he left
our house. I felt slightly better about things once Marty was in the shower
getting hosed off. However Rhonda took the opportunity to shove the hose up his
ass and give him a blast of water that made him scream in agony. As ourr
cadet-sized guest writhed in pain Rhonda added, "As soon as he's dry I'm taking
his sorry ass back to my bedroom and give him another dose of Big Bertha until
he bleeds. I'll show him who he's funning with."

	Fortunately for Marty a few minutes later our two oldest kids, Tammi and
Jack, poked their heads in and announced that they had brought along a few
friends to help take care of our visitors until morning. We gave them a heads up
about the ground rules; no condoms, only a glass of water for our guests unless
they asked for more, no pissing except into each other, and if he was available,
Marty was to suck the cum out of Marie's cunt and asshole and swallow it all
after every fuck. I also made sure they understood that the couple was
definitely not into pain,and to go easy on any rough stuff unless it involved
hurting, but not putting out of action, Marty's cock or Marie's cunt. Rhonda
grumbled about the last rule, but did not challenge me on it.

	It turned out there were four couples to start with. Another group would
arrive later on after the party they were at broke up. The boys were really
excited to get started on Marie once they got a look at her curvy body with
those big jugs. They immediately named her "micropussy" due to her size.

	 The girls on the other hand were not too impressed with Marty and there
was some mumbling and grumbling about his funny looking cock and the skinny body
to which it was attached. Rhonda didn't make it any easier for him by insisting
that he was queer and all he liked was to be fucked up the ass. "If you want him
to get it up you have to hurt him good; he's not only a fag, but he's a freak
too.", Rhonda added as the girls escorted their "prize" to the rec room for fun
and games. Poor Marty, those little bitches nearly killed him. It was lucky for
him that after I spent a few hours fucking and sucking Rhonda into a better mood
I decided to check up on them.

	When I walked in the guys were all in the suana with "micropussy" taking
turns fucking her to a frazzle in the dry heat. I didn't pay them any attention
once I saw what the girls were doing to Marty. He was on the floor with one girl
grinding her ass and pussy all over his face while another was working a long
thin vibrator in and out of his asshole. What really got me was the condition of
his dick.

	 It stood straight up thanks to the cock ring that had been tightly
screwed to the base of his dick. The head was huge because they had looped some
thin twine just beneath it and tied it off so tightly that it had sunk into the
flesh. His entire cock was a weird shade of purple, almost approaching black. I
watched as a heavy-set girl mounted his strange looking prick and sank down on
it with a sigh of pleasure, swallowing its entire length. "Damn this mother
fucker really feels good now!" she exclaimed as she began moving her hips back
and forth to work it around inside her tight cunt. I wasn't sure the poor
bastard was conscious since he made no attempt to escape his tormentors.

	 Visions of me and Rhonda being hauled off to jail flashed through my
mind as I realized that these little cunts may have crippled him for life. I
began screaming at the top of my lungs for the fat one to get off the poor
bastard before I broke her fucking head open. Her friends scattered immediately,
frantically searching for their clothing so they could make their escape. The
door to the suana opened and I was nearly run over by the quartette of naked
boys that came piling out of the furnace-like room.

	Thankfully I remembered that there were some industrial razor blades in
the small tool chest I kept here for minor jobs around the house. It took some
doing, but I managed to slice through the twine cutting off the circulation to
the head of Marty's dick without doing any major damage. The cock ring came off
fairly easy, and his cock twitched and he screamed in pain as the blood
circulation was restored to his tool. A quick trip to the kitchen gave me enough
ice to begin reducing the terrible swelling. Around then Rhonda stumbled into
the room, still kind of half asleep, but once she saw what was going on, she
woke up in one big hurry. "Oh fuck! Oh fuck! What did those fucking kids do?"
Rhonda said over and over as she surveyed the damage done to Marty.

	For one brief moment I wanted to punch her lights out. My big-mouthed
wife had set this one into motion with her lttle rant just before Marty and
Marie were taken away for this nightmare of a party. Then it hit me, where the
hell was Marie? I hotfooted it into the broiling room to discover Marie lying on
a bench, totally out of it, her legs splayed and that little pussy an angry
crimson wound coated with a thick layer of drying cum. When I got closer I saw
the teeth marks covering her tits and the insides of her thighs, plus some
scratches that were still leaking blood. I scooped her up and exited the suana
in a couple of strides. All I could do was shake my head when Rhonda started
yelling that our kids were going to catch hell for what they'd done to the pair.

	Here we were at 2AM with our guests of honor totally out of commission
and a host of people about to descend upon us in less than 12 hours eager for
some major league fun and games. We'd never live this one down.

	 From the looks of Marty he might be ready to go in perhaps a day, since
he was obviously a freak for pain and suffering, not to mention hard-edge
humiliation and degradation. Marie was in such bad shape from dehydration, not
to mention the damage done to her tunnel of love, that I couldn't even estimate
when she would be able to walk or travel, let alone "entertain"more than a dozen
oversexed men and a few lesbians to boot.

	For an instant I thought about volunteering my big-mouthed wife, but
tabled that when I realized that she was just another piece of fuckmeat that had
been used and abused by this gang so many times that they couldn't even recall
when they'd broken her in. As they say in the "ad biz", she had fingerprints all
over her.

	Then it hit me. I had one of those ideas that was so right that I
wondered why someone else hadn't come up with it before. I had the perfect
substitutes, fresh meat for the gang. There could be no argument that what I
would offer fit the bill of fare that they had been expecting. What made it even
more fantastic was that I totally controlled at least two of the participants,
and probably after a few phone calls starting now, might add as many as six more
to the mix. What had started out as perhaps a gangbang was now turning into an
orgy that would be talk of the swing community for years to come. I was going to
break new ground with a vengeance.

	I'd been lost in thought for quite some time. Rhonda sidled up to me
cautiously to ask what I was thinking about. I gave her my best shit-eating grin
and announced I had the answer to our troubles. Now it was her turn to blanch as
she jumped to the conclusion that she was going to be the substitute for our
wasted guests. "The kids, we'll use the fucking kids. Talk about payback, those
little pricks are going to get a huge dose of their own medicine. What the fuck
do you think of that, you miserable excuse for a blowup doll?" When it sank in,
her face lit up like a thousand watt light bulb, if there was such a thing.

	Two hours and a dozen phone calls later we had lined up commitments from
the parents of at least four of the demons responsible for damaging our
property, so to speak. As it turned out eight kids, equally divided between boys
and girls,the yongest just turned 13, were in attendance when our guests began
to arrive. It would be a get-together that would be talked about for years. To
make it even sweeter, one of the little rats was the son of a county policeman
who offered, for a taste of the merchandise, to act as a go-between to keep the
local cops from hassling us. Down here 13 is considered to be the age of consent
by the vast majority of the local population and our law enforcement takes that
very seriously. However, woe to anyone caught fooling with a girl or boy 12 
years, 11 months and 29days old, their asses were in a sling.

					Livin' In the Country


					     Chapter 4


	The unwilling substitutes were escorted to our place by either their
parents or the police. An hour before the first guests were to arrive, the eight
of them met in the play room for their final instructions. All were buck naked,
with their hands cuffed behind their backs. The four girls ranged from 13 to 16
years old, and included our daughter, Tammi.. The youngest still looked boyish;
all nipples, no hips, a flat ass and just a few wisps of pubic hair announcing
that she had reached puberty. She would turn out to be the belle of the ball, or
was it the fuck pig princess.

	The other three were either full grown or getting there in a big hurry.
Big tits seemed to be the standard for most girls in the county, which spoiled
the local men and boys rotten. I was particularly pleased to note that the
heavy-set girl who was in the process of ruining Marty for life when I
intervened was one of the "volunteers". She would prove to be very popular with
members of both sexes and a week after the orgy ended she still wasn't able to
have a decent shit.

	The boys were all rather well hung for their age; it must be something
in the water around here. Presently their equipment was at half staff, probably
because they were scared shitless over what was about to happen to their sorry
asses. We'd already given Jack, my wife's boy, a pretty good idea about what was
expected of him and he had evidently passed that along to his buddies. I had
never thought of Jack as being mine since Rhonda was going through some kind of
women's lib thing about the time she got herself in the family way with him.

	I gave them the lowdown on what was expected. " You will be entertaining
a fairly large group of folks who have come here, expecting to have a good time
doing and screwing  Marie and Marty, who you a-holes managed to put out of
commission last night. I hope they won't be too pissed off to find you kids
standing in for my rather badly damaged house guests."

	" Marty claims he's a fast healer and for all I know he may be joining
the party by tomorrow which may take some of the strain off the boys. Don't
count on it because the ladies in attendance are a horny lot and it'll probably
be the more, the merrier, as far as they are concerned. Every one of you is
going to get cornholed today, tonight and probably tomorrow; so deal with it!
You are getting what you deserve for not paying attention to what I told you."

	" Now you young ladies ought to know that one of the highlights we had
planned for this little get-together was to get Marie in the family way. Chances
are one or more of you will have to take her place for this one.Today this house
is going to be a condom free zone as far as you are concerned. In the event that
some of you miss your periods in the very near future, I have made arrangements
with the potions lady to take care of that little matter with one of her famous
miracle cures that is guaranteed to make you feel like your insides and outsides
have been swapped."

	"We will be playing lots of games whenever my guests feel the need to
take it easy and recharge their batteries. I think I just made a joke, why isn't
anyone laughing? Batteries, like in vibrators, get it? You young ladies are
going to participate in the cum relay, which is a very popular event with the
folks you'll be entertaining. It's real simple to play and after a few games
you'll all be real pros at it. I should warn you that in this game there are
winners and losers. I believe you'll all have a chance to be both."

	"All of you, girls as well as boys, will have a chance to play in the
enema games. Be warned, they are not for the weak of will. I'm not going to go
into any of the gory details, but I know you will all remember this experience
for a good long time. Perhaps some of you might even make this your bag, pardon
the pun, in the future. I had plans for other events, but that will depend on
how well you handle your duties. Do a good job, make everyone happy and the fun
and games will be just that. Screw up and they will cloud up and rain all over
your sorry asses."

	By noon there were nearly 30 people in various stages of undress milling
around in our house. I took a deep breath and let everyone in on the situation
and my proposed substitution for Marty and Marie. When the kids paraded out
there was a buzz of conversation followed by some louder exchanges among a few
people. Then a voice yelled out, "I want to fuck that skinny cunt with the bald
pussy. I haven't had anything that young in years." Another guy popped up and
added his two cents to the matter. It seems he too was interested in tearing a
piece off that 13 year old. What followed was a near riot as everyone shouted
their choice for who they wanted to do first. I glanced over at Rhonda and she
was grinning from ear to ear. She gave me our special sign indicating that her
ass was mine for as long as I wanted it. I grinned back at her because I planned
to have her service the pack of dogs that were due tomorrow morning.

	To say that the day was a success would be an understatement. To say
that everyone who was there enjoyed the hell out of things would not be
truthful. I knew of 8 people who were less than enchanted about their current
lot in life.

	 The highlight of the day was the selection, by secret ballot, of Miss
Pregnant-To-Be. To the astonishment of all, little Connie, the skinny, boyish 13
year old, won in a landslide. Two minutes after I certified her election, she
was on her back, ankles pinned behind her ears, as the first of a dozen
hard-cocked studs took his position and jammed almost nine inches of very thick
meat into her tight teen twat. While Connie fulfilled her duties the other seven
were used and abused by the rest of the folks.

	There was so much going on that even with Rhonda and I both working
camcorders, it was impossible to do justice to all of the kinky things that were
going on. I got a good section showing Jack on his knees with his head held
against the furry box of a woman in her fifties, as another older lady,
heavy-set with a stern look on her pinched face, worked a large strap-on in and
out of his asshole. Those two took their sweet time using him and I was able to
return later and get some more footage. This time they had switched positions.

	I checked on the progress of the fat girl I had caught fucking poor
little Marty. Two women and a guy were doing her, all at the same time. She was
on her knees, head buried between the thighs of a large woman with huge tits,
who had a death grip on her hair. The other woman was beneath her, stretching
the kid's cunt with a huge black hunk of plastic modeled after some farm animal.
The guy was hunched over her, giving her the ass fucking of her young life.
Satisfied that everyone was having a good time at her expense,I moved on to
capture some more of the incredible action that was taking place.

	Another of Jack's buddies was being done by a trio of older ladies. One
was sitting on his face, guiding him into all her sweet spots as she crooned to
him like he was a baby. The second was holding a silver bullet vibrator that was
half buried in his asshole. She was slowly turning, then moving it from side to
side while her free hand rubbed his groin. From the looks of his cock she had
found his prostate and was giving it a massage that he would never forget. The
third was seated beside him slow-jacking his stiff cock. Every so often she
would squeeze his balls until his dick wilted. Then she'd start the cycle all
over again. Now that was nasty in the extreme. This poor bastard was probably
going to have the biggest pair of blue balls in the state before these babes got
done with him.

	When I checked out what was going on with Miss Pregnant-To-Be, I
discovered that Tammie had been pressed into service as a fluffer. She was on
her knees, a few feet from the action, her mouth wrapped around a fine specimen
of hard cock. The stud was using Tammi's ears to control her pace and movements.
I zoomed in on what was happening between Connie's thighs and got some great
footage of a hard length of meat burrowing in and out of her now swollen,
red-lipped cunt. Her eyes were wide open, but it didn't look as if she was
seeing anything, just staring fixedly at the ceiling as her insides were
battered and filled with one hot load of sperm-rich cum after another. I panned
away, catching the beads of perspiration that were flying from her sleek body
from the force of the stud's thrusts. If all went as planned, little Connie was
going to be a very sore mother-to-be by the time she left my place.

	Late in the afternoon people started running out of steam. To keep them
entertained we had the first of a numbe of enema contests. We picked two girls
and two girls to be our first contestants. They were lined up in our back yard
which was well sheltered from prying eyes as well as being out in the sticks.
Each of them were given two quarts of cold water and then plugged tight. The
winner would be the one who lasted the longest before asking for the plug to be
removed. Of course there was a kicker to these simple rules that they didn't
know about. It wasn't long before one of the guys started begging for relief. He
was led over to a bucket and the plug yanked free so he could dump the contents
into the container. He received plenty of loud boos and mock cheers from the
audience, who were in on the joke. The first girl to surrender to the discomfort
was the oldest,16, a plump blonde with big tits and a dark bush. The other guy
hung on for a few more minutes, refusing to give into a mere girl when it came
to holding his water. A series of major cramps finally did him in and the fat
girl was declared the winner. It was then that the fun really began.

	The guy who quit first was forced to stretch out inside a low wooden
trough. The fat girl was led over and ordered to squat over him. The look on his
face was priceless just before she let go. She dumped everything she'd eaten in
the last couple of days plus the now warm water that had filled her bowels onto
his face. It was hilarious,and I caught it all on tape. It got even funnier when
the contents of the bucket were poured over this poor fool as well. This was
something that he would not live down for years. He was allowed to get up from
the filth he'd been wallowing in, and one of the nice older ladies, wearing a
strap-on that put most of the men to shame, hosed him off. For her act of
kindness she was allowed to march him off to the sauna so he could dry out. Of
course she would be there too, widening and deepening his candy ass for her
trouble.

	The other guy and the plump blonde got their "reward" for coming in
second and third. He got to wallow in the mess like a pig for exactly five
minutes. A minute or so into his stint the stench got to him and he puked up his
guts. He did an encore, bringing up pure bile and then dry heaving until his
time was up. Finally the plump blonde was dropped into this stinking morass that
wasn't even fit for a pig. Her "prize" was ten minutes in the trough. To make it
better a few folks who needed to empty their bladders took this opportunity to
add something to the pot, so to speak. The pair of losers were hosed down and
made to assume a sixty-nine position to entertain the audience until such time
as the spirit moved them to utilize their services once more.

	I moved back inside to check on Connie and Tammi. My daughter was still
hoovering away and Connie was still bouncing and jiggling as more cum was
pounded deep inside her. After each load she was tilted for five minutes to let
it settle properly in her fuck channel. It appeared that most of the studs were
taking anywhere from ten to fifteen minutes to do the deed. Doing some quick
math I figured it would take between three and four hours for them to cycle
through her the first time. By then the first stud would be ready to take
another turn. So it looked like she'd be busy until late into the night. I
decided to let her take a break for a couple of hours before they did her the
second time. I didn't want the kid's pussy to get too sore, plus she needed to
get a chance to restore all the water that was being fucked out of her skinny
body.

	It was the cocktail hour before Connie was done by all dozen studs. The
entire gang, except for the kids, who were too young to be drinking, gathered in
the rec room and the surrounding areas. I freed the plump blonde and her fat
friend so they could help serve our guests. It turned out that they might have
been better off staying with their friends. Every trip between the bar and the
rec room was like running the gauntlet, as their naked bodies were pinched,
poked and prodded by what seemed like hundreds of hands. This graduated to pats
and then slaps, most landing on their asses, which soon were cherry red from all
the attention they were getting. Under Rhonda's direction a couple of the boys
had been dragooned into preparing and tending the steaks, chops and other
goodies that would be consumed by the folks before they got back to making the
lives of the kids even more miserable.  

					     Livin' In the Country


					          Chapter 5


	By half past seven in the evening things were off and running again. The
studs were hammering away on Connie, soaking the kid's snatch with millions upon
millions of blind swimmers, headed north to the promised land. The first heat of
the cum relays was being run as four guys took turns flooding Tammi with cum.
Her job as fluffer was now being done by the plump blonde. Although she and
Connie were being kept pretty busy, they were going to have to do double duty. I
finally got around to finding out what the fat girl's name was.  Ellie, aka the
fat girl, was going to anchor this heat.

	The guy with the blue balls was still being driven nuts by this crazy
lady who had taken it upon herself to give him a life experience that would stay
with him for the rest of his time on this earth. Word had it that promptly at
the stroke of midnight he was going to be allowed to shoot off, if he could. It
seems as if this nice motherly type was going to put a sort of filter over the
head of his dick that would cut down considerably his field of fire. According
to her way of thinking, he was going to know a little bit what it felt like to
deliver a twenty pound baby.

	Jack was doing triple duty. Three ladies were taking turns on his stiff
cock, alternating from face sitting to prostate massaging when they weren't
swallowing his cock whole in their well used cunts.

	 A large jar containing those little blue pills that made middle-aged
men capable of reliving their youth a few hours at a time, was being passed
around to make sure that the boys were ready for anything that the ladies could
dream up. A second jar, filled with reds, a stimulant guaranteed to keep the
boys and girls alert and active throughout the evening and well into the
following morning, was also making the rounds.

	I homed in on a group of women who were gathered around one of the other
kids, a boy with a long cock. Two of the women were holding his legs doubled
back over his head, while a third was reaming him out with a huge strap-on
dildo. However this was not what drew me to them; it was the fact that they were
rapidly closing the gap between the tip of his rigid dick and his mouth. A few
long minutes later they let out a whoop and announced for all to see that the
boy was now sucking his own dick. I almost felt sorry for the kid until I
remembered the condition of Marie, the micropussy, when I rescued her from the
sauna.

	The first leg of the cum relay was now being finished. Tammi was
squatting over a plastic measuring cup squeezing the four loads of cum from her
cunt. A panel of judges, namely the four sperm donors, carefully measured the
level of slime in the cup and pronounced it to be pure cum. Now the fun really
began.

	A turkey baster was used to transfer the cum into the plump blonde's
ass. While she was "running" the second lap, Tammie took over as the fluffer for
the guys doing Connie. Now two men started to ram their dicks up the blonde's
asshole, taking turns every few minutes until both had added their offerings to
what had been deposited previously. The measuring cup was positioned and the
plump teen strained to force every drop of cum from her ass. For it to be a
successful leg, the amount of cum had to be greater than that previously
measured. In the event this was not the case, another guy would take over the
job of ass fucking her. This would continue until the judges determined that the
relay leg had been successfully concluded.

	As luck would have it the blonde, Bonnie was her name, managed to
produce a tad more cum than had originally been put into her asshole. Usually
the legs required more than a couple of loads before enough could be pushed out
to satisfy the rules. Now it was Connie's turn, which required that there be a
break in getting her knocked up. At this point no one was complaining, including
Connie who was becoming extremely bored with it all. So while Connie was being
introduced to the pleasures attached to having her tender asshole opened up and
filled with cum, I headed for the bathroom, having been tipped off to some
interesting activity taking place there.

	A trio of middle aged ladies were totally humiliating one of the boys. I
peeked in while they were forcing him to drink their piss straight from the tap.
There is nothing like having your balls captured in the strong hands of a nasty
woman bent on turning you into a sissy boy if you don't do exactly what she
says. What I heard as I started taping was ," Now drink every drop and god help
you if any of that precious nectar goes to waste."

	 There was only one gal that would use the word "nectar" to describe
piss. She was a school teacher well known for the severe discipline she meted
out to boys and girls alike. Rumor had it that a number of her female students
comprised a private harem dedicated to pleasing her every whim. Even stranger
was the claim that Ms. Marlowe also had a stable of young studs vying for her
sexual favors. This lady wasn't much to look at, even stark naked. She had a set
of pear-shaped, drooping tits, the beginnings of a pot belly and a shaved cunt
with thick, wrinkled lips. Her ass was marbled with patches of cellulite and
even her cheeks sagged. However what she lacked in looks was more than made up
for by her dominant personality. She symbolized the mother that every young stud
secretly wished he could fuck, and every impressionable girl wanted to sleep
with.

	I hung around for a few minutes and got some good stuff showing the kid
taking a golden shower from another one of the women, a skinny brunette with
almost no tits to speak of and a pussy surrounded by one of the thickest patches
of fur I'd seen in a long time. However the funniest thing I saw was when they
made the boy piss in his own face, a neat trick that they eaily pulled off,
indicating that these ladies were no strangers to this kind of fun and games.

	 By the time I got back to the main action, the two guys working on
Connie were just finishing up, adding their cum to the mess fermenting inside
her asshole. The youngster was unfamiliar with the techniques for squeezing cum
from her ass. Her offering was deemed unacceptable and so another pair of lucky
bucks got their opportunmity to stir things up further inside the girl's now
gaping asshole.

	Wandering about for some new material, I discovered Jack servicing a
rather portly woman of indeterminate age. She was stretched out comfortably on a
nest of pillows, legs spread wide, her arms folded behind her head. It was
obvious from the trail of drying saliva that my "son" was giving her a tongue
bath, and had miles to go before his task would be completed.

	Presently he was doing her flabby thighs, crossing back and forth
between them so he could provide some tongue action to her shaved pussy along
the way. It appeared that he'd gobbled down a few of those blue pills, because
his cock looked like it was made of steel. I guess he was probably expected to
do more than just tickle her twat with his tongue.

	I zoomed in on her cunt and my suspicions were confirmed. A thin trickle
of cum was oozing from her. She looked up at the camera, gave me a big
shit-eating grin and directed Jack to begin sucking up the cum load he'd just
deposited in her a few minutes ago.

	Rhonda had disappeared some time ago and so I went in search of my
missing wife. It took some doing but I finally tracked her down to the bedroom.
Two of my swinging friends were availing themselves of her services. The female
was squatting over her face so Rhonda could suck her pussy. The man was really
laying the lumber to her. He was supporting himself on his arms and
jack-hammering his cock into her cunt like it was some kind of pneumatic drill
breaking up concrete. Rhonda was grunting in rhythm to every ferocious stroke he
delivered.

	Leaving the trio to their own private fun and games I retreated to the
rec room. One thing was for sure, my dear wife was going to be entertaining
those dogs big time tomorrow. Bad enough she made me have to move heaven and
earth to make sure this little party went off the right way. Now she was
literally laying down on the job.

	The second pair of guys were still plowing away at Connie's gaping
asshole when I got back. I checked to see how Jack was doing. His new friend had
turned over on her stomach and was holding her cheeks apart so my boy could lick
and suck her asshole. From her groans and moans it was pretty obvious that the
the boy had found his true calling. I began to wonder if his mother knew about
his special skills yet. If she had been doing her job, she certainly would have
been made aware of his talent. Then again I wouldn't put it past her if she
hadn't taught this little trick to her son sometime previously.

	Connie was finally able to meet the requirement for a successful
handoff, easily exceeding the previous amount of cum mixed with whatever that
had been deposited in her asshole. So she was put back on the mattress for
another session of baby-making. I got some good shots of the stud filling her
up, as well as her shocked response to his enormous cock rearranging her insides
as it headed for her cervix. This one would leave a lasting impression on the
girl that would carry over to her choice of future sex partners. From now on her
motto would be, "Ten or more or don't come knocking at my door."

	Elsie, the fat girl, bent over, her cheeks spread by one of the judges
to allow the turkey baster to be emptied into her bowels. She put her head onto
the mat, raised her ass and prepared herself for the pounding that her asshole
was about to be taking from the two guys assigned to this anchor leg. They did
not disappoint the audience that had gathered round to watch. They pounded, they
hammered, they jolted, they jammed, they slammed; Elsie's cheeks jiggled and
jounced first this way and then that in response to the furious assault on her
tight asshole. When the second guy finally pulled his twitching cock from deep
in her shitter,signaling that the deed had been done, the audience broke out
into a few cheers and a round of applause for their efforts.

	This kid had played the game before and managed to squeeze out enough
ass drippings to satisfy the judges that the relay lap had been successfully
run. Now came the grand finale. The cup was passed once more to Tammi, who had
started the ball rolling. She now had to take the contents into her mouth, throw
back her head and gurgle with this slimy slop for a full five minutes. Failure
to compete this requirement would result in the disqualification of this team.
There would be a severe penalty to be paid in this event. I zoomed in on her
throat as Tammi started gargling.  

				 Livin' In the Country - Another Prologue


	Well folks, for better or worse I have returned to life in the Ozarks. I
have done this more for the sake of my physical well being rather than to tie
up, if you'll pardon the pun, some loose ends to the story I was telling. There
is an old saying about getting what you wish for, and living to regret it.  I am
here to tell you that there is much truth to that.

	That damned Hungarian refugee finally got to me and one morning I ran
her to earth, sort of. That proved to be a big mistake. The next thing I knew I
was being led by the dick into her bedroom for a rather lengthy getting to know
you session. I had always wondered why she was always having repairs done to her
house, now I know. The only work those fellows were doing was on her hairy body.
I also discovered rather quickly that there also was a reason there were so many
different repairmen working on that house of hers. This woman was rather
demanding and had extremely high expectations. To make matters even more
challenging, one of the more popular buzzwords going around these days, she
seemed to have an aversion to soap and water, not to mention razor blades.

	Now I will confess to enjoying the taste and texture of a fine aged
pussy, and can even come up with some good reasons for using my tongue on a well
maintained butthole, but it became very apparent from the get-go that I was the
prime source of, shall we say, her personal hygiene. Like most members of my
particular sex I will do many strange things for the delights associated with
sinking my blood-filled penis into the wet, firm, but yielding cunt of a willing
woman. I have also been known to on occasion, in the throes of passion, to
nuzzle and even suck on the tender underarms of my partner as she busied herself
making sure that my dipstick met her criteria for form, fit and function, as we
say in the engineering business.

	There is another old saying having to go do with the fact that a stiff
dick has no conscience. I can truly say that not only does my stiff pecker have
no conscience; it lacks good taste, common sense, and has no fear of the
consequences of its actions. I sometimes think that there may be something to
this evolution idea. How else can you account for so many unattractive people
taking up space in this world of ours? What happened next was a perfect
illustration of the workings of evolution.

 	Judit, that proved to be her name, became a creation of nature that my
dick had to possess, despite her flaws and failings. How else could I excuse the
fact that I got down between her legs and began to burrow through that jungle of
matted pubic hair to get at this fetid fountain of fuck sauce known in the
vernacular as her cunt? Arriving at my destination I proceeded to excavate a
stubborn layer of unknown material encrusted around the entrance to her love
canal. I hope you will forgive the very bad pun, but I could not resist, having
actually visited the aforementioned location on one of the more bizarre trips I
took for my former employer. I wasn't able to see much then, since at the time,
the damned ditch was under a few feet of dirty snow. Come to think of it, I
didn't see too much of the Hungarian's canal either.

	I will not bore you with what followed and then followed again, and then
followed for a third time. The thing that really sticks out in my mind was the
fact that each time I plugged this woman's swampy trench my mind seems to have
turned itself off, as if not willing to be a party to the disgusting things that
were occurring at the juncture of our nether regions. I have always liked the
word "nether", and am delighted to be able to use it here.

 	Generally when I make a deposit, especially if the going has been a bit
challenging, to use that buzzword once more, I experience this overwhelming
feeling of weakness, which results in a deep sleep. Such was the case with
Judit. Unfortunately while I lay sleeping she was plotting her next move, much
like her namesake, the best damned female chess player in the world, who also
comes from Hungary. This is the only explanation I can offer for the fact that
during our little tryst I made three deposits, and also managed to give her
pubic hair a reasonably good grooming considering its abundance and general
disrepair. You talk about your split ends; this woman had natural spit curls
formed from material whose origin may not have been from this earth. But all's
well that ends. I managed to convince my shy flower of femininity to join me in
the shower. I hoped that her introduction to soap and water would yield someone
more promising than the shaggy creature I had been copulating with for the
better part of the day. Silly me, Judit proved to be almost completely resistant
to the effects of water, which reacted as if her body was coated with some type
of liquid repellent.

	Perhaps at some time in the future when the saga of Big Rhonda, one of
my favorite human beings, has been completed to my satisfaction, I may return to
the story of me and my neighbor. We are currently taking a break from each
other. Judit has returned to her country of origin for an extended period,
causing a mini depression for the army of handymen who happily serviced her
needs. I on the other hand am currently employing one or two of her former
playmates to get my house into a condition that will allow me to make a killing
in real estate and depart from this part of the world without leaving any
forwarding address. Now, back to my story.



					Chapter 6



	With visions of Rhonda pulling a dog train tomorrow I trundled off to
bed; to sleep, perchance to dream of skinny teens with big bellies running a
relay while a team of crusty  codgers waited anxiously for their turn to fill
these pregnant teen bowels with drug assisted loads of semen. Some time later my
dreams became even stranger; it started to get hard to breath and the stink of
fish filled my nostrils. I became convinced that I was reliving the experience
of Jonah, occupying the belly of a whale. The stink of fish got stronger still
and now I could feel the slime that lined the monster's innards. It was now
impossible to breath for a heavy weight had settled itself on my chest and face.
It was then that I awoke to find myself being swallowed whole by a dripping,
foul smelling, extremely wet pussy attached to a body to which I was unfamiliar.

	As I struggled to defend myself against this marauder, I recognized the
sound of big Rhonda busting a gut with laughter at my plight. Unlike my dear
wife, the mother of many of my children, this intruder had a smooth shaven
coochie. As I used my hands to fend her off, it became apparent that she was not
only naked, but there was plenty of her, a condition that generally appeals to
me.

	"Stop fooling around and wake the hell up! Your services are desperately
required by two sexually frustrated women and you're the only man currently
available to solve our problem."

 	I immediately recognized the dulcet tones of my faithful slut of a wife
and rose up, throwing the heavy weight of unidentified naked flesh, ass over tea
kettle, onto the bed. I was royally pissed for the way these two had interrupted
my very nice dream involving those young pregnant teens. For some unknown reason
it suddenly dawned on me that I had been one of those lucky codgers getting
ready to pump some juice into some caboose. I was now on the verge of kicking
ass and taking names. However before I could swing into action Rhonda spoke out
again.

	"May and I wore out her boyfriend playing suck and swap with his cum.
Now we need some dude who can deliver the goods until we've had our fill. It was
May who suggested we wake you up so we can keep playing. I don't know where she
got the idea you were some kind of stud, but at least you are reliable, most of
the time. Now we need someone to start the game going again by filling one of us
up with a nice big load of hot, chewy cum; the kind that don't get too watery
after its been swapped between gums and cunts. So why don't you roll over and
sink that stiff length of cock that aint currently doing anything into May's
cunt so we can commence sucking, swapping and gargling. We'll wake you back up
when we need some more cum, just in case you don't want to bother seeing us go
at things."

	I will say one thing for that bitchy wife of mine, she has a mouth on
her that aint just good for sucking. That forked tongue can really do a man some
damage when she puts her mind behind it. Currently I felt myself bleeding in a
number of places from her remarks. I could not imagine any man worth mentioning
rolling over and going to sleep when he had the chance of watching two well
upholstered women moving his seed from cunt to mouth to mouth and back to cunt
again with some cum gargling in between. Based on my knowledge of this popular
game, those are the rules. Once this tricky tranfer of wigglers has been
accomplished, another injection of fresh cum is required to allow the game to
continue. I have had the pleasure of watching such a feat being performed by a
number of ladies who proved to be most adept at this exercise. To have the
opportunity of watching my wife working with another equally talented practioner
of the art would be a treat. The only thing that was necessary for this event to
resume was some coaxing on their part, seeing as the bad dream had taken the
starch out of my pecker.

	"Looks like he needs some stiffening. May, you lick his balls while I
see how much of that limp thing I can fit inside my mouth."

	Damned if that harridan hadn't winged me again! I closed my eyes and
tried to think good thoughts, settling on watching a prevue of big Rhonda and
about twenty dogs all fighting over who was gonna get what part and for how long
of that heavy duty body. It was about this time that I felt the soothing
sensation associated with a pebbly tongue running gently across my scrotum,
followed by a warm, wet mouth engulfing my family jewels. I made a mental note
to myself to make sure that I cultivated this mystery lady during the events
that would be taking place tomorrow. It would serve Rhonda right if while she
was doing dogdom, and thus unable to provide me with the intimate services to
which I had grown accustomed to, that her new and rather skilled friend would be
substituting for her.

	Between Rhonda and May my interest in things sexual was restored. Rhonda
graciously allowed me to have access to her friend's nether regions, commenting
to May, as if I was no longer present, that her boyfriend had dumped his final
load of wigglers into her cunt. Thus in the interests of fairness I should be
the one to begin this new round in May, deep in May as it turned out to be.
Normally under circumstances such as these, I initially prefer to lie quietly on
my back while my partner, whoever she may be, does the hard work of bouncing her
big beefy body up and down on my hard cock.In this way I conserve my strength
for future encounters of the closest kind, and sort of guarantee that unless my
partner turns into a troll or some other unappetizing creature, there will be a
return engagement in very short order.

	 Evidently for this game my strategy had to be drastically modified. I
remembered seeing the boyfriend in a position that required a considerable
amount of his energies since the objective was to inject his load as deep into
his partner's cunt as was humanly possible. The only way to accomplish this feat
and stay clear of my wife's impressive beer gut was to assume the position he
had been utilizing. This was not to my liking since from our brief encounter it
was obvious that May was easily the match for my fun-loving wife when it came to
the area of beer guts. Doggy was out of the question due to matters associated
with angle of attack and trajectory, both highly technical issues understood
only by rocket scientists, thus not worth discussing at this juncture in my
story.

	I mounted up, dug my spurs into her hefty flanks and commenced
rearranging May's innards while my dear wife looked on with this greedy look
plastered across her face. I guess she was already thinking about the next turn
or perhaps she was passing some gas; with Rhonda one never can tell all the
time. I focused on the job at hand, delivering as much energy to my guided
muscle as nature intended, enjoying the feel of my belly bouncing off her gut
and the sound she made every time I touched bottom. This unknown pussy was
turning out to be a real find. Her cunt had a nice way of wrapping itself around
my cock on the down stroke and fighting like fury when I tried to drag free of
her vise-like grip. There was just enough light for me to get a decent look at
her bouncing boobs with their silver dollar sized areolas and nipples as big
across and stiff as quarters. I could not resist the urge to bend forward and
fan my tongue across those hard bumps, then bite down on them in rhythm with my
thrusts into her squishing, clasping cunt. Damn, I was having a hell of a good
time drilling this package of USDA prime fuckmeat! Then May shifted into
overdrive and started matching me push for shove. I began mentally kicking
myself in the butt for not sampling some of those red and blue pills that had
been making the rounds this evening.

	The only thing that saved the day was the fact that Rhonda started
snickering when May went into high gear and I had some difficulty keeping
abreast(I use that word deliberately here), with my partner. I buckled down to
the task at hand and went into corkscrew mode which broke her concentration long
enough for me to shift into a higher gear, or was it the afterburners? Either
way it was a brilliant move on my part and carried the day, or was it night? May
started grunting and wheezing as my mindless pounding took its toll of her
insides. I was hitting the mark on every stroke now and pounding her pussy into
mush. It was touch and go for a moment, then she let out a howl and commenced
having an eye-crossing orgasm of epic proportions. That was all the stimulous I
needed to commence firing on all cylinders and burying her in an avalanche of
hot cum that felt like it was on fire as it left my twitching cock. The silence
from my wife was a joy to experience. May was just hanging on for dear life at
this point. She later confessed, while we were reknewing our vows of
non-celibacy and spousal duplicity, that for a brief moment(just about the same
time as she farted), she felt very close to her maker. It was a Trojan moment,
that's for sure.

	Even though I felt as if I had just climbed six floors with a grand
piano on my back, my mind was abuzz with reflections and instant replays of what
just had happened in my epic struggle with the masked marvel of maternity. I had
survived a near death experience that would remain with me for at least half a
day or so. It was a time for contemplation, not to mention witnessing one of the
hottest sixty-nines between two women that I had ever seen. May, of course, was
on top, her head buried between the massive columns that passed for Rhonda's
legs. My wife's mouth was glued to May's cunt. It was truly amazing how much
force Rhonda could develop merely by suctioning out all the air that had been
trapped in the folds of her companion's passageway. It probably must have been
my imagination but I could swear there was a time when it appeared that May's
beer gut was disappearing as if some unearthly creature had poked a straw into
that mound of flab and started sucking it up into its maw.

	When you think about it, it's a pretty neat trick to suck a load of cum
out of a cunt and not swallow any of it, especially when gravity is going
against you. The next day May explained the fine points of successfully draining
a nice big chewy load of cum from another woman's cunt without drowning in one's
own saliva. It has to do with taking quick, short breaths as you work the cum
forward, and then switching over to the hoovering mode to extract the cum from
its hiding places. That is the tricky point in the process, one false move and
you could be choking down an unexpected load of cum, thus disqualifying yourself
from that round of the contest. At the time she was imparting this knowledge to
me, we were watching while Rhonda simultaneously was sucking one dog's dick
while another jackhammered away inside her cunt that was beginning to take on
the appearance of a baboon's ass.  I had to admit at the time that this was a
perfect case of having knowledge for knowledge's sake.  However, being a
gentleman at all times, I hung on every word that tripped from her bee stung
lips, imagining them wrapped around my stiff pecker.

	May and Rhonda were very good at this activity and usually it took many
exchanges before someone made a false move and paid the price. The price in
question is always determined in advance by an agreement between the parties
involved. It might range from something as simple as the loser eating the winner
to a couple of orgasms, or as serious as having to be the sex slave of the
winner for an extended period of time. In this case the loser might have to
become a "play for pay" type with her fees going to her temporary owner, or
enjoying the attention and consideration one would receive as the fuck pig at an
all day gangbang or bangs, depending upon the seriousness of the wager. Those
were the world champion grudge match type of penalties, and were not part of the
amateur world peopled by women such as May and my wife.

	At this point I must confess to a most humiliating situation. Just about
the time I was watching my dear wife gargling my cum which she had successfully
extracted from her companion's innards, I fell victim to a bout of weakness.
This was no doubt caused by my interrupted sleep coupled with the unexpected
expenditure of energy that had been required on my part to restart the contest.
According to Rhonda, who delights in telling this story to all and sundry who
will listen, they were unable to rouse me from my slumber, despite all manner of
manipulations to my flaccid sex organ.

	The temptation to describe all the goings-on that took place once I
awoke from my visit to the land of Nod is strong, but I will resist since other
forces are currently plucking at my sleeve and other parts of me as well. I
trust that you will have enjoyed this little romp in the country and will come
back when next I set up shop on this site.

Livin'In the Country


					Epilogues and Prologues- One More Time


	Those of you who have been following the adventures of Rhonda and myself
as we do what comes unnaturally will no likely be quite surprised to discover
another contribution from yours truly in such a short time. This is a perfect
illustration of the power of the pussy. No pussy means idle hands, in a matter
of speaking, and the drive to seek some form of substitute for that hairy,
juicy, box lunch that most members of the other species become quickly addicted
to. I for one have been practicing self-abuse with much more frequency since
Judit left the premises. In my quest for satisfaction of a sort, I have been
frequenting the amateur wife and picture swapping sites, some of which are still
free provided you don't mind wading through hip deep pop-ups and the like.

 	To my utter amazement I have discovered that even this last bastion of
"free" speech has fallen victim to the dreaded quadrennial plague that has
descended on our land of the "sort of" free and the home of the "for hire"
brave. People are taking sides on nonsensical issues that are nonsensical, and
urging self abusers like myself to vote for their candidate who I discover has
sworn a great oath to his creator (no capitalization warranted or intended) to
make certain that I will be unable to deviate from the accepted sexual mores
declared to be true by the church of the USA under the penalty of imprisonment
or forfeiture of my worldly goods. That is one hell of a note.

	 As one wit so accurately described these political folk, he separates
them into the party of bad ideas and the party of no ideas. I personally go one
step further when it comes to the party standard bearers who appear to be the
type of candidates that a country such as we have become, deserves. On the one
hand we have literally a man for all seasons and a man for all reasons who has
the uncanny knack of being able to speak out of both sides of his mouth at the
same time. I liken him to a shape shifter, one of my favorite characters from
fantasy games. His worthy opponent is the incumbent war lord/draft dodger who
claims he is installing democracy, whatever that is these days, into other
places so that their lot in life will be wonderfully improved. It sort of
reminds me of the way that the heathens in Europe and other areas were
"converted" by those who had the better weapons or larger armies. This of course
also meant that god was on their side.(Sound familiar?)  By the way, we are
technically a republic, a subtlety that seems to befuddle all our elected
representatives who usually place "party" loyalty first, no matter what.

	Please accept my humble apologies for this foray into folly, which is
the way I view our political system. The lack of good pussy, or any pussy for
that matter, affects me in many strange ways, this being one of the milder
manifestations that I must deal with on a daily basis. Having gored every one
else's ox, I will now move on to describe what happened the next day when I
awoke and discovered that livin' in the country had become even more interesting
and entertaining.




					Chapter 7



	I awoke to bright sunshine, a strange odor and the sight of
approximately 400 pounds of female flesh situated within arm's distance of where
I lay. It took a moment to identify my loving wife, Rhonda, who had her face
within a few inches of a shaved snatch that I vaguely recalled belonged to
someone named May or was it June? It looked to me like Rhonda had buried her
face into a puddle of whitish goo. She was caked from eyebrows to chin with this
substance. The odor I had detected was emanating from that material. Then I
remembered some more about the game they were playing and concluded it must be
the essence that was contained deep within May or June's cunt. A few seconds
later it dawned on me that part of that substance most likely had originated
within me and been co-joined inside the sleeping stranger, finally being drawn
out by the unquenchable thirst of my rabid wife for sexual liquids of all types.
When it came to suctioning, my wife was world class. Many a time I had
experienced the combined joy and sheer terror of having my cock engulfed by the
awesome vacuum that this woman could generate. Not even the French, who are said
to have a word for anything, or is it everything, could produce words that
accurately defined the sensations this woman could produce in the male genitalia
once she had built up a good head of steam.

	Since they were showing no signs that they wished to resume whatever
nice things they had been performing on both me and themselves, I decided to do
a reconnaissance, that's another of them French words, to see if there was any
life stirring around the place. There was indeed! I had taken no more than a
dozen steps in the direction of the nearest toilet when I spied a bevy of
bountiful bare breasts bouncing along as their owners balanced heaping plates of
food in their hands. I could not recall these particular ladies, but in view of
all the activity that had been taking place all over the house, this was not too
surprising. I made a mental note to make the acquaintance of this group once I
relieved myself of whatever was stretching my bladder.

	Somewhat less encumbered I followed my nose to where enormous
quantitites of hot food was being turned out by another group of more senior
ladies, most of whom wore nothing more than panties and a big smile. I was
distracted some by the variety of bare bosoms that were on display. There were
big ones, real big in some cases, and small ones, down to bite size I'd judge.
Some were round like melons, others had the appearance of pears or guords, a few
reminded me of different kinds of apples, and one set in particular had taken on
the characteristics of the fruit of the lemon tree. A few pushed up and out,
possibly assisted by the skills of modern plastic surgery. Others reacted to the
force of gravity, ranging from slight sagging to total surrender to the miseries
of weakened pectoral muscles. Despite these variations from the ideal, every one
of these ladies, god bless them, possessed a pussy and that my friends is what
it's all about, the pussy. Attached to the right kind of brain and attitude, the
pussy is the most powerful creation ever put on this planet, and we of the other
species should know and appreciate that fact.

	Now that I had been properly fortified I set out to find the dog handler
so we could discuss the details involved in matching his dog pack with my wife.
I knew for a fact, but never let on that I did, that Ronda had a thing for man's
best friend. This loving, trustworthy mother and wife had a loyal following of
four legged fans of the canine persuation. In a sense this would be her coming
out party. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine Rhonda the debutante, being
presented to dog society. It was a real strange sight to put it bluntly, and one
upon which I did not choose to dwell further.

	Since Rhonda was a big woman the handler wanted to have her restrained
so that she wouldn't harm his animals when they started doing her. His
suggestion of having her kneel while her head and hands were held in a wooden
stock made sense. Her ankles would be fixed to stakes to keep her properly
positioned while the dogs had their way with either of her holes. I was a bit
concerned about the effect of the dog's knot if he went off inside her asshole,
but was assured that the average woman could handle this discomfort with no
problem once she had been through the initial experience. When he added the
observation that in his opinion my wife was definitely not your average woman,
he won me over.

	I was most impressed by his knowledge and the physical setup he planned
to provide. He would assemble a fairly narrow dog run from wire fencing with a
passage at either end through which a single dog would be released. He would
have Rhonda placed in the stock at the midpoint of the run so that she would be
available from either side. To make sure that either end of Rhonda was equally
attractive to the animals, her face and hind quarters would be seasoned with the
scent of a bitch in heat to act as the proper stimulus. To avoid any unnecessary
damage to my wife, a plastic mask, much like those worn by hockey goalies would
protect her face and leave her mouth open and available for whatever pleasure
the furry fucker wanted to obtain from her. Her back and legs would be covered
with sturdy denim padding to prevent the excited animal from scratching her
during the mounting process. I pronounced myself satisfied with the man's
arrangement and agreed that within the hour my loving wife would be turned over
to him.

	With almost an hour to kill I started wandering about the house looking
for trouble if it was available. As I passed a closed door well off the main
hall of our place my keen ears detected the sounds of people doing what comes
naturally around these parts. What made me pause was that I recognized Jack's
voice among the sighs and slapping of bare flesh against flesh. It dawned on me
that I hadn't seen hide nor hair of the four boys who had been drafted as
replacements for the still recovering Marty, yet to put in an appearance at my
little clambake. Curiosity overcame good sense and so I barged in to find out
what the hell was going on.

	My first impression was that I had somehow stumbled into one of those
rugby scrums, because I was confronting this pile of writhing bodies. It was not
immediately obvious who was doing what to whom, but there sure was a lot of
doing going on. Suddenly most of these naked forms began scrambling for new
positions, and I recognized my son, Jack, as he pulled back from the pile and
quickly took up a position at the head of the moving mass of folks. Meanwhile
another one of the lost boys had replaced my son; I call him that because Rhonda
thinks he might have been mine. It was at this point that the center of the pile
began loudly berating those attempting to service her. Jack stepped forward and
jammed his rigid cock into the complainer's mouth, cutting her off in mid-bitch.
Her voice sounded familiar even though it was impossible to gain a clear view of
her body since it currently was being being poked and prodded by a number of
stiff cocks. One thing I did notice, and it gave me pause for concern. The
mysterious lady had her hands cuffed behind her back.

	As I prepared to wade into the mass of fucking humanity, the mystery
lady managed to spit Jack's cock from her mouth. As soon as she said, "No, you
damned fool it's feces, not shit! No, I can't taste my shit off your dick. Yes,
my feces do taste wonderful as I suck them from your penis!" I knew it was Mimi
Marlowe, or Ms. Marlowe to the students. I remembered her from the pileup in the
bathroom last night. How or why she had gotten herself involved in this exercise
that we men called making them airtight, was none of my business provided she
was doing this on her own volition. I got my answer when the new guy replacing
my possible son on her asshole began jackhammering her for all he was worth. She
let out a loud moan and urged the rascal to "Pound me to a pulp you nasty boy.
Give Ms. Marlowe all you have, she really needs it."

	 I wondered how long those four young studs had been sawing away on her
saggy body. The way they were arranged with one stud always resting up while his
three companions stretched and pummeled all her orifices, not holes, orifices,
they could keep this up for a very long time. I decided not to break things up
since their services were not presently required by those assembled in the
meeting hall. I had to hand it to Mimi, the cuffs were a very nice touch. I'll
bet it kept those teens turned on continuously as they did her every which way
they could. They had their ball breaking teacher at their mercy, so they
thought, and they were going to show her who the boss was with a vengeance. I
wondered how she kept from laughing at such foolishness.

	The condition of Marty caused me to take another detour to check on the
progress of our two rather shopworn guests. I don't know who was more surprised
when I opened the door to their bedroom, me or Marty. The little rascal was
firmly attached at the groin to his senseless wife, the lovely and fragile
Marie. It was apparent to me that he was having sexual congress with this
sleeping beauty, something usually reserved for extremely special occasions and
no doubt properly witnessed by her lawyer and perhaps a few dozen of his closest
friends who were assembled to use her services as well. I could not avoid
frowning at this forbidden behavior and he withdrew his needle dick from his
wife's portal and turned a rather interesting shade of vermillion.

	"Bad Marty, bad boy" I shouted, wagging my finger at him as he cowered,
his long skinny dick rapidly collapsing in upon itself. This was a breach in the
trust Rhonda and I had in his integrity. I was determined to come up with a
suitable punishment to make him understand my disappointment with his untoward
behavior when it came to conjugal relations, especially when his partner's
wishes in this matter had not been sought. He followed me like the whipped dog
that he was as I led him back to the main hall to meet his fate and at the same
time make things a bit more interesting for our guests.

	Those lovely ladies who had spent many hours in the hot kitchen feeding
the menfolk and building up some degree of irritation over the lack of
appreciation for their efforts were delighted to get a token of their host's
appreciation. When I described what Marty had been doing to his unconscious wife
when I so rudely interrupted him, their faces clouded up, preparing a deluge
that would soon rain down upon his candy ass. His behavior at this point
indicated that this sissy boy thought he had just died and gone to heaven. His
long skinny dick had rapidly uncoiled and was now stiff as the proverbial board.
This was not lost on the ladies who descended upon him as he awaited his fate.

	The prospect of nearly a dozen big, beefy women with their hearts filled
with vengeance was a dream come true to this little wimp. I realized that he was
not a self-made man, rather he was his momma's production from the moment he
popped from her belly. I think most of the women had come to the same
conclusion, recognizing the product of a domineering mother. If there was any
doubt, he let the cat out of the bag while they were binding his hands tightly
behind his back. In this little boy's voice he began pleading, "Don't hurt me
mommy, I'll be good, I promise." The looks on the ladies' faces reminded me of a
hungry lioness about to pounce on some prey. As they say, this was going to be
one of those win-win situations.

	There is not sufficient time at this point in my tale to describe all
the goings on that did occur as the ladies did their best to make poor Marty
wish he had truly been born as a member of the ruling species, instead of some
weak missing link between the two separate but coexisting members of the animal
kingdom. His ultimate fate is also a tale worth telling since that involves Ms.
Marlowe and Marie as well. I do however faithfully promise to share my
recollections about these events once I am done trying to describe all the other
things that happened in the next few hours.

	Having done my good deed for the day, I decided to stroll back to my
bedroom and break the good news to Rhonda. The two love birds were still sound
asleep, probably dreaming of eating lots of the salty white stuff mixed perhaps
with gash goo. The sight of so much rounded, naked female flesh almost caused me
to deviate from plan, but I stayed the course, shaking Rhonda's shoulder and
then slapping her tit to wake her up. At first she feigned to not be able to
understand my message, acting innocent when it came to the issue of working with
our four legged friends. Innocence in turn morphed into righteous indignation,
and finally resignation when I gave her one of my classic shit-eating grins as I
woofed at her and pointed toward the door.

	"Rhonda, don't try to make me believe that you never fooled around with
our dogs. Those dumb brutes can really tell a story unless you're very careful.
I don't know how many times those critters could hardly drag their tired asses
out to the porch after having been used as your playmates. I see nothing wrong
with loving the creatures of the field; it's just not something that makes a
whole hell of a lot of sense to me when there is so much pussy stalking the
earth looking for us two legged kind." My forceful arguement carried the day and
my faithful, loving wife dragged her ass into the bathroom to freshen up before
going literally to the dogs.

	I went outside to warm up the crowd for the event that was about to take
place. Within minutes there were approximately twenty folks of various ages,
sexes and stages of dress gathered around the dog run. They broke out into
applause as my life-mate, Rhonda, strolled onto the premises fetchingly attired
in red lipstick, heavy mascara and a big smile. She allowed the dog handler, who
preferred to be identified as the master of the hounds, to fit her into the
stocks and make sure that the correct protective gear was properly installed. He
then made a brief speech to the crowd outlining the heritage of the pack that
was about to assault my now repentant wife.

	It's kind of interesting to understand the relationship of humans to
dogs in this part of the country. A dog is a member of the family, a working
member who earns his or her keep by watching out for and protecting the younger
family members, guarding the family goods and property, and assisting the family
in such endeavors as hunting and fishing. These various functions require that
the dog be of sufficient size and intelligence to carry out any and all of these
activities. For this reason our local dogs, or hounds as some might call them,
are generally medium to large breeds. Nature being what it is, these few breeds
co-mingle and within a few dog generations the local population evolves rather
quickly into a homogeneous single breed known generally as the local hound. It
was these local hounds that Rhonda was about to interact with as part of the
morning's entertainment.

	Without further ado the master of the hounds released the first two
dogs, one from each end of the dog run. It was quite obvious from the behavior
of this first pair that his animals had been around the block more times than a
person could count. Each member of the team made a beeline for the end of Rhonda
that was nearest at hand. The seasoning that had been used to make her more
attractive to these furry fuckers was evidently to their liking. In less time
than it takes to tell they had dropped their cocks and were busily mounting
themselves to whatever part of Rhonda they had selected.

	The animal working on her front side had his cock going a mile a minute
in no time flat, blistering her gums with his hard length of red tipped meat.
His partner in show business was not too far behind, his paws wrapped around her
midsection, as much as her girth would allow, and his pecker blindly poking away
until it hit pay dirt in her pussy. When it comes to fucking speed, there are
very few members of the animal kingdom who can keep up with the properly
motivated canine. I will have to admit that I have been told that the king of
the beasts is no slouch in this department either and he can go all night, which
is probably why he holds the title of king.

	Left to their own devices, dogs would have fucked themselves into
extinction many thousands of years ago, depriving untold numbers of ladies the
kind of thrill and intensity that no man can hope to equal. Fortunately mother
nature, in her infinite wisdom, has installed a mechanism within the dog that
acts to prevent those furry fuckers from doing themselves in. It is known as the
knot. When a dog shots his wad a section of his dick swells up and unites him in
an umbreakable embrace with his partner who only moments ago he had been
attempting to turn inside out with the power of his dick. Like the male of most
species, once the thrill is gone all that dumb dog wants to do is leave the
premises as quickly as possible or go to sleep. Neither option is open to him
thanks to that lover's lock. This is not a good time to be a dog. It's sort of
like the cooling-off period in a divorce proceeding. The dog is now in a no
fucking zone if you get my drift.

	The dog handler, being quite experienced in his vocation knew that left
on its own, the dog doing Rhonda's mouth would continue his assault until she
either drown or her face collapsed. So he speedily and gingerly removed the
animal from the enclosure allowing her to recover some feeling in her face and
giving the audience some time to socialize before the next team of hounds were
let loose on my wife. It was at this point that I detected this strange odor
that I had awakened to this morning.

	Before I could make my move to ascertain its source, I felt this warm
hand kind of cupping my family jewels from the rear. Lo and behold if it wasn't
May, or was it June? This creature of loveliness mesmerized me in my tracks. My
feet were frozen to the ground, which was a good trick considering it was
already damn near ninety degrees out here under that sweltering sun. I turned my
head and beheld whoever she was in all her glory. She was about half a head
shorter than myself and a lot younger than I had originally thought her to be.

	 All she had on was this tiny blue bikini bathing suit. Its top sort of
ended a millimeter above her nipples that were winning the war with the fabric.
Those babies must have been 42DD and they were standing proudly on their own,
much like my dear wife's did when we were young and in lust. She had an
impressive beer gut that sheltered her pussy from the rays of the sun. I managed
to detect a hint of blue peeking out from all that tan flesh and assumed that
her cunt was properly encased in more of that same stretchy fabric. It was about
then that I realized I had forgotten to breathe in some time, and quickly
refreshed myself with a lungful of air which cleared my head considerably. It
also increased the flow of blood to my lower region, bringing a knowing smile
from this awesome creature. What happened next will have to be told later when I
continue this little tale about me and mine livin' in the country.

       Livin'In the Country



						 Another Prologue

	Looks as if I am about to escape with a whole skin from the land of smog
and other abnormalities. My new destination has a much lower density of
available pussy, but it does appear to be fresher in the sense that folks there
seem to care more about a person's innards than the projected persona that
seemed to be a requirement to get decent pussy in the old place. It is also
definitely true that the new home of old Jethro has a decidedly freer outlook on
all things including one's right to privacy. Now if I can only survive the rainy
winter that this place usually features.

	I would imagine that most of the readers are not here to listen to me
run my mouth about things that are of little interest to them. In that spirit I
will pick up from where I left off, which was with some woman's hand on my
scrotum and my development of some serious wood from her presence.



						Chapter 8


	I found myself preoccupied by this growing manifestation of my sexual
interest in this rather large young woman who was intruding upon my space, such
as it was. I immediately detected the aroma of marinating pussy, a scent I was
familiar with. It took me but a moment to realize that it was wafting up from
beneath that beer gut shelf guarding the entrance to her best feature. My eyes
shifted upwards to enjoy the sight of her mammoth mammary glands rising and
falling, with each movement an adventure as I awaited the sight of those beach
balls breaking free of their moorings and popping out for all to see. I began to
sweat profusely, and it had nothing to do with the weather. This woman was
emitting pheromones, and I was responding. In case you don't know what they are,
the next time you see some fireflies wandering around blinking their headlights,
that's sort of what was happening between her and me. It's those damned
pheromones; funny that the French didn't come up with a name for that stuff
first.

	Taking the bull or was it the cow, by the horns, I confessed that I
hadn't caught her name last night. May, that was her name, gave me a grin that
meant my goose had just avoided becoming cooked and said she was not surprised
seeing as how she and I were rather wrapped up in our business and needed to
focus all our attention on making sure it was done properly. Now that's not
exactly how she said it. Her words were quite direct and a bit more colorful,
which is something that can be a curse or a blessing in a woman. I guess it
depends on how long you and she have been going along together and how well the
going-together has been.

	Being the devious type I first attempted to smoke her out on the subject
of open marriage, such as was the relationship between Rhonda and I. She
wrinkled her pug nose, I like those kind, and replied that the question had no
meaning since she was not married. I then placed my foot squarely in my mouth
and mentioned the fact that I had seen her and some stud involved with my loving
wife prior to the meeting between the three of us later on that evening. She
flashed me a glance that cut deep. Damn these women, even their looks can do
some serious damage to a man's "self esteem" to use a phrase that is bandied
about by a whole lot of folks these days.

	She then proceeded to explain to me in words of one syllable, or so it
seemed, that the stud in question was the husband of somebody attending my
clambake. She, in turn, was here in the company of her widowed mother who I
figured was probably one of those senior ladies slaving away in the kitchen. I
ran my memory in reverse in an attempt to figure which one it might be.
Unfortunately I could not associate any face with those ladies who possessed
generously sized breasts, not surprising considering my state at the time. My
pecker had begun to lose its starch as her words fell like bricks upon my head.
I silently cursed myself for being an old fool and began to prepare my exit
strategy, another buzz word phrase that I have become enamored with.

	I was so busy plotting and scheming to escape with my dignity intact
that I nearly jumped out of my skin when she came close and whispered in my ear,
"Your wife seems kind of busy. Why don't you and I take a little walk and find
some place where we can fuck in peace." I do not recall being led from the yard
by my dick, but that would not have come as any surprise in my dazed condition.
I was being carried away to the promised land, so it seemed. There were a few
people who were kind of scandalized that I would desert my dear wife in her hour
of need. To them all I can say is that those dogs seemed to be doing a damned
good job occupying her attention and fulfilling her needs. I was superfluous; by
the way that's a French word too.

	We returned to where the morning had begun for both of us, only this
time we were wide awake and rarin' to go. I watched her jiggle and wiggle out of
those two tiny pieces of stretchy fabric revealing completely a set of jugs made
for sucking, squeezing, nibbling, nuzzling, not to mention biting, bouncing,
hefting and handling, plus the ever popular tit fucking. There can be no doubt
that daylight is a much better time to survey the type of physical ripeness she
displayed. Last night, in the darkness, I might have judged this paragon of
plumpness, who had some of the most marvelous nooks and crannies a man ever had
the delight to behold, as perhaps a tad above average based on touch alone. It
would have been akin to the seven blind men and the elephant. This is not to say
that May in any way would remind any sighted man of that lumbering beast of the
jungle.

	"That was a pretty good workout you gave my pussy last night. For an old
guy you can still bring it pretty good, I like that in a man. Now please don't
disappoint me like so many of your kind have in the past." As she challenged me,
her hands had wandered down to that smooth, fat-lipped pussy that was hiding out
beneath her belly and began spreading and kneading her best feature. Under
normal conditions I would have mounted a direct frontal assault on her position,
seeking to overwhelm it with superior force. However being somewhat older, and
gifted with guile that has ably assisted me in surviving in the world of the
untamed pussy, I took a more round-about method of breaching her defenses.

	At my request she spread herself out on the bed and eyeballed me through
the valley between those magnificent, mouth-watering mounds as I stretched out
between her delightful thighs and pressed forward to capture that meaty pussy
with my mouth. The desire and ability to eat pussy will serve any man well
despite his physical, moral and mental faults and failings. If there is anything
in our limited arsenal that is effective in allowing us to survive in a world
ruled by members of the other sex, it is this skill. Unfortunately among the
race of men this is not something that is openly spoken of except among the more
sophisticated members of the tribe. It is not a skill passed from one generation
to the other; fathers don't usually discuss this art form with their sons.
Rather it is one of those arcane pieces of knowledge that seems to randomly
strike a few of us as truth and a way to the pussy. I do believe that our
Chinese friends call this "tao" or some such unpronounceable word.

	The old saw about "practice makes perfect" is most appropriate when it
comes to eating pussy. I became a practioner of the art at a very early age
thanks to the efforts of my older sister who devoted countless hours to my
training. I was taught about those special places that a lady finds most
enticing when someone is lapping away on her genitals. I learned to understand
the language of the pussy; what its movements meant, when it was happy, when it
was not. I discovered as my experience increased and my thoughtful sister added
fresh pussy to the mix, that no two pussies are alike despite statements to the
contrary from those who have never gotten closer than five feet from one of
those mysterious grottos. I have eaten enough pussy to understand that if I
could live for a thousand more years I would still know very little about this
delightful organ from which all men arrived.

	May's pussy had a funky aroma and a tart-sweet taste with a hint of
earth and greenery to paraphrase one of those folk who writes wine reviews. It
was still far from its peak with respect to texture and finish, but the youthful
combination of fresh flesh and delicate but memorable hints of maturity and body
was enough to satify even the most critical palate. Cutting to the chase, it was
damned fine pussy and there was no way a sane man could get enough of this
juicy, tasty muskmelon that was ripening between her thighs. I proceeded to make
a pig of myself.

	This young woman was most forgiving of my bad manners. Perhaps my
enthusiasm for her sweetest spot overcame the rough way in which I attempted to
pleasure it. All I can remember was that she gently grabbed me by the ears and
used them the same way one would handle the reins on a fractious horse or other
dumb animal. Despite the fact that she used only a few words such as "deeper,
more tongue, faster, slower and the dreaded, not there", her adept handling of
the reins had me moving over areas that were new to me, and evidently most
pleasant to her. I could probably go on about this magical first contact between
my tongue and her pussy, but there are not enough words in a French dictionary
to describe the plethora of sensations and emotions that were induced by this
young lady's enchanting garden of delights.

	When I finally came up for air, my face coated with a sheen of sweat and
her precious essences, she announced that it was time we went riding and this
time she was gonna really put the spurs to me. Since I had not had my normal
morning release of semen yet, I looked forward to this little ride in the park
with a great deal of excitement. She patted the bed next to her and rolled on
her side to let me get into position. As I mentioned previously my favorite
position is one in which my partner does most of the work; this was not to be.
She climbed on board and dug her heels into my sides and grinned down at me. I
could feel her stomach pressing my body into the mattress, making it difficult
to get a good toehold. Moreover when she planted her tits squarely on my face I
knew it was going to be a very long morning. Let me tell you, it was no ride in
the park. We went through brush, streams, up switchbacks and down into deep
gullies, all at top speed.

	I thrust and she gave grudgingly, an inch at a time. When I was finally
seated she rose up, took a deep breath and started grinding away, her big tits
bouncing off my face. Those bags were big enough and firm enough to do damage. I
began to fear for my safety as she kicked me into another gear, her beefy body
moving like she was on ball bearings. I began to huff and puff and she laughed
at my struggles to keep myself properly situated. I closed my eyes and thought
good thoughts as she wore me down to the nub. I got both hands on that awesome
backside and squeezed those hams as hard as I could to communicate the fact that
I was on the verge of becoming unconscious. By then we had both worked up a good
lather due to the lack of any form of air conditioning in the room. I could feel
beads of sweat, not perspiration, dripping off those great tits and splashing
down onto my face. She nearly had me pinned by then and I began to be concerned
that my muscles would fail me before I could launch the millions upon millions
of mindless sperm that would blindly seek the holy grail. At that very moment
she took to sneezing, one good one after another, the sign of an allergy attack.
I was to be saved. In truth this was a case of deus ex machina, compliments of
mother nature herself. May's concentration now disturbed, I sneakily wedged
myself into a slightly better stance and used the leverage to successfully
launch my payload. By then she was too busy trying to breathe to even notice
that the deed had been done. Ever the gentleman, I grew quiet and hung on for
dear life as she finally overcame whatever had been tormenting her.

	May gave me a big smile and deliberately bounced her tits off my face
one more time. I sighed and started to lick the beads of sweat off those
beauties. "That was pretty good all things considered." May said in a soft voice
as she used her cunt muscles to give my cock a gentle squeeze to acknowdedge its
presence. I gave her my best little boy smile and sucked her nipples.

	 "You do know what you're doing most of the time, but you could still
stand a few more lessons when it comes to eating this girl's box and you
definitely need to get into better shape if you and I are ever going to do some
serious fucking. I presume your wife would have no  objections if I came over
now and then to give you some pointers and check out your physical
conditioning."

	Her words were music to my ears. Then it dawned on me that poor Rhonda
was out there all alone standing off a pack of sex crazed dogs while I was in
bed with this bundle of prime grade fuckmeat. It was almost enough to make a man
feel guilty. The operative word in that last statement is "almost". One thing I
learned very early in life was that a stiff dick has no conscience.

	Emboldened by the fact that I had passed my preliminary exams, I
escorted my teacher out to where my sweaty wife was handling a pair of four
legged-fuckers for the second time. A few people gave me some funny looks,
probably jealous of my good fortune. Someone told me that Rhonda was only one
more set of dogs away from doing the pack twice, an impressive feat considering
the heat and her inabilty to move very much while they were doing her. I am not
at all sure that she was aware of the fact that I had strayed a bit with her
friend from last night. I truly doubt that she was in any condition to even care
much about my latest foray into the wild and wonderful world of the willing
female. It was then that Ms. Marlowe and her little charges made their
appearance.

	The school teacher seemed none the worse for the lengthy "ordeal" of
having her private parts pounded to pulp by a group of acne afflicted teens.
Like most of the folks in attendance she chose to wear her birthday suit which
was in need of some ironing to take out the wrinkles in a few places. There was
a stream of milky fluid issuing from her nether regions, back and front. I also
could observe that her droopy tits had some fresh markings that could only have
been the result of rough or careless handling on the part of her partners in
lust. Her sagging bottom was even more impressively decorated with areas of
various hues ranging from red to blue-black. I could even make out the imprint
of a hand on one of her pebbled cheeks. It had been applied with considerable
force and more than a few times to create the depth of color that had been
produced. I began to muse that possibly this dominant, aggressive molder of
minds had a softer, more submissive side. I'd have to inquire about this matter
to my "son", Jack.

	The last pair of dogs was just finishing up in Rhonda, and much of the
audience had peeled off to engage in some final exercises of free speech and
their right to peacefully assemble with a sexual partner of their choice. To my
utter amazement a line of males had formed to take a last crack at impregnating
little Connie. The sweet young thing was on one of the benches with her knees
resting beside her ears, and she was being hammered like no body's business by
this rather large gentleman with a penis that was of truly impressive length and
girth. It took me some time to identify Chief Vlad, who was without his hat,
holster and the 357 Magnum it contained. I suddenly realized that my little get
together had been infiltrated by the forces of law and order. It then became
apparent to me that they too were interested in exercising their right to
freedom of speech and expression.

	Just before I claimed the worn out body of my dear wife from the master
of the hounds, a number of the kitchen ladies who had taken off with Marty began
to drift back into the yard. It seems that his spirit had been very willing, but
his body could not measure up to the pressures that the gaggle of grannies
applied to his scrawny frame. He had been spanked until his poor ass was nearly
twice its original size and about fit to burst. These ladies had not gotten to
this stage in their lives by doing things that were less than intelligent. They
had liberated a variety of kitchen implements which they used in lieu of their
palms to make Marty understand how distressed they were about his deportment.

	In a kind of warped form of poetic justice they had dragged his sorry
shape into the sauna and began to abuse him sexually as his body gave up its
liquid contents to the hot, dry air and the demanding pussies that suctioned the
seed from him. Currently only the hard core ladies remained and they were doing
some terrible things to his needle dick which had long since given up its
rigidity. This was the kind of gossip that I did not need to hear at this point.
However I do promise a more definitive description of Marty's punishments in a
later segment of this lengthening tale.

	As luck would have it, one of the kitchen ladies spotted May and headed
in her direction. This woman had a most impressive chest and I also noticed that
she too had a shaved snatch. Just before she greeted my companion I realized I
was looking at May's momma in the flesh, and there was sure plenty of it. My
devious side immediately began working on a scheme that would result in May and
her momma doing yours truly in a variety of interesting and entertaining
configurations. May introduced me as a new friend she had made and from the look
I got from mom she was quickly sizing me up for future use. Being old and wily I
can figure these kinds of things out pretty fast. Her name was Mabel and she
mentioned she had been twice widowed, May being the last product of her second
marriage, a change of life baby who had turned out well. My charming companion
tittered, if I dare use that word, and remarked that, " Momma put both of them
under the ground by fucking them silly every chance she got. I intend to follow
in her foot steps if ever I find a man that can measure up to my standards." It
seems I had already been found wanting as a potential husband, which was fine
with me unless Rhonda had a seizure and keeled over dead.

	I made my excuses and detached myself from May and Mabel, heading for
what was left of Rhonda. By now the handler had retrieved the padding and mask
she wore, revealing a modicum of bruises and scratches that she had accumulated
during her time in the dog run. Rhonda's lips looked like they were on steroids
as a result of numerous collisions with the excited canines. She was unable to
speak, and could barely mumble, her only method of verbal communication for the
better part of a day.

	 As I half carried my thoroughly dog-fucked wife back to her room I was
intercepted by Mimi Marlowe, who, close-up, smelled like a whore house bathroom
as the result of her dalliance with those oversexed teens. It seems her sources
had informed her of the existence of a rather battered Marty and his lovely
wife, the fragile and currently unconscious, Marie. For reasons that she did not
wish to share with me, Ms. Marlowe wanted to take custody of the pair for an
indeterminate period of time. In exchange, she offered me the opportunity to
baby sit the Tolliver twins, Terri and Traci, for the next four weekends, no
questions asked, and no holes barred.

	You talk about an offer you couldn't resist, this in truth was it! These
14 year old blondes were well known to be Ms. Marlowe's private stock and had
been so for the last year. The girls were flat out beautiful and already sported
sets of 36C tits, tapering down to waists that were rumored to measure no more
than 21 inches around, then flared out to hips that had been actually measured
to be 34 inches in circumference. They had been gifted with heart shaped asses
that appeared to be mounted on ball bearings as they sidled by leaving a scent
of musky fragrance in their wake. These were two dick stiffening, heart
stopping, marriage ruining, wet dreams that were ripe and ready. Then to top it
off they went both ways, compliments of the advanced training given them by the
aforementioned Ms. Marlowe. Now these two paragons of youthful sexuality were
about to be dropped into my lap, so to speak. They would come equipped with a
one word vocabulary, "yes", and there would be no questions asked provided they
were returned in a condition that would allow their pristine perfection to be
restored in a reasonable amount of time. This was the proverbial "no brainer"
and I nearly dislocated my neck accepting the trade she offered.

	It appears that my printer is running out of ink and I don't presently
have the wherewithal to fork over in excess of 40 dollars, American, to replace
it. So until such time as the god of ink jets smiles down upon me, this will
have to suffice.         

					           Livin' In the Country



						      Chapter 9


	It took me a lot longer to hose down, and then tuck Rhonda in. The poor
thing had suffered some collateral damage that I had missed on my first pass
through. It seems that while May and I were mussing the sheets Rhonda had taken
not one, but two knots in her butthole. Contrary to what the smooth talking
handler had told me, this was not the kind of experience that one easily can
shrug off, especially when the damned dog is half out of its mind trying to
break free. As luck would have it, she took the two hits back to back, in a
matter of speaking, probably because she was gaping pretty good after the first
encounter. She was going to have to watch her diet for a few days in order for
her colon to get back into good working order.

	Returning to my guests, who were packing up and heading back to their
domiciles, I played the gracious host, accepting their thanks for our
hospitality and the various activities that were available. I made it a point to
assure everyone who inquired, that Rhonda was alive and well and would be
prancing around in a day or so. I noticed that Connie was not moving well at all
as she was assisted from the field of battle. She had grown up considerably in
the past two days and this would stand her in good stead in future times. It
would be another month before anyone would know if the child had gotten lucky or
what. The local potions lady had been notified in advance of the possibility
that her services might be needed and so I was confident that win or lose all
would be well for the little waif. I was very thankful that the chief himself
had validated her legality, since she does not look her age due to her lack of
pubic hair and breasts.

	May sidled up to me and we had a brief, but very interesting chat. As I
suspected, her mom was hot to trot any time I felt in the need of the services
of an experienced woman who knew a lot of tricks that they don't teach the
younger ones any more. What floored me was when she revealed the fact that she
and Rhonda had hit it off a whole lot better than I realized. It seems May goes
both ways, but leans some in the direction of the softer forms of humanity. This
did not completely surprise me when I considered the game those two were playing
last night.

 	Rhonda had encouraged her to check me out today and consider if I would
be worthy to join them in a fairly regular threesome get-together. In the event
it was not, Rhonda and she would make their own arrangements, and hopefully her
mom would be able to keep my mind and body gainfully occupied during these
little trysts. I was a bit confused, having now spent a number of hours
pleasuring this young lady and demonstrating my breadth of knowledge concerning
the care and feeding of the pussy. May was not convinced as yet and informed me
that one more meeting between us would be required before she could make up her
mind. This one would occur on her "home court" to use a basketball term. I
wondered if her momma was going to referee the contest.

	No sooner had May paid her respects and departed, then Mimi arrived to
close the deal. She had already collected the dehydrated remains of Marty and
had roused his sleeping wife and informed her of the new pecking order. Marie
had not responded well to this revelation and so Mimi had to restrain her with
the very handcuffs that she had worn while her private parts were penetrated and
pulped earlier in the day. She intended to have them transported to her place
immediately and did not see any need for them to bother with personal
possessions, especially clothing, since its lack was de rigueur (that's a French
word), at her place. She inquired as to when it would be convenient to drop off
the Tolliver twins next weekend. To my delight she had no problem with leaving
the darlings in my care on Friday evening and having them delivered to her place
after supper on Sunday.

	 Mimi gave me the fish eye stare, so favored by a certain portion of the
organized criminal element, and reiterated her expectation that the dear girls
would be returned in relatively the same physical condition as when they were
delivered. At that point I became somewhat distracted thinking about all the
ways I could do these sweet young things without causing major relocations in
various portions of their bodies. Mimi detected my loss of attention and brought
me back by observing that a rubber hose to their genitals or breasts usually
worked wonders if they were in need of physical disipline. I nodded wisely as
she gave me a look that said "poseur". Damn if I didn't do it again! Maybe I
ought to just finish this little story in French and be done with it.

	The last guests left about an hour before sunset. It seems that these
four kitchen ladies had rounded up a couple of the boys and taken them back to
the sauna and drained them dry for giggles, and to brag to their peers that they
still had what it took to put away any man. The boys had done their best but
with one lady constantly bouncing up and down on a stiff dick while a second
tried to smother the poor victim between her fleshy cheeks, these lads were soon
ground down and then some. Just to make sure that there were no embers left that
might burst forth later and embarrass their efforts, the ladies took turns
stroking their tired dicks until they could almost put a knot in them. This plus
that dry heat did the trick, a fitting punishment for what they had done to
Marie.

	It had been a long day and I was beat; not as beat as Rhonda who had
nodded off hours ago, but very tired. Then I made the mistake of thinking about
Terri and Traci Tolliver and yours truly. At first that was most enjoyable, but
for some reason that led to my recollections of these two demi-goddesses and
their early years livin' in the country.

	 They arrived, all legs and looks, about two years ago as part of a
family that contained three generations of Tollivers. The mother of the twins
had remarried when they were about ten. Her husband turned out to be a less than
perfect influence on the development of these young ladies. He ran a tight ship
and as part of his crew the twins were subject to captain's mast and all sorts
of other interesting activities. Mom took ill shortly after her marriage, a
long, drawn out ordeal that ended some year and a half later in her death,
leaving the twins orphaned. During that period she was unable to counter balance
her husband, who turned out to be the worst sort, and the twins suffered
greatly.

	The "commander" of the family, now unchecked, ran amok. He used his
influence to have the girls removed from school so they could be close to their
ailing mother while he took on the task of "educating" them at home. The things
the girls learned were quite different from those of their peers. He taught them
how to play the skin flute for example and had them practice by the hour. They
learned that clothing was not needed around the home because it confined their
bodies and minds. They were taught the rules and regulatiaons that now
determined almost everything that occurred on his "ship". They suffered through
the various giggings that he mandated when they broke the rules. These were
unlike the type of demerits one typically received at military school; these
hurt, they hurt really bad.

	It's a miracle that he didn't do more damage than he did; at least no
one can prove otherwise. Initially the girls were spanked over his knee so he
could fondle them as he turned their cute little butts crimson and beyond.Then
they graduated to getting the belt as they stood with their legs wide apart and
their hands clasped behind their necks. Any attempt to escape this type of
beating was cause for further punishment. This was done often with them  being
tied spread-eagle fashion to their beds, face up or down, depending on his whim
that particular day. On other occasions they would be hung by their wrists, legs
spread and ankles anchored to ring bolts in the cellar floor. For this type of
punishment they were always gagged, usually with a pair of his soiled underwear,
so as not to "disturb" the neighbors. After a number of trips to the cellar, it
looked as if the girls were wearing bright red two piece bathing suits.

	Things esculated as they grew older. They were beginning to show signs
of filling out, even at this relatively young age, and this was not lost on the
captain. Forced sex was now part and parcel of his discipline plan. Within a
month of instituting this new order of things, they were well broken in both
fore and aft. They remained tight as new brides despite the numerous times he
assaulted them with his larger than normal weapon. This merely challenged him to
bigger and better things. He crammed hard lengths of plastic and rubber into
their sweet young pussies and even tighter butt holes. He would spend hours
twisting and turning these tools inside the girls' orifices and watching the
tears roll down their cheeks as they suffered.

	They began to take enemas as part of their "education". At first there
was nothing fancy about them; it was either a bag of crushed ice in water, or
the hottest stuff that could be drawn from the tap. His gas bills went up
considerably now that he kept the hot water heater at its temperature limit
continuously. Once they could easily accommodate a quart for as long as he
wanted, he bought a bigger bag. Once they were taking two quarts without batting
an eyelash he began to improvise with what he used to fill the bag. Things got
very ugly for the girls once this started. The damage that some of these
fiendish concoctions did to their innards to this day still has not totally
disappeared.

	Under this regime the girls began to thin out considerably despite the
kick start that their hormones provided to their bodies. This too was used as a
means to torment them. Their little chest buds were bound flat with elastic
wraps which would be pounded regularly for hours each day. Their cute little
nipples were noosed with wire prior to the wrapping to add to their discomfort.

	The absolute worst thing that dirty bastard did to those little cherubs
involved sodomizing them while he held their heads under water. He would fill
the bath tub to its limit and tie the girl's hands behind her back. He would
bend her over the edge of the tub and work his cock into her tight ass. Once he
built up a head of steam he'd plunge her head into the water, hot or cold
depending on his mood, and hold her there as he sawed away inside her puckered
asshole. Naturally more times than not the poor darling would wind up ingesting
large quantities of water before he had the good sense to let her up so she
could catch a breath before her next dunking. Toward the end, the girls say he
was doing them once or twice a day and neither of them ever stayed conscious
through it all. You can imagine what long periods of time without oxygen can do
to brain cells. The Tollivers swear that it was this horrible treatment that
resulted in the less than average intelligence that the twins currently display.


	Two weeks after their mother died the twins were deserted. Their
tormentor disappeared into the sewer from which he originally came leaving them
orphaned. Fortunately for the girls, one of their aunts decided to take them
into her family. The family very shortly moved to the country where the air is
clearer, the people straighter and privacy is valued. It was at this time that
the legend of the Tolliver twins began. Now don't get me wrong, their aunt had
her own reasons for taking the girls into her family. She and her two daughters
were trying to handle the sexual needs of three generations of men, amounting to
ten dicks. That is a lot of meat for a trio of pussies to deal with. Now the
odds were a little better with the addition of two more young tight twats.

 	Once the twins arrived at school it didn't take long before Ms. Marlowe
became very aware of their existence. The first time she saw them she almost
drooled as she imagined what she could do for and to these budding beauties. It
was no secret that the domineering teacher was definitely bisexual and would
swing with members of either sex at the drop of a pair of pants or panties.
There was something about her that attracted and at the same time frightened the
average teenager, be they girl or boy. Her after-school detentions were the
stuff of legend with wild tales told of orgies involving her and groups of boys,
girls, or both sexes simultaneously. Most were fabricated from thin air, the
stuff of boredom as they whiled away the hours dreaming of doing nice or nasty
things to their stern faced teacher. Those lucky few who actually fell under her
spell kept their mouths shut, but their body language, especially when Ms.
Marlowe was present, told volumes.

	It did not take Ms. Marlowe very long to reach out to the twins, even
though she would not have them in her classes for another year or two. She bided
her time and played out the line as she investigated the type of home life these
gorgeous creatures enjoyed. She quickly learned that Teri and Traci were
effectively part-time family prostitutes without the protection of a pimp or the
payments that usually accrued to ladies involved in this oldest of professions.
The source for much of her information came from one of the Tolliver boys who
was enrolled in her class. To say she cultivated him would be inaccurate. She
consumed the young stud, balls and all. It was a classic mismatch, and it paid
very large dividends.

	She learned that at home, these two lucious ladies-to-be were breached
and battered, penetrated, plundered and pummeled, skewered, stretched and split,
not to mention being filled and drilled, reamed raw and sore, slammed, jammed
and rammed by their male relatives who never tired of injecting their bodily
fluids into these two receptacles or cock sockets, as one of the more
sophisticated members of the clan described them. They sucked and swallowed,
smooched and slobbered, slathered and slithered and did whatever movements were
required to harden, soften and cleanse the members of the family members. They
were taking a crash course in learning to be country girls.

	 This is not to say that the ladies ignored their obligations to their
young kin. The girls were trained in the ways a woman pleasured a woman when
there was no man around to provide suitable stimulation of their private parts.
They happily applied these lessons to each other and became most adept at
creating and removing the excess bodily fluids that were generated in this
delightful and delicious process. It's fair to say that by the time Mimi Marlowe
took these two budding beauties under her wing, so to speak, they were well up
the learning curve. To hear her describe it, she merely refined and enhanced
their native abilities in the field of providing pleasure to any and all comers,
or is that "cummers", I can never get that straight.

	Armed with this knowledge Ms. Marlowe began to apply it to gain control
of these visions of loveliness. A meeting with Chief Vlad which involved more
than conversation, Ms. Marlowe always had a weakness for big dicks, yielded an
ally who would back her when she made her play for the girls. A few members of
the school board who owed her favors for past services rendered quickly joined
her team as well. When she brought the employer of two of the Tolliver family
into her camp the trap was set. That had required bartering a couple of the
prettier members of her harem to assure that he would apply the hammer at her
bidding.

	All in all things worked out well for all concerned. At the bequest of
the school board the girls were examined by a professional counselor who just
happened to be an intimate acquaintance of Mimi Marlowe. It was her considered
opinion that the twins required a more proactive environment in order for them
to develop their social skills to their fullest extent. I have fallen in love
with the word "proactive", and can sometimes develop an impressive erection
letting it roll off my tongue. While the family was mulling over this rather
strange recommendation, they were paid a visit by the chief of police who told
them he was investigating some rather serious accusations that had been brought
against the family by a number of townsfolk. Said accusations involved sex
between adults and minors, who are described to be under the age of 13 in this
neck of the woods. When the owner of the local lumber yard which employed two
members of the Tolliver family declared that there might be major dislocations
in his work force based on some private assessments he had received, it all hit
the fan. That my friends was the frosting on the cake.

	Ms. Marlowe rode to the rescue, offering to take the twins off the
family's hands and assuring them they would still have a certain amount of
social interaction with the children, read that as a promise to provide a
certain amount of sexual relief to the male members of the family. Following
this development Chief Vlad dropped by to inform the family that he had found
the accusations against them to be groundless and the investigation had been
terminated. The family's good luck streak was further extended when the owner of
the lumber yard announced that the original somber forecast for the future had
been flawed and there would be no forced outsourcing required. You talk about
your win-win situations, this was a classic case.

	The transition from the Tolliver home to Ms. Marlowe's was seamless. The
young ladies minded their Ps and Qs and life went on in the country. Ms. Marlowe
seemed to be a tad more understanding with her students, but that was the only
sign that anything might be happening on that front. Life went on in the
country. Every couple of weeks the girls had a kind of reunion with their
clanfolk, with the accent on the "union" part. No one seemed to pay that any
mind either. Livin'in the country was a good thing and everyone who lived there
knew it.

	When next I return, perhaps sooner than later, I will pay a little more
attention to the relationship between my dear wife and myself, set the stage for
the battle of the titans, matching yours truly against the tag team of May and
Mabel, and perhaps touch on the arrival of the Tolliver twins.   

Livin' In the Country


						  Chapter 10


	Considering my state of exhaustion and all the goings-on that had
happened during the day, it was a surprise to discover on more than one occasion
during the night and perhaps the early hours of the morning, that I had been
dreaming. They were some kind of doozies; they were indeed. The cast of
characters changed somewhat from dream to dream, and the scenes were
sufficiently different that the script writer in my subconscious has no fear of
being accused of plagiarism or repeating himself, which seems to be a common
practice in most, if not all the media these days. Led by my dear wife, who wore
a dog mask and was clad in a flowing white gown with a pair of cut-outs that
exposed her breasts, all manner of folks pranced, stumbled, raced, hopped,
skipped, (none of them jumped however) and wandered across my eyeballs which
must have been trying to jump right out of their sockets. This had to have been
the rapid eye movement equivalent of the Olympic finals.

	I hate to have dreams that require some thought to figure out.
Fortunately most of these did not fall into that category. However one or two
were rather troubling as they involved myself intimately involved with
youngsters that were definitely not legal in this county, let alone this country
of ours. On the good side all of them were of the female persuasion, and for
some inexplicable reason possessed gigantic breasts, which was also good, and
pussies that had teeth surrounding their entrances, which was not good at all.
The one that did me in, in a manner of speaking, involved Ms. Marlowe and my 12
year old budding lesbian daughter, Glenda. Rhonda did the naming, and I was well
aware that during the time she got knocked up she was fooling around with some
guy named Glen who was just passing through. Livin' in the country has its bumps
in the road,if you know what I mean.

	In my dream Ms. Marlowe was sporting a pair of headlights that were most
impressive and had an ass to die for, contrary to reality. Glenda was strung up
by her thumbs in what looked like a prison cell because of the bars. She was
stark naked and soaked to the skin. Ms.Marlowe dressed in a police uniform was
rolling up this huge fire hose that I guess she'd just got through using on my
daughter. She walked over to where Glenda was hanging and began sticking her
fingers up the girl's cunt. For some crazy reason I was in the room just
watching. Ms. Marlowe acted like I wasn't even there. Then she pulled out her
baton, a wooden stick about two feet long and started fucking it in and out of
Glenda's pussy. I started jacking off, matching my strokes to what Ms. Marlowe
was giving poor Glenda.

	At that point I awoke to discover myself in the process of coating my
belly with an impressive load of semen, something alien to my being ever since I
was an acne-afflicted teenager unable to get any pussy no matter what. I was
breathing hard and my heart was pounding like a trip hammer. It took a few
moments for everything to calm down. There I lay in the darkness, befuddled and
a bit upset over the nasty scene I had just participated in. "What the hell was
that all about?" I said to no one in particular. Frankly speaking, the only
thing worse than having a wet dream is to wake up after you peed in your bed. I
thanked whatever deity controlled such things, that my aberrant behavior had not
involved urine. I quickly leaped from bed and padded down the hall in the
direction of the bathroom.

	When I got to Jack's room I heard the unmistakeable sound of flesh
meeting flesh at a rapid rate. Acting as a kind of counterpoint to it was the
rhythmic squeak of the bedsprings, punctuated by an occasional gasp and groan
from the warring parties. "Now you're hitting it! Oh yes, pound me, pound me!"
This encouragement was coming from a familiar voice, namely my daughter, Tammi.
I sighed to myself, more in sadness for my lost youth than any annoyance over
what they were doing. This was what life in the country was all about, fucking
the brains out of your sibling because that was what she wanted you to do. I
wondered how long they had been at war, and hoped that the sounds of battle had
not disturbed Rhonda's sleep. A high pitched wail issued from the room as Jack
redoubled his efforts; the battle was coming to a climax. One last command to "
Pour it on, I'm almost there!" announced the impending rout of the enemy. I
continued my trip toward the bathroom wondering if I might have some company
shortly. Upon sober reflection the idea that those two rabbits would slack off
for more time than it took to change positions was rather laughable.

	While I got rid of the evidence associated with my little accidental
discharge, my mind began to wander, considering such matters as DNA and the
relationship of the various members of my family to each other. The only thing I
was really sure of was that Rhonda and I were related to each other through
marriage. Since I'd never been to the delivery room when Rhonda gave birth, in
fact except for once I was never even in the hospital during the blessed events,
I could not even be sure that those six babies she brought home were all hers.
Now that might be a bit far fetched but there have been mix ups at the hospital
before.

	I began to have a vision that Jack was not my son, but was Rhonda's.
This expanded to now include the fact that Tammi was accidently handed to Rhonda
by an overworked nurse who had bad eyesight. This in turn would make the
establishment rest a lot easier, since now these two were not committing incest.
In fact that would mean that the two rabbits could legally be united in holy
wedlock. Now there's an interesting word, "wedlock". It has the trappings of
imprisonment or confinement, neither state very appealing to most men. I began
to wonder if the threat of that kind of a legal union might take all the fun out
of what they were doing. I would have to pose this question to my two
demi-children one of these days when they weren't in heat.

	 As previously mentioned, I was not at all sure that I had anything to
do with Glenda. That led to another very interesting vision. If Glenda wasn't
mine then I could nail her with a clear conscience soon as she turned legal next
year. Wouldn't that beat all hell. I could be doing her mom at night and her
during the day and it would all be on the up and up. The prospect of doing a
mother-daughter combination reminded me of my meeting with May and Mabel, the
time and place to be announced. There was sure a lot of irons heating up around
here.

	Before I went back to my bed I decided that sooner rather than later I'd
find out from the local medical folks what kind of money would it take to check
out the DNA of my three oldest and myself. If it was feasible I would have
something to look forward to that might change the direction of my life. The
rabbits had started up again by the time I passed their room.

	The next day, after work, I broke the news to Rhonda that we were going
to have a visit from the Tolliver twins. Her reaction was less than
enthusiastic.
	
	"Just what I need when I'm feeling so poorly, two more mouths to feed.
That damned son of ours will be walking on three legs the entire time and I know
that Tammi and Glenda are going to be feeling out of sorts from having those two
cock teasers around getting all the attention from every man within two miles of
here, and that includes the sneaky son of a bitch I'm married to."

	My explanation that this was a trade with Ms. Marlowe for allowing her
to have Marty and Marie did not wash well with her.

	"If I ever see either one of those wimpy excuses for a functioning human
being, it will be too soon. Those two are mainly responsible for the troubles I
encountered. I hear tell that Marie never made the clambake and that Marty got
himself half-ruined by the kitchen ladies for misbehaving with that little tramp
he claims is his wife. The damned phone started ringing just about the time you
left for work, and I had to answer it in self defense because a certain husband
of mine was too dumb to take the thing off the hook before he left for work."

	Despite her diatribe I was "honor bound" to go through with the
arrangement Ms. Marlowe and I had made. There was nothing that my out-of-sorts
wife could do to get in the way of progress. Those two beings from another world
were going to get to know me, in the biblical sense, close up and very, very
personal starting next Friday night. Having made that decision before hand there
was no room for compromise. To her credit Rhonda quickly realized that my feet
were embedded in concrete on this one, and set about turning this situation to
her favor.

	Normally before the day is done I always reserve some quality time for
my dear wife; it improves her outlook considerably and does quite a bit for me
as well. Today at work a recently hired young thing with a very healthy set of
lungs and a gung ho attitude had enticed me into an orientation session that had
been mightily productive for both of us. It had served to take the edge off
things, so to speak, but that was many hours ago. The prospect of encountering
the Tolliver twins had once more put me into an amorous mood, and I went about
investigating the possibility that Rhonda might be willing to allow me to
exercise my conjugal rights. To my surprise and delight she was most receptive
to this modest proposal and promised to rendezvous with me shortly. Now there's
one fine French word for you to remember.

	When Rhonda and I interact in the bedroom, it is usually a no frills
affair, sort of like flying on one of those low cost airlines that thinks giving
you peanuts is haute cuisine, that's French for good eating. Tonight was
somewhat different, since I sincerely believe that both of us had taken stock
and realized we had a very good thing going despite those occasional missteps
that all couples take now and then. I was planning a few surprises for my bed
partner that involved exploring some relatively underdeveloped areas of my
domain, actually they were in her domain, but I like to think globally at times.

	The door to the bedroom opened and in pranced Rhonda wearing a flimsy
see-through white teddy. She had gained some weight since she bought this one,
so she had pulled it up to just below her sagging tits and let it be. Instantly
I was transported back to last night and my dream of her; this was very spooky.
Then my eyes moved down to just below the hem of the garment and I got another
surprise, this one much more pleasant. Rhonda had taken a razor to her muff; for
the first time in many years she was shaven. It looked good enough to eat and
without getting too far ahead of myself I must admit to the fact that I
overindulged and was a better man for it.

	My dear wife took advantage of my momentary paralysis and immediately
was upon me, her weight sinking me into the mattress. Let me tell you, there is
nothing to match the sensation of literally drowning in pussy. Her aroma was
overwhelming and after one breath I had exhausted the available air supply. My
nose was neatly buried in her coin slot of a pussy, whether by design or luck I
will never know. I commenced to thrashing around, attempting to free myself from
the  glorious death grip she had me in. I could hear her giggling like a school
girl as she rode me as if I were a bucking bronc. This old mustang nearly ran
out of tricks until I realized just how vulnerable she was. Once again guile and
wile triumphed when brute strength failed, an observation that has stood me in
good stead for many years. I used my last bit of energy to fasten my teeth into
her rubbery pubic mound, causing her to let out a whoop of surprise and bounce
herself free of this painful sensation, allowing me to regain my breath.I then
proceeded to subdue this large woman and bend her to my will.

	One great advantage of doing the same woman over a long period of time
is the fact that you develop optimized positions for most of your intimate
activities. It can also be argued that familiarity creates boredom, which is the
bane of most marriages. This is why the open version of marriage provides the
best of all possible worlds, provided of course that both partners are
completely serious about this style of living. Rhonda and I settled quickly into
the sixty-nine configuration with yours truly in the inferior position as
befitted his ranking in the sexual hierarchy. It also made a lot of logistical
sense due to Rhonda's propensity to significantly increase her girth during her
many and sundry pregnancies. I began to probe her well manicured pubic region
and detected a trace of lemon, a sign that this was to be a very serious and
most meaningful coupling. This was a very private thing between us and had its
antecedent back to the days we were first courting. About this time I felt my
dick being engulfed by a warm, wet force that soon drew immense quantities of
blood into my member.

	I will avoid boring people with all the gory details involving the many
friendly scrimmages, that's a football term, which occurred during that magical
mystery tour that took place during the evening. Suffice to say that there were
frequent exchanges of bodily fluids and the like. With Rhonda's permission I
introduced my tongue into places that it normally did not go, and discovered
that she was favorably impressed by my efforts to provide a little more spice in
our life. In fact her armpits and puckered butt hole are now regular stops when
we have the time to take the scenic route.

	 It turns out that the state of her underarms usually reflects her
overall mood for a time period that may go for months, and on one occasion
stretched into two complete calendar changes. When she's feeling free and fiesty
and is receiving swains who are of high quality with good substance, this
translates to men who are well hung and know what to do with their equipment,
she lets her armpits become lush forests of fragrant fir trees. At times when
she is a tad insecure about the future she will prune this growth as a symbol of
her potential for renewal and change. I presume I do not have to tell you what
my tongue encountered during this particular get-together.

	All good things must come to an end, but Rhonda took advantage of my
weakness for her butt hole. Once I finished slobbering and slithering my tongue
over and into that tough muscle, she offered it up as a special treat for the
evening. I was much taken aback and quite touched by her generosity considering
what that passageway had recently endured from those two dog knots. I attempted
to decline but she was adamant that I accept this token of her love and
affection for me. I did what any other gentleman would have done in this
position, I reamed her raw, my belly slapping her big round cheeks while she
buried her face into a pillow and pounded her fists into the bedding as I tried
to match those furry fuckers in the speed department. What I lacked in speed, I
was able to make up in endurance, this being the last coupling of a very long
evening of swapping sweat, pussy juice, semen and saliva. Rhonda claimed that it
was the worst spanking she's had in years, which I took to be a great
compliment.

	 Then she sprang the trap, reminding me of a time many years ago when in
the throes of passion I had begun to provide her with a tongue bath, promising
not to miss a spot even if it took me a day or more. Once the liquor that fueled
that nonsensical boast took full effect, I fell into a deep sleep, thus ending
our little activity for the evening. Now as I was coming down from a delightful
romp between her awesome butt cheeks, she dragged that old cat out of its grave
and set it on my plate. This was not my idea of good pussy; not by a long shot.

	The negotiations that followed were kind of one-sided. Her attorney
appeared to be Johnnie Cochran while I was represented by Marcia Clark. The jury
brought in a verdict favoring Rhonda's claim faster than the group of friendly
folks that got OJ free and out on the golf course again. I was sentenced to
perform community service on the plaintiff's unwashed body beginning on the
following evening and continuing until every spot available, excluding the
region on her head covered by her hair, had been well and truly coated with a
uniform covering of saliva. There was to be no appeal allowed in this matter.

	While my dear wife slept the sleep of the victorious, I fretted and
stewed over this obstacle that had been placed in my path to the pussies of the
aforementioned Tolliver twins. I had exactly three evenings to cover a vast
amount of territory that might not even be friendly to my cause. I made some
rough calculations concerning the number of square inches I might be covering,
and concluded it might make me feel better if I converted that rather large
number to square feet. It was still a bunch. I made some additional assumptions
as to the amount of territory I could cover with each pass of my tongue, the
number of passes I could reasonably expect to make in an hour, and concluded
that it was feasible if she provided a modicum of cooperation. This was perhaps
my shakiest assumption. Realizing I had a long day ahead of me at the feed
store, having scheduled another orientation session with my new found fellow
employee, I decided to turn off my brain and sleep the sleep of those boasters
recently bitten in the ass by their betters.

	I would like to have said that my week went down hill from there, but
that would be a gross understatement of my situation. It was more like that
Wilie Coyote cartoon character for me. When the bottom of down hill was reached,
the road abruptly turned into the edge of a sheer cliff; you know the rest. My
descent was such that I developed an enormous velocity which made my landing
something that only an Evel Keinevel fan would have appreciated. The first thing
to go wrong was the little tryst with my new friend at the feed store. She
proved to be a most demanding creature and I expended considerably more energy
than I had budgeted for this item on my list of things to do. Upon returning to
the bosom of my family, I faced a meal that appeared to be deliberately designed
to cause me to fall fast asleep immediately after consuming it. This in turn was
followed by the observation on the part of my understanding wife that she was
developing a terrible headache. When I inquired if there was something I could
do to alleviate this malady she gave me one of those smiles that told me I was
about to get run over by that damned road runner.

	I found myself sharing the marital bed with my rather demanding wife who
insisted on a lengthy back rub to reduce her tension. When this did not
completely satisfy her wants, she suggested that a vigorous prodding of her
private parts by yours truly might be just what the doctor ordered to restore
her to her natural state. She cautioned me that vigorous did not mean quick as
she settled back and parted her thighs, her shaved pussy appearing to be ready
to swallow me whole. I did what had to be done, feeling the effects of that
heavy meal and my unexpected expenditure of energy while at work. For some
reason she took pity on me after a time and allowed me to begin my community
service, or was it servicing?

	For a time I thought I was making good progress. I licked and licked and
licked some more, moving from the soles of her feet, over her toes, past her
ankles and began making the slow climb toward her knees, one limb at a time. It
was at this point that she observed that I had missed that area between those
unwashed digits.

	In case any of the readers don't know what the words "toe jam" mean, let
me explain. This is much akin to belly button "lint". It's a collection of
miscellaneous and unknown material that lodges in the various nooks and crannies
of the human body. Toe jam is sort of like mystery meat, only it doesn't taste
as good, and of course it lodges between the toes, hence the name. It is my
understanding that there are members of my tribe who achieve sexual stimulation
from feeding on the toes of ladies; I do not share their enthusiasm for this
activity.

	After making a detour to take care of unfinished business, I resumed my
efforts to reach her knees. Rhonda offered no resistance and I was encouraged to
the point of considering perhaps a move to that smooth shaved pussy before I
called it a night. Unfortunately my dear wife had other ideas. Upon reaching the
backs of her knees, one of those erogenous zones the experts talk about, I was
urged to pay a little lip service to that region. I knew better than to argue,
realizing that she held all the cards at this moment. Rather than risk  having
the lights go out for the evening, I devoted a considerable amount of time and
energy to pleasuring that area of her body.

	I evidently overdid things because Rhonda suddenly gave a shudder that
signaled something of significance was occurring within her body. The next thing
I knew she was ordering, not suggesting, not asking,....ordering me to mount up
and do her like I meant it. If there is anything that will get my blood to
boiling it's the implication that I would do less than my all when it came to
matters involving the exchange of bodily fluids. As the old saying goes, the
rest was history. The mountain climbing was over for the evening. I now was down
to just two more attempts to reach the top.

	The next morning before the alarm clock went off, my horny partner in
life awoke me with a killer blowjob that turned into a rather energetic
encounter of the closest kind. I made a healthy donation of sperm that was
cheerfully accepted by my darling wife. It did not sink in until later in the
day that this burst of affection for me was part of a plot to somehow or other
make my rendezvous with the Tolliver twins a less than perfect union. It was
while I was engaged in fending off my new protogee (more French), who insisted
we had time for another quick lesson in employee relationships, that I realized
there were forces at work dedicated to frustrating my long awaited tete-a-tete
(even more French) with the twin paragons of youthful sexuality.

	Dinner was a tad late because Rhonda had decided to cook one of my
favorite meals, hog jowls and greens. So by the time we adjorned to the marital
bed for a continuation of our fun and games, I was already an hour behind
schedule, an hour I did not have. Rather than waste time arguing where I had
left off last evening, I began lapping away at her pebbled skin, determined to
reach just below her hanging nipples and establish a base camp from which I
would push off tomorrow evening. That was not to be for a variety of reasons.

	I was making good progress up her right thigh when she claimed I had
missed a spot and demanded I take care of the oversight. This threw me off my
game a bit and made it even easier for her next move, which was to roll over
onto her belly and insist that I cover her broad bottom before approaching her
hole of holies, which on occasion is my pet name for her pussy. To make matters
even worse she kept complaining that I was doing a less than adequate job on her
aft hole of holies, which was a way of using her smart mouth to be hurtful to
her loyal, loving husband.

	I knew in my heart of hearts that there was no way I would be able to
accomplish tonight's objective unless she developed a severe case of horniness
coupled with an attack of insomnia. At this stage things were beginning to look
hopeless, but I decided to make the most of it. I could think of lots worse
things than to be licking Rhonda's ass and making her squirm as my tongue began
to get to her. When I pried her cheeks apart and started in on that chocolate
starfish she let out a yelp so loud that I'm sure all the kids heard it. I
wondered if Jack and Tammi even stopped for a second from what I knew they were
doing, then laughed to myself because they were young and in lust, just like
Rhonda and I were about 15 years ago.

	My tongue began to breach her defenses and she ran up the white flag by
holding those saliva coated mounds apart and pushing that puckered butthole back
against my tongue. Moments later I was offered a chance to put something more
substantial in that winking brown eye. Now that was an offer I  certainly was
not going to refuse. She arched her back and let out a howl when I sank my dick
down into her bowels and started drilling for oil. As I wormed deeper and deeper
inside her, I wondered if I could call in sick tomorrow. I knew that if I had
all day, my troubles would be over for sure and those twins would be mine for an
entire weekend. Rhonda was way ahead of me despite being in the throes of
passion.

	"Forget about staying home you miserable loafer. I want you out of the
house and earning a living so we can have food on the table and a roof over our
heads. Just you remember you have six kids and a wife to take care of." Her
words signaled the end of my dream for a time. I began to accept my fate and
consoled myself with the fact that I'd still have part of the weekend to get to
enjoy the company of my charges. The next day even that was taken away.

	Having resigned myself to the fact that my baby sitting of the twins
would be somewhat truncated this weekend, I decided to accept that and go about
enjoying life in the country. I had an extra long orientation session with this
sweet young thing at work who was improving by leaps and bounds thanks to my
dedication and mentoring skills. This young lady showed real potential and I was
thinking about making her my personal assistant in charge of employee morale,
namely mine. More about her at a later time.

	That evening I left the dish washing to the kids and escorted my soul
mate to the bedroom for a lengthy romp, determined to not only make sure that
her pussy received the attention and devotion it deserved, but to cover other
less settled areas that had been overlooked more or less. My meaty wife happily
responded to my overtures and soon she was pressing her pussy to my face as my
tongue lapped away at those fleshy flaps guarding the entrance. I did a few of
my special tricks like the reverse corkscrew move that I had originally learned
from my sister and the always popular triple tongue treat that never failed to
tickle Rhonda's fancy. We were having a high old time and she insisted on a
meeting of the loins to express her appreciation for my ardor.

	While we were cuddling and resting up from a brisk turn or two around
her spectacular insides she broke the bad news to me. Speaking dispassionately I
had to give her credit for keeping a straight face as she stuck a fork into my
well done carcass. It seems that May had called her earlier in the day and asked
Rhonda to inform me that she and her momma had scheduled this coming weekend for
my final examinations. They were expecting me around dinner time tomorrow night,
and promised a very interesting and enlightening time of it. My alternate Plan B
for the weekend entertaining the Tolliver twins had just been flushed down the
toilet. I was so mad I didn't know whether to shit or go blind. Rhonda started
giggling at about that point and so I closed my eyes and farted.

	I cannot go any further at this time for a variety of reasons including
the fact that my tears are making it hard to see what I am writing. In addition
what did occur during my weekend with the ladies was so humiliating that I must
fully prepare myself for the task of being truthful about a set of experiences
that surely would have traumatized your average city dweller. You may be
familiar with the expression that goes something like, " That which doesn't kill
you, only makes you stronger ". Well in this case I am not at all sure that it
worked that way.   

						Livin' In the Country


						    Chapter 11


	I do believe that chapter 11 is a kind of way out of some serious
financial misfortunes associated with spending more than one makes and doing it
for a rather long time. I would like to announce here and now that this chapter
11 has no connection whatsoever with the goings on that will be covered by my
version of chapter 11; although both do involve considerable pain and
humiliation on the part of those involved in either process.


	It was with some degree of fear and trepidation that I presented myself
at the appointed time so that I could be examined and judged as to my ability to
provide the type of pleasuring that May and Mabel were accustomed to receiving.
I could still not get it from my mind that my dear wife and the mother of my new
playmate had somehow been in communication, and my fate, such as it was to be,
had already been determined.

	The house they occupied was somewhat smaller and somewhat older than the
domicile that housed my happy family. I was assured tha none of the neighbors
would be dropping in unexpectedly while we were busy becoming better acquainted.
That statement turned out to be true, but what they did not choose to tell me
did present a formidable problem as the weekend took it's course.

	The weather had turned rather hot and the ladies were dressed
accordingly. May was bare to the waist, giving me a great view of her heavy
melon shaped tits. She had some kind of a sarong type wrap covering her from the
waist down. Her mother was wearing a big smile and a pair of sheer bikini
panties that were fighting a losing battle with her impressive gut. This was
another mark of country women, their guts. These bellies began once the dear
things began to swell up from encountering the offerings of the male members of
the species. With each impregnation at least an inch or two was permanently
added to their girth.

	However there were other means to achieve the same configuration, and
those usually involved consuming copious amounts of rich country food and plenty
of our famous alcoholic concoctions that were in abundance. In the case of
Mabel, it was a combination of these two factors that resulted in her overhang
that quite clearly called attention to the wrinkled entry to her fun zone.

	I took my time looking over Mabel, as this was beginning to be serious
time. Her face was round and a tad on the red side; whether from too much sun or
more than average imbibing was yet to be determined. She was beefy, but May
probably outweighed her by thirty pounds and was still growing. Her tits were
impressive as far as size was concerned, perhaps a bit bigger than May's but
with plenty of extra sag from years and years of fighting and losing to gravity.
Country women with real tits never wore bras, considering these contraptions as
some kind of city affectation, not worthy of being on women with real tits. Her
nipples were at least an inch long and to my way of thinking she wasn't even
slightly excited yet. The region around those teats was dark, almost black, and
the size of a silver dollar.

	I could imagine that those elongated melons had taken plenty of serious
handling in her younger days and probably thousands of hours of serious sucking
from both sexes, ranging in age from newborns to middle-aged folk like myself. I
had no difficulty imagining my mouth chock full of those melons, sucking away on
them while hopefully she was manipulating my sex organ so that I could dump
still another load of wigglers into that hungry hole she called her "little
puss". That last fact I got compliments of her daughter who liked to chat about
almost anything while she was resting up between those close encounters of the
personal kind that we call "country fucking."

	My musings were rudely interrupted by Mabel's voice announcing that they
hadn't invited me over to their place just to have me gawk at what they were
about to offer me. "Come on daughter, let's get this piece of meat into the
bedroom so we can get a better look at what he has to offer us ladies." I was
escorted into the back bedroom, which May referred to as the examination and
testing area. Their bedrooms were considered to be off-limits to candidates such
as myself unless I measured up to their exacting standards.

	Mabel, who was obviously in charge of this little party, ordered me to
strip and show them the merchandise. For the next ten minutes my private parts
were hefted, squeezed, stroked, patted, petted, yanked, measured and discussed
as if I wasn't present. Mabel announced that as far as length was concerned, I'd
probably measure up based of the semi-erection she had produced by rubbing the
head of my dick against the crotch of her bikini panties and crooning that her
fun zone was just a few minutes away from taking on its first passenger for a
nice long ride in the tunnel of love. May just giggled and told her mom that my
organ was only average in length based on the number of partners she had taken
on over the last six months or so. She did however acknowledge that I had
reasonable staying power, knew where her cunt was located and seemed to enjoy
its taste, texture and general good health, the mark of one not inexperienced in
the fine art of country fucking.

	Her mom was happy to hear these things about me, but reserved her
whole-hearted approval until she was properly introduced to my equipment in the
testing bed. She also made reference to the fact that I seemed to possess girth
that did not seem sufficient to fill up her little puss. That cutting
observation caused my little man to retreat in embarassment, an action noted by
both my examiners. It looked like it was going to be a long and very
"challenging" weekend. That's a city word meaning mission impossible or
something like it.

	To make things more interesting Mabel produced a pair of handcuffs which
clicked shut keeping my hands secured behind my back. Then I received another
surprise, an unpleasant one. It seems that both May and Mabel had invited a few
of their close personal friends to drop in over the weekend in order to test me
and thus provide more input to them concerning my ability to properly satisfy
your typical country girl or woman. Finally May gave me a shit-eating grin and
announced that for the rest of the evening, and well into the morning, she would
assume the role of fluffer, making sure that I was given every chance to either
get it up or keep it up when it came to attending to her momma's needs.

	At that point Mabel piped up to complain that because that little weasel
Marty had wimped out on her last week at my place, she hadn't had a chance at
any cock for about six weeks. According to her that made her a bit feisty and
she intended to take out her nervous energy on my cock in order to calm down a
bit. When that occurred, then I'd get a surprise from May as well. I could
hardly contain myself when I heard the word "surprise" being bandied about once
more. To date all the "surprises" had been downers, and I was not ready to try
to handle any more like them.

	May patted the bed and told me to lie down on my back. Once I assumed
the position she started sucking my cock with a great deal of enthusiasm.
Meanwhile Mabel stripped off her bikinis and approached the bed with a big smile
on her face. "Want to have a little taste of what you'll be fucking for the rest
of the night?", she asked.

	Before I could answer, she got on the bed and positioned her smooth
shaven cunt over my face and then deposited her nearly two hundred pounds of sex
crazed flesh down onto my face. It got mighty dark and the aroma of stale piss
began to filter into my nostrils as she wiggled her big ass into a more
comfortable spot, jamming my nose between her wrinkled cunt lips. My tongue
slipped out and made a sweep of what lay within easy reach. I quickly realized
that there was no way to get my tongue up and into her plump cunt from this
position.

	I wiggled and licked at whatever I could reach, hoping that she would
get the picture and readjust her body to give me a better chance of getting to
her goodies. I finally had to push up with my head to get Mabel's attention. I
heard her and May giggling, then her hams moved down to my chest, allowing my
tongue to begin getting her all hot and bothered. I had spent so much time
concentrating on getting into a more comfortable position, that my cock was
still at half mast, which did not make May a very happy camper. I received a nip
on the tip of my semi-hard cock and did that hurt!

	"Concentrate on getting that limp pecker of yours nice and hard or I'll
leave a  set of teeth marks on that little sucker." May said menacingly. The
threat was sufficient to get my mind focused on getting hard so I could begin
fucking Mabel's juicing cunt. The way she was beginning to drip indicated a
woman wth a need, a big need.

	I'd like to say that upon entering Mabel's well worn tunnel of love, I
found my destiny, but such was not the case. Mabel was nothing special when it
came to tightness of pussy and the kind of tricks she had learned over the
years. The fact that I was handcuffed also put me at a big disadvantage when it
came to demonstrating my skills. At best she was a comfortable fuck, nothing
more. I could imagine her spreading every other night for a guy who was grateful
for some place to park his hard dick once she got him hard enough to enter her
well used cunt. That however was not the way she envisioned herself, and so I
was encouraged to rise to the occasion under penalty of being cited for lack of
manliness, a capital offense in these parts.

	May sucked and I fucked. Then May sucked some more and I fucked some
more. Mabel took it in many positions, but being handcuffed did sort of cramp my
style, but that was her doing. Sometime well into the morning Mabel declared
that she was too tired to take any more dick. At the time I was beneath her,
fucking like a maniac and praying to the gods of sex for a miracle, namely the
ability to deposit one more load of depleted baby-making juice into her loose
cunt. Mabel had had enough for the evening, but that still left her hot-holed
daughter and all their friends who would be arriving shortly. I was allowed a
few hours to recover as I slept the sleep of the exhausted, burdened by dreams
that reflected what I had been experiencing.

	The next thing I knew someone was sucking my cock, and it was definitely
not May. I opened my eyes and there was her momma happily trying to swallow my
stiff dick. I noticed something else; Mabel had dentures, and currently they
were sitting in a glass by the bed. I have had a few gum jobs in my life, but
Mabel would prove to be the absolute best at this esoteric activity. At about
the same time I also realized my bladder was on the verge of bursting.  Mabel
thought that was pretty funny until I started hollering. All the noise I was
making woke up May. A few minutes later I was standing over the toilet pissing
up a storm as Mabel held my cock in her hand, aiming the stream dead center into
the bowl while May waited her turn. When I finished, Mabel led me back to the
testing bed for a good morning fuck while May took care of business in the
bathroom.

	The old woman was kind of frisky; I guess having her ashes hauled for
half the night had put her in a better mood. To my amazement and delight she
offered up her asshole, if I was interested. Let's face it, cornholing is one
thing that we country folk dote on. You show me a woman who doesn't like taking
it up the ass and I'll show you a spinster. Usually a country girl is taking
dick in the ass by the time she's 14 or 15, some much earlier, especially those
that come from "loving" families, if you get my drift.

	By the time May joined us, I was buried to the hilt in her momma's
asshole. She was still wearing that funny wraparound skirt which started me to
wondering what that outfit was all about. I would find out shortly. The girl
settled down beside us and watched my dick go in and out of her momma's shitter
as I did her doggy style. I had to admit that Mabel's asshole was pretty tight.
I just wish my hands were free so I could milk those big tits while I banged
away on her. It took some time to work up a good head of steam and shortly
thereafter I made a major deposit into Mabel's bowels. Then May got into the
act, gluing her mouth to her momma's gaping butt hole and hoovering out every
drop, which she swallowed with gusto. Now that was my kind of woman I thought to
myself.

	I began to detect this strange odor permeating the room. By now Mabel's
asshole had attached itself to my mouth and I was seeing how far up her back
passage I could get my tongue. She seemed to be enjoying the sensation that my
exploration was creating. That damned odor grew stronger, and it wasn't coming
from Mabel. Then the old woman began to chuckle, which provided my tongue with
some new and delightful stimulation. Who would have believed that giving a woman
on the wrong side of 50 a rim job could turn out to be so enjoyable. That is
just another of the benefits of livin' in the country. Now this is not to say
that I am eager to experience the sensations attached to butt fucking a pig or a
sheep as the mountain folk seem to enjoy doing. But when it comes to dicks
versus cunts, anything goes in the country.

	The ladies decided to show me some hospitality for my efforts. I was
freed from those cuffs and allowed to join them for a big country breakfast.
Midway through our morning repast, actually it was close to noon, there came a
knocking at the door, the first of many surprise visits from friends of the two
ladies. This one was Bonnie, a large, humorless woman who was a good buddy of
May. She joined us for breakfast and demolished a stack of corn cakes plus half
a side of bacon before issuing a large belch and wandering off in the direction
of the bathroom. This pudgy blonde behemoth was into pussy eating in a big way.
Upon returning to the testing bed, she shucked off her tent dress, and pulled
down her underpants to reveal a forest of thick pubic hair guarding what
appeared to be the mouth of a cave. I became very familiar with that terrain
over the next hour or so as Mabel, with the assistance of her daughter,
continued to test my ability to develop satisfactory erections which she then
put to good use.

	Bonnie soon was replaced by Wilma, a gray haired fuck buddy of Mabel who
was as thin as a rail and mean as a wild boar with a corn cob up its ass. It was
this evil creature who suggested we adjorn to the bathroom for some water sports
to give me a chance to recover some of my lost potency. Now I presume that most
of the readers understand that these kind of sports do not involve sailing,
swimming, diving or other activities that occur in the proximity of large
amounts of water. The kind I participated in emphasized the employment of water
and its derivatives in many new and most demeaning ways. Frankly speaking if
there was a water sports Olympics I would have walked away with a fistful of
gold medals.

	My body became a waterway of sorts, being fed all manner of liquids that
were either swallowed or delivered via the endless enemas that were provided for
my discomfort and their amusement. I soon dreaded the announcement by one of my
tormentors that it was time to take me into the bathroom.

	Worse still were the frequent phone calls that were exchanged between
May and my dear wife Rhonda, who was having the time of her life entertaining
the Tolliver twins, Terri and Traci. I will say more on that subject shortly.
Perhaps the lowest point in my weekend at Mabel's was when May called up Rhonda
to ask her to guess what was happening to yours truly based on sound alone.

	At the time one of Mabel's lady friends, who seemed to possess a super
sized bladder, was currently emptying its contents into my mouth. To incentivize
me to ingest as much of this golden stream as was humanly possible, May was
stretching my rectum with a large length of rubber molded from the penis of a
major black porn star, Mr. 15 Inches. My dear wife successfully guessed what was
happening after only a single hint, and then proceeded to bust a gut laughing at
my humiliation and discomfort. I was too busy guzzling down the gusher that was
issuing from this old woman's body to be offended. It was either that or drown
in her piss, not the best way to shuffle off this mortal coil.

	Another major activity that I endured had to do with efforts to
rearrange my colon by filling it to its limit, and at times I thought beyond,
with all manner of liquid solutions dispensed from a pair of big red enema bags
that seemed always filled to the brim. It appeared that every visitor to the
house that weekend, and there were many, had her own special enema recipe
guaranteed to break down the densest blockage imaginable.

	I took them hot, I took them cold. I took ones that burned, and I took
one that even made my insides itch, if such a thing is possible. Some of the
ingredients mentioned by the various practioners of this arcane art included
vinegar, cider vinegar not the white kind, and laundry detergent both liquid and
powder. The powder really could tear up ones insides if mixed improperly. I bled
for a week after that particulat one. There was mineral oil, hot, not cold,
motor oil that made me feel as if I had swallowed a chunk of iron, oil of
wintergreen that stung like fury, turpentine, an old favorite of many country
folk plus carbonated beverages, boiled coffe or tea and those special herbs that
sucked every drop of moisture from the mucous membrane lining my lower
intestines. That one was real fun when it was followed by a hot mineral oil
beauty. That was one of the few times I actually sobbed like a baby and begged
them to put me out of my misery.

	It became quite apparent to me that the only way to stay out of the
tiled torture chamber was to produce in the testing bed. A few of the ladies
took pity and supplied me with a few of those little blue pills that produced
rock solid erections that lasted for hours. It turned out that most of the
ladies were not offended if all my stiff cock could deliver was some pale watery
imitation of the real thing, since getting pregnant was not their aim. As one of
the older ladies told me as she dismounted with a smile, " I don't care much
what you deliver as long as it gives me the "trembles". As for me delivering
without any ammunition in the breech gave me the "shakes", an empty feeling
tinged with plenty of frustration. It was sort of like playing air guitar on
your dick.

	May didn't avail heself of my limited sevices for the first day and a
half. She did seem to be in the thick of things however. She hoovered my cock by
the hour in hopes of always getting one more erection out of it. She licked my
pecker clean of the mysterious coatings that developed on it after I had been
inside Mabel's asshole for any length of time. Her strong right arm tirelessly
jacked my cock off into the waiting mouths of many of our visitors. I figure I
must have fucked about fifteen hundred pounds of well aged pussy that day and
another thousand pounds of younger stuff. It was all a blur to me.

	I knew something was up when Mabel hinted to me that May was going to
provide me with a big surprise th next day after I had a chance to rest up from
my labors. She promised that I'd need ever ounce of whatever was left to
properly measure up to her daughter's testing and high expectations for me. This
was not good at all. Every surprise had been a bad one and somehow I knew this
was going to be the frosting on the cake for me.

	Up until this point the worse thing I had to endure was the damned phone
calls I'd get from Rhonda who was happily enjoying the companionship provided by
the Tolliver twins, Terri and Traci. While I was desperately trying to avoid a
fate worse han death, namely the total destruction of my sex organs, my dear
wife was in hog heaven. To make things even better for her, Ms. Marlowe had paid
them a surprise visit and decided to stay around to join in the fun and games.

	Here I'd be, on my back with perhaps two hundred pounds of dripping cunt
locked to my face while Mabel was giving me one of her patented gum jobs, and
then the phone would ring. Soon I'd be listening to the sounds of the twins
pleasuring my dear wife while she provided a blow by blow description of the
action taking place.

	"Oh baby, you should be here to see what those two are doing to my poor
pussy. Traci has my clit in a lip lock and she's nibbling me half way crazy.
Then that scamp, Terri, is seeing how far she can get her tongue up my cunt. Oh
my god, oh my god, I'm going to, I'm going to cummmmmmmmm!"

	"Hi honey bunch, how they treating you? May tells me you are going
steady with her mom's asshole. How come you don't rim me that way? How come I
only get your tongue up my asshole on special occasions? Thank the lord those
naughty twins are around to take care of my asshole and other spots as well. I
think Traci is a natural when it comes to sucking asshole, but Terri has a magic
finger and she just loves to swallow anything she dredges up from my shitter.
These two are so nasty I have to give them a good spanking every hour or so just
to keep them focused on getting me off rather than playing with each other. Not
that it isn't fun to watch whenever I'm too tired to pop off another good one."

	"It's me again honey, hope you're hanging in there. Would you believe
that I'm having my armpits licked and sucked by those nasty little sex machines?
They have given me so many nice orgasms that I'm all tired out. So these little
darlings are just enjoying my sweaty pits while they wait for me to rev up for
another round of hot nasty girl on girl sex. Sure am sorry that you're missing
all the fun. These two are just perfect for this old lady. Maybe I can trade you
in to Ms Marlowe in exchange for these two lovelies."

	"Guess who? Hear that sound? Care to take a stab at what's going on? OK,
be that way! Ms Marlowe and I are having a little contest to see how many times
we can get these little girls off in an hour using anything we can get our hands
on. She's got her fist half way up Traci's tight little cunt while I've got my
big dildo buried in Terri's ass while I run my trusty pocket rocket up and down
her juicy twat.  Damn! She going off again; that's the third time in a row for
her. I'm a cinch to win this contest unless her little heart gives out from
squeezing off so many of these big ones."

	All good things must come to an end and so finally, very late in the
evening, it boiled down to me, Mabel and May. The ladies were still feeling a
bit frisky and they were taking out their nervous energy on my sore battered
dick. They started out playing crack the whip with the poor length of well worn
flesh, slapping the head against the palms of their hands. This got boring and
the next thing I knew my sore cock was being banged down against a wooden table
tray. I realized that a steady diet of this was going to ruin any chances I had
for being able to qualify as either one's fuck toy, which had now become a
matter of honor.

	Mabel made me an offer I couldn't refuse; do her good one more time and
then I'd have the rest of the night off to recover so I'd be ready for more
abuse in the morning. Now it became a matter of getting hard, no small feat
considering the abuse my limber length had received to date. May worked her
middle finger up my asshole and moved it so that it contacted my prostate, which
was probably the size of a golf ball by now. Her other hand cupped my balls
which felt as if they had shrunk to the size of beebees. Not to be outdone Mabel
fastened her mouth aroud the head of my dick and proceeded to give me a combined
hum and gum job. Twenty minutes later I had developed a few signs of life, but
not enough for Mabel's tastes.

	Despite the objections voiced by May, who was concerned that any
additional amounts of those little blue pills could push me into a coma or
perhaps worse, Mabel slipped not one but two of these potent pills into my mouth
and followed that up with about a yard of her fat tongue. Minutes later I had a
stiff one that looked like a guided missile. Then the fun commenced.

	Mabel wasted no time hopping on board for a nice long pony ride. We went
out at a good pace and she kicked me into a higher gear for the race to the
finish line. She enjoyed that romp so much that we went on another longer ride.
This time I humped away like a mad man trying to get that payload launched while
she dug her spurs into my flanks and rode the hell out of me. I gave her a round
the world tour backwards and forwards, but she wanted still more. I was rapidly
running out of steam, even though my guided muscle was still making some
impressive dents inside her cunt. We both took a short break and May took over
to make sure that my dick would be in good working order once her mom wanted
another dash around the racetrack.

	This time Mabel wanted my stiff dick up her worn out asshole. This woman
was an anal addict if there ever was one. I started thinking about what it might
be like to have a 50 plus year old woman who loved taking it up the ass at my
beck and call. The idea didn't sound half bad to me at this point. Then Mabel
began corkscrewing my cock deep into her shitter and I helped, pumping my hips
to drive the spike that was my dick deeper and deeper into that hot hole. She
groaned and began to bounce that  nearly two hundred pound body up and down,
driving my dick completely into her brown eye.

	 "Oh damn that feels good! Give me all you got, no mercy, ream out this
old shitter and send me to heaven." Her exhortation pressed all the right
buttons and by some miracle I squirted a stream of watery fluid into her
asshole. My stream was so strong that Mabel could feel it washing the shit from
the walls of her colon. It took what little energy I had left to finish doing
her and then we both collapsed. The next thing I knew it was bright as day; I
was now in the home stretch.


				(To be continued)

                                        Livin' In the Country


					    Chapter 12


	It seems that while I was out cold, my totally depleted body feeling
like a piece of dried fruit, the ladies had done more than just get some rest.
It became apparent when May gave me a big, wet good-morning kiss that tasted
like her momma's butthole. I have observed that given a chance, most country
women just love to cuddle with other country women, whether or not they're
related. Being related does help since that usually means one doesn't have to
walk far to encounter the type of soft, warm, wet thing that makes life in the
country even more tolerable for members of the distaff side.

	Mabel came bounding in, looking for more than just a good-morning kiss.
I groaned inwardly and began to doubt if I'd ever get a chance to do something
with her daughter, who still was wearing that stupid skirt, or whatever it was.
I began to wonder if perhaps the red flag was up, but that never seemed to
inhibit any of my other partners, who seemed even more demanding when they were
in that very significant portion of the lunar cycle.

	Readying me for another ride in the park was no problem for these two
large ladies. Momma settled her pussy down on my face so I could lick the drops
of pee that stuck to her cunt from her first piss of the day. Meanwhile her
daughter fed my cock into momma's mouth, so she could gum me into a state of
readiness. Those two really worked well together, the combined suction and
stroking was perfectly in sync, evidence that these two had done plenty of
practicing on other lucky lads as well.

	Mabel rode me hard and I did my best to buck her big body off of my
wilted form, but she stuck to me like glue. I gobbled away on her big fun bags
as a diversion while our loins meshed into one big throbbing mass of fucking
flesh. She let out a whoop when I went off, spraying the walls of her cunt with
a nice coating of hot cum. While I rested I was treated to the sight of May
tonguing out her momma's well fucked twat, scooping up all those little wigglers
and swallowing them down like they were cream. It looked like another long day
ahead for this old cowboy.

	"Girl, you get that sad sack of a man hard again so he can cornhole me
good and proper.I really am in the mood for a big, hard dick tearing me up so I
can finally take a good dump. I ain't had a good one in about a week now. He'll
just have to do, even though that pecker of his is a little on the thin side for
me. It's the least this sorry excuse for a swordsman can do for this old lady." 
May gave me a shit-eating grin, she was real good at grinning, and got down to
business trying to revive me for the next round. I was about to learn that my
equipment had another capability that I never thought about; it could double as
a kind of laxative. Imagine that! Who would have guessed?

	May did her thing and soon I was ready to impale Mabel. For this
operation I had her on all fours, head down and ass tilted upwards a smidgen. It
took but a moment to wedge my "sword" past the ring of muscle guarding her back
passageway. I took a deep breath, wiggled my hips for good luck and slammed
every inch of my guided muscle into her backdoor. She yelped as that beefy body
of hers tried to accommodate my hard length. I shifted my hips from side to side
to get her nice and loose and then commenced giving her my best imitation of a
roto-tiller. I hammered that hole with everythng I had, using the little
humiliations that I had suffered during this weekend to add fuel to the fire
that was burning in my loins. I was determined that by the time I got done
packing whatever she had back there, her bowels would be locked up tight for a
week.

	May was taking this all in with a look on her face that told me she was
wondering if perhaps she had misjudged my abilities. I had every intention of
giving her a good demonstration of what she would be missing in the future,
before I left the premises. For now I concentrated on reaming and ruining her
momma's hind quarters. Every time I pulled back I gave her fat ass a good slap.
That made her clench her cheeks, which was just fine with me, because she was
getting kind of loose back there. Then while she was reacting to my slap I'd
plow her asshole as deep as I could go, then give a little back and forth motion
to stretch her a bit more. Then it would be back to square one for still another
go at that well-used tunnel.

	After a time Mabel's ass was a uniform shade of bright red and she was
wincing with each slap. I took a break, locking myself deep inside her and
milking her hanging titties like they were a set of udders. Her nipples got long
and hard after a minute or so of attention. She turned her head and told me to
get busy and fuck her good because she was getting awful close to having one of
those trembling things. Always the gentleman, I resumed pounding that asshole of
hers for all I was worth, whacking her big ass so hard that it sounded like the
crack of a whip. Then she stiffened for a brief spell, and started to let out
this long, loud groan that got louder as I continued to excavate her insides,
rapidly approaching that moment when I would deliver my payload deep within that
fucked out tube of spasming flesh. We got off about as close together as two
people involved in this type of activity could. In the words of my teenager, "It
was epic!"

	We lay side by side trying to recover from what had been an awesome
collision of the sexes; I guess you could have called it a draw since neither
one of us could move a muscle for about ten minutes. Then Mabel rolled over and
fed me some tit to see if I was interested in continuing this fuck to a finish.

	I have to admit that a woman has a lot more weapons at her disposal than
we do, which gives her a tremendous edge in this eternal battle of the sexes. I
never knew of any woman who got excited if I pushed my nipple into her mouth.
Most women don't bat much of an eyelash at the sight of our manly figures. Even
our best features don't impress them as much on display as when we are actually
using them to our best advantage.

	When you look at the creatures of the field it's a totally different
story. Most of the male members are really tricked out, and the opposite sex is
kind of dull and drab. Not so with our species. I don't care if she's tall,
short, skinny, or fat, that pussy will always get my attention. On top of that
unless she's flat as a board and her nipples are buried in her chest, she still
can attract a man's attention. It just doesn't seem fair at all. Here is a woman
old enough to be my mother, overweight by fifty pounds at least, with tits that
are hanging down to her pot belly, and I'm getting a hard-on just because she
just stuck one of those saggy bags of flab into my mouth; strange world we live
in, isn't it?

	The next thing I know Mabel has got herself up on her knees and starts
crawling towards me with a determined look on her face. Those big tits of hers
are swaying back and forth as she approaches; it's almost as if they are
hypnotizing me. I have no will, I just lay there waiting for whatever she wants
to do to my poor worn out body. Then she is upon me and that dripping maw of a
cunt is being dropped down on my face. The sight of that wrinkled clam blocking
out the light of day as it descends on my face is awesome. I open wide and stick
out my tongue to welcome her home. Then I am squashed flat as all of her sweaty,
nearly two hundred pound body locks onto me. The smell, taste and texture of a
dripping cunt is not something that can be easily described. It is something
that is experienced for what it is, a primordial return to the womb is perhaps
the best way of putting it.

	The instinct for self-preservation is also a powerful force and so I
commenced a counter attack that featured plenty of sucking, licking, kissing and
even a nip or two to get her attention. She responded by making minor
adjustments in that mass of pebbled flesh so I managed now and then to get some
air. It was just enough to keep me from going under, but insufficient for me to
escape her powerful grip.

	"I think a real gentleman would suck out all that cum he just pumped
into my asshole; wouldn't you agree?" she said, working her body around to the
point that her oozing butt hole was poised over my mouth. Knowing when to strike
the flag, I began applying myself diligently to the task at hand. It was sort of
like using a straw to suck up some clam chowder, but I persisted, and after many
long minutes spent developing a good vacuum between my mouth and her anal
passageway, all sorts of moist and slimy things began accumulating in my mouth.
I refused to consider what they might be, but applied myself to ingesting them
as quickly as was possible under the circumstances. I was soon rewarded with
more air and a glimpse of the outside world.

	All good things must come to an end, and so it was for my relationship
with Mabel's butt hole. She stretched and gave me a big grin. "I do believe you
have passed muster. That pecker of yours is a bit on the thin side, but I must
admit that you can deliver what this old woman needs. You do seem to have some
idea about what you're doing with that tongue, and I really did enjoy that butt
sucking you just delivered. That's something that very few men have ever pulled
off. You are hired. I'll work out the details concerning the whens, wheres and
whats with your dear wife. Now I'm going to sit back and enjoy what's about to
occur between you and my naughty daughter."

	I glanced over at May and saw that malicious grin starting to break
across her face. I knew that there was trouble ahead. She started to fumble with
that wraparound thing she'd been wearing the whole weekend. I was curious about
what it concealed. As she unknotted it, she told me a little story about how
Rhonda had bragged to her about the major league tongue bath I'd given her. That
sure surprised me since she seemed to have been spending most of the time being
critical of my efforts. So May had decided to go Rhonda one better in the full
body tongue bath department; she'd make her body a real challenge for me to do
the proper way. One thing a lot of men forget about a tongue bath, it's a bath!
It's supposed to leave the woman's skin nice and moist and definitely clean.
Naturally the more extraneous material one has to remove during this operation,
the more challenging it becomes.

	When May finally unveiled herself, I knew I was in for one long and
daunting afternoon. I just gawked at what I was looking at. May had on a pair of
panties made out of some kind of plastic that I could see through. Stuffed
underneath looked to be a big diaper. This was the biggest baby I'd ever laid
eyes on in my life. Then Mabel told me that her daughter had scrupulously
avoided any contact with soap and water for the past four days. That explained
the mysterious odor I picked up on some occasions. Worse still May had been
wearing those plastic panties for two days straight without ever taking them
off. That diaper was floating in a sea of piss, having long since absorbed all
that it was designed for.

	May yanked the plastic panties down and they fell to the floor along
with a goodly amount of the piss they had contained. The aroma of stale pee
mingling with unwashed flesh filled the room and even Mabel had to pull the
sweat soaked sheets of the bed up to cover her nose and mouth. The soaked diaper
clung to May's body and released a steady stream of piss that wrapped around her
thighs and legs as it made the journey to the floor. I was dumb struck at this
sight.

	As she peeled the sodden diaper from her pussy May acted as if she was
doing a strip tease. Unfortunately the stench coming from her was enough to gag
a maggot. I put my hand to my face to try to block out some of this stomach
turning odor. I was wondering how May was able to stand there at ground zero and
not be doubled up trying to puke her guts out. They do make them out of stern
stuff out here in the country. By this time Mabel was putting down some burlap
bags over the bedsheets to protect them from the mess that was glued to her
daughter's body. May settled down on the rough fabric and put her arms out
towards me. "OK lover, commence cleaning. I want you to get every bit of dirt
and stuff off my feet and make sure you lick the soles nice and clean, only the
lord knows what they've stepped in during the last four days."

	Her feet stunk to high heaven, but it was a different kind of stink, and
it masked out the horrible stench that was coming from the region of her pussy.
I applied myself to the task at hand, or was it foot in this case. It took some
doing to get rid of all this strange stuff adhering to the soles of her feet,
but most of it had no flavor to speak of, a great blessing. The same could not
be said for the region between her plump piggies, which was what country girls
called their toes. As I sucked each and every one of her lower digits she teased
me by poking them unexpectedly into my mouth or up my nose while I worked. "
Momma is he getting hard yet? Most of the boys that do my toes get real hard
when they do that, is he?" Mabel laughed and replied that I was probably too
fucked out from doing her so much to get hard unless my tongue was up May's
asshole. She giggled and said, "That'll happen sooner or later today or
tonight." I groaned inwardly, realizing this might be one for the record books.
I wondered if my tongue would be able to hold up under the strain of covering so
much territory in such a relatively short time.

	Some hours later I was lapping up the filth and dried piss from the
backs of May's legs, covering the area from just blow her ass cheeks to the
hollow in her knee. I had managed to get her off once already by paying special
attention to that hot button zone of her big body. Mabel had long since
disappeared to take care of some chores. Just as I was tickling that tender area
right under her fat ass cheeks there came a commotion, and I heard the sounds of
Mabel and another female talking away as they approached where I was doing May.
I didn't know if it was a blessing or a curse that another old friend of Mabel
had dropped in to take a turn on Mabel's new stud or whatever I was to be.

	This one was not your standard issue country female type. First of all
she was skinny as a rail, thin to the point of being painful. Second she looked
to be about seventy years old, give or take ten years. Her face was a sea of
wrinkles and she had some kind of a shaking problem, her hands never seemed to
be still and her head kept bobbing around as if she was ducking some phantom
punches.

	Mabel introduced her as her old school teacher who had taught her more
than just the three Rs. It seems this shaky old lady had been a handful in her
younger days and she was an equal opportuniy kind of fucker. She had never met a
cock or cunt that she didn't like. She was responsible for breaking in a
significant fraction of the male population of the surounding area in her
capacity as the only school teacher in the region. Her after hours classes in
such disciplines as "The Care and Feeding of the Pussy", a course open to males
and females as well, and "A Lady's Guide to the Male Equipment", open only to
members of the distaff side, are still considered to be classics.

	It seems that this old bag of bones had a protogee by the name of Mimi
Marlowe, a legend in her own right and the woman currently holding control over
the Tolliver twins, my targets of opportunity for the next three weekends if I
survived today. That knowlege suddenly made this elderly lady a person who I
dearly wanted to make happy, no matter what it entailed.

	When the old woman, her name was Sadie, started to undress it became
apparent that I had my work cut out for me. She was so frail that most of my
best positions for putting the wood to her were eliminated. She unhooked her bra
and these two shrunken sausages that once were probably a great set of tits came
into view. Her panties hung off her jutting hip bones, and her belly was so
caved in that it looked as if she was deliberately sucking in her gut, except
there was no gut, just a layer of wrinkled skin. She hooked her fingers into the
waistband of those white cotton drawers and they dropped to the floor. There was
a sparse patch of white hair guarding a cunt that featured the longest, most
wrinkled set of lips I'd ever seen. What was amazing was the fact that the mouth
of her cunt was sort of open and had a reddish color. I wondered how much time
she spent playing with that twat to make it that swollen. This was going to be a
very tricky proposition.

	Mabel and her daughter did the honors, and in no time I was hard as
steel. Sadie totally ignored the stink surrounding the bed and climbed on board.
She knew what she was doing, so I just laid there and let her put her cunt where
it felt the best. Sadie was loose, very, very loose. I guessed she must be using
a pretty big dildo or vibrator to make her box that slack. I shifted my hips and
tried to develop a little friction; she made some moves as well. Soon I was 
pumping her very carefully, noticing how dry her cunt was. She made some little
noises and then stuck her tongue into my mouth so I could suck on it as we
fucked slowly. It was like doing a soap bubble, that's how frail she felt. We
broke for air and she asked me to suck on her tits, which I did.

	Things began to get a bit strange once I put my mouth to those shriveled
bags of loose flesh. Suddenly she began to pick up the pace, moving that skinny
body with more enthusiasm. Then I heard her start to give me some pretty
specific orders, just like I was the student and she was once more the teacher.
"Bite those titties, make them bleed!....Harder damn it, harder!.....Come on
fuck me, what's your problem?.....Fuck me you miserable excuse for a stud! I
want to feel that cock punching my guts out!"

	She got to me and I forgot all about the fact that I was fucking a frail
old bag of bones who looked like she'd blow away in a high wind. I started
putting the wood to her and she started fucking me back. We quickly built up a
good head of steam and that bed began to creak as we took it into overdrive. I
rolled her over so I was on top and now I really began punching her insides out
and she loved it. Her mouth was wide open as she gasped for air, but her hips
kept on pumping as she stared at the ceiling and concentrated on getting herself
off.

	She suddenly let out a loud scream and I felt her cunt clamp itself
around my pistoning cock as she went off like a bomb, shivering and shaking
through a huge orgasm. I was simply amazed at what I was seeing and feeling;
this woman  was almost lifting me off her body as she went completely crazy,
biting me on the shoulder and nipping my lip as well. I exploded and flooded her
insides with what felt like a gallon of hot cum. This was some of the most
intense sex I'd had in many a moon. Then she seemed to fade and turn into the
rather weak old woman that had mounted me a few long minutes ago. Sadie was
something else, and this was the first of many extraordinary sessions I was to
have with this sexual marvel.

	Sadie wasted no time getting up and dressed. I resumed licking the
strange mixture of mystery materials that had accumulated on the inside of May's
thighs. Just before Sadie departed she pinched me on the ass and said, "This one
will do just fine once I have a chance to give him a few lessons. Mabel honey,
you did pretty good this time." Her comments made my day and I think helped me
get through the next four hours.

	Rather than provide a blow by blow or perhaps a lick by lick description
of what transpired over the next four hours, I'll just give some highlights.
Easily the worst moments involved excavating the region between her cheeks. What
collected there was indescribable, but there was plenty of it. It required me to
first loosen the stuff with plenty of spit and then apply suction to break it
into manageable chunks. I never in my life had so many bad tastes in my mouth at
once. Every bit of this solidified mung, for want of a better word, was a
challenge to my stomach and nostrils. I am amazed at what a person can get used
to if left to deal with it for enough time. May did not help matters; releasing
a barrage of farts that nearly made me pass out while I was working in that
trench. Methane in close quarters can be a serious problem, and one couldn't get
much closer than having their nose jammed up against a big old chocolate
starfish.

	A close second in the not for public consumption derby involved the hour
and a half I spent working to clean up a seemingly endless number of layers of
dried sweat, cunt drippings and urine salts that had solidified within and
around the surrounding area of her perpetually juicing cunt. To make matters
worse the minx had stopped keeping her pubic area smooth shaven; for the past
week she had let her pubes grow. Now that doesn't sound like much, but try
licking skin that has a stubble of stiff pubic hair. It was like having a
thousand little needles poking into my skin and tongue as I lapped and slobbered
to dissolve this gunk to the point that I could suction it up and swallow it
down. It was not a pleasant thing to do and it left a taste in my mouth that
took days to finally leave. My dear wife, Rhonda, even refused to kiss me or let
me go down on her for fear of contracting some dread disease. So when it came to
pussy the feast turned into a famine overnight.

	The show horse in this top three things I'll never do again, had to do
with her armpits, which were a swamp of mysterious liquid compounds that had
formed and then grown into mini-oceans that burned the sensitive tissue of my
tongue as it plowed through the hidden reefs of week old stubble, in much the
same state of sharpness as that guarding her pubic mound. It was almost the
straw that broke this camel's back, but I persisted until she announcdd herself
satisfied with my performance. She then rewarded me by allowing access to her
cunt the old fashion way, via my  hard cock. Despite my exhaustion and the fact
that her momma and friends had worn me to a frazzle, I was able to acquit myself
in a manner that was deemed acceptable by my partner in slime.



				(To be continued)

					Livin' In the Country


					   Chapter 13



	There may be those among you who will be disappointed that the
rendezvous between my protagonist and the Tolliver twins has been delayed or,
perish the thought, preempted by another plot line. You can imagine my feelings
on this matter! However I am at the beck and call of my muse, whoever she may
be. At this point in my tale it's a toss-up between Melpomene or Thalia; you
call it. She has decided that this ole country boy must now set out on a journey
of self discovery, another way of stating that this sorry excuse for a
protagonist has to get out of the comfortable rut he finds himself in. I can
only trust that you will bear with me in hopes that your patience will be richly
rewarded by its conclusion, which in all likelihood will feature all manner of
"not for prime time" couplings, paybacks and other deviant behavior that is now
so out of fashion in this red state country that the pundits claim we all now
live in.

* * *  * * *  * * *  * * *  * * *  * * *  * * *  * * *  * * *  * * *  * * *  * *

	Upon arriving at my castle, dragging my sorry ass behind me, I was
greeted warmly by my conniving wife, Rhonda, and her brood of children, some of
whom might even be related to me by blood, and not just marriage. It had been a
long and most frustrating weekend, made doubly bad by the phone sex teasing and
previews of cumming attractions offered by my dear life partner, who seemed to
have developed a streak of nastiness in her that was positively breathtaking as
well as dick softening. It would be a very long time before I would forgive her
mendacity when it came to the matter of the Tolliver twins. There is no doubt in
my mind that she and May were in cahoots when it came to setting the date for my
tryout, such as it was. The only advantage I seem to have gained from that
roughly forty-eight hour exercise in futility and embarrassment was the
introduction to Mimi Marlowe's mentor. This I was sure would stand me in good
stead at some future time.

	My dear wife could not keep a straight face when she saw the condition I
was in. It was obvious that May had been on the phone giving Rhonda all the
juicy details of how she totally humiliated me. My lips and mouth felt funny,
but it wasn't until I saw my face in a mirror that I realized just how god awful
I looked. I had this ring of red around my mouth and my lips were swollen and
cracked. I looked like I had aged about ten years in one weekend. I vowed
vengeance on May and Rhonda, already beginnng to devise a plan that would turn
the tables on them both.

	Things got even more out of hand when Rhonda declared in front of the
brood that I would not be on the receiving end of her affections until the sores
on my face went away and stayed away for at least another week. Then it felt as
if I had been stabbed through the heart when she informed me that she would not
be allowing me access to the Tolliver twins until she had personally given me a
clearance that I was well enough to have sexual congress with those twin
teasers. I got so mad I thought I was having a heart attack. Who in the hell had
appointed her the caretaker of morality and clean living? Then it sank in to me;
she and Mimi Marlowe had spent a great portion of the weekend enjoying the twins
and each other. I'm sure Rhonda now had an in with that woman that trumped any
arrangement Mimi and I had made previously.


	It was then that I decided to go on the offensive. If Mimi thought she
was going to keep my former guests, Marie and Marty, and also renege on her
promise of access to the Tolliver twins, she had another think coming. They were
about to discover that what I may have lacked in deviousness, I more than
compensated for by my forthright belief in justice and the American way, not to
mention the freedom to pursue any strange pussy that crossed my path.

	While I was at it, I also decided that it was time to find out just who
was who when it came to being in the family. I was pretty damn sure that Jack
was no kin to me, and as far as Tammi was concerned, it was a flip of the coin.
The other one, Glenda, the lesbian in training, could not possibly be the fruit
of my loins, so to speak. It was time to take a little trip down the road to the
nearby college of animal husbandry and see what I could scare up in the line of
DNA testing.

	After eating dinner I felt the need to visit the land of Nod and so I
trundled off to bed like some worn out oldster who had just put in a couple of
pretty hard days doing the bidding of some extremely devious members of the
other sex. Rhonda took pity on my sorry ass and offered to give me a blowjob to
sort of take the edge off of things before starting another week at the feed
store. I declined with thanks, but the last thing I was in the mood for was
another woman, even my dear devious wife, handling my private parts out of pity
or something even worse.

	Fortunately for me, my protogee at work was not deterred by my
appearance, and we enjoyed a very mutually productive and beneficial social
interaction. I had to admit that this one really took an interest in her work at
the company and was most eager to not only get ahead, but to give as much head
as was possible in the name of boosting employee morale. I was planning to soon
promote her to be my personal assistant. She already had a good handle on the
job qualifications and had demonstrated a high level of skill in the more
important aspects of the position.

	I sometimes have problems remembering names, which a fella once told me
was an effort on my part to prevent myself from knowing them for reasons that
were not obvious or trying to prevent them from knowing me. The one thing I do
remember about the conversation was that it gave me a slight headache and I
plumb forgot what that fella's name was. Perhaps this was what was troubling me
about my protogee; I was having the damndest time trying to remember her name.

	I can tell you that she has a pair of tits that fill up her bra which is
a size 39D. I can easily recall that her left nipple is kind of pushed in a bit,
that her right tit is the bigger of the two, and that they both point out away
from her. I can remember that she has a little mole just to the right and down
about an inch from her clitoris. I know for a fact that her pussy smells like a
mixture of lemon and bleach and its taste reminds me of liver and onions for
reasons that I will never understand. I can tell you details about her pussy
that no one would ever be interestd in knowing. I know exactly where those two
cute dimples on her heart-shaped butt are with respect to that chocolate
starfish that I have had the repeated pleasure of breaching with my rigid male
member. However unless she's wearing a name tag that says "Hi, my name is...?",
I am lost when it comes to the matter of her given name.

	In order to keep this little story moving along at a good pace, I've
decided that my protogee is named Pamela because in the right light and without
her clothing she sort of reminds me of that babe from the television show about
those lifeguards who all looked like movie stars and sure filled out those red
one piece bathing suits that never seemed to come off no matter what they were
doing.

	My latest interaction with Pamela came at a time when I was in ill humor
from the various and sundry setbacks that I was experiencing across all fronts.
I had just been rejected by May on the grounds of age and lack of girth. I had
been grudgingly accepted by a woman old enough to be my mama, who insisted that
I needed to learn some new tricks in order to properly meet her exacting
standards. My wife, who I knew to be rather free with her affections, had put me
on her "not to fuck" list, a monumental insult to what was left of my male
pride. I had at least three children who I suspected had been fathered by other
members of my tribe. Finally I was now being deprived of what was rightfully
mine, to wit access to the bodies of the Tolliver twins, a pair of budding
beauties that were a once in a lifetime opportunity for fun and frolic on a
grand scale.

	My boss was not one to let personal business get in the way of making
money. However I was able to somehow convince him that my protogee, Pamela, the
one in the one piece bathing suit, would be an acceptable one day replacement
for me and would also provide me an opportunity to evaluate her for a position
of more responsibility. My boss thought that to be a fine idea and even offered
to keep a watchful eye on Pamela as she went about her duties.

	I did detect a twinkle in his baleful eye at my use of the word
"position", perhaps not the best of choices. Come to think of it we had been
trying out so many "positions" since beginning our little mentoring sessions,
that the word had lost its prime meaning. In my dictionary, which I am forced to
visit on many occasions as I pen this tale, the word position has about one
dozen different meanings. Unfortunately only definition 4b, which refers to the
arrangement of bodily parts has any significance at present.

	I am living proof that even a blind hog can now and then find an acorn.
This was driven home to me as a result of my visit to the Wellington Wadsworth
School of Animal Husbandry, an imposing title for a set of rather rundown
buildings located next to the barns, corrals and pens for the various animals
that were the laboratory for the work carried out at this institute of higher
learning. I had been given the name of one of the faculty and we engaged in
conversation on the matter of obtaining DNA information about certain members of
my immediate family.

	It was quickly apparent that I had come to the wrong place for such a
service. However he just happened to know a fellow member of academia (that was
what he called the organization that both he and this other fellow belonged to)
who was doing a study of family relationships in the rural environment. He gave
me his name and phone number and told me to mention that he had recommended that
I speak to him about participating in this little study. I thanked him profusely
and departed, feeling that I was now well on my way to finding out the truth
about all those damned kids that seemed to be placed on this earth only to vex
and prevent me from attaining my true station in life. I knew that deep down I
was put on this earth to be the master of at least a dozen nubile young ladies
all eager to support me in the style that was my natural birthright. Without
giving away too much, I will only state that my meeting and subsequent
relationship with Professor Philo Plankton MD, PhD, HHD, LLD, and any other D
you care to mention was one of those watershed events in my life.

	Returning earlier than I had anticipated did not prove to be a very
smart maneuver. It seems that my boss and Pamela had been involved in a series
of lengthy meetings during my absence. It also seemed that nobody was minding my
part of the store, which had led to a number of incidents, none of which were
deemed to be of a positive nature. It was well after normal hours before I
managed to clean up the mess that had developed.

	Returning home I was immediatly asssailed by my dear wife and two of her
children, Tammi and Glenda. It seems that Jack, her eldest boy, had begun to
switch his interest from Tammi who he had been nailing without fail every time
he had the opportunity, to his younger sister, or perhaps half-sister, the
budding lesbian princess, Glenda. I was hungry and still smarting from the
weekend fiasco and now the revelation that my protogee had opted to become the
morale builder for the owner of the company. So I yelled at everyone I could
find and told Rhonda that she better be putting some dinner down in front of me
in about ten seconds or I was going to turn her and that band of bastards out
into the woods where they truly belonged.

	Things got real quiet at that moment. Rhonda just stood there with her
pie hole wide open. The brood stared at their mama and then at me. As they say,
this was one of them there moments of truth. This old country boy had been
pushed to the wall and he was about ready to start pushing back.

	Finally Rhonda closed her trap; she had barely missed swallowing the fly
that had begun to take up housekeeping in that big mouth she possessed. She
bustled and hustled around the kitchen and in a short time I was facing a mound
of food, some of it even palatable. I gave those kids of hers a baleful look and
they scattered like chaff in a high wind, leaving Ronda and I to share the
stage. She sat there in silence as I polished off dinner, hardly tasting it. I
was in no mood for conversation, so I got up and headed for the porch to sit and
think.

	There is a lot to be said for country life and ways, but there are also
limits to what one will endure to enjoy the benefits associated with livin' in
the country. I had hit the wall. What had been happening in the past month or so
was no bump in the road, it was more like a sink hole, and that thing was
swallowing me up. For the first time since I met Rhonda, when she was just a
slip of a girl going around a hundred pounds less than her current self, I began
to seriously consider whether I still wanted to put up with her little foibles
and nasty disposition. It was slowly dawning on me that I was becoming some kind
of entertainment for her and her circle of strange friends like May.

	Those thoughts led me to consider a question I'd never asked myself. Was
I actually capable of siring children? Had I ever been capable of fathering
anyone's child? I started thinking of all the ladies I'd dallied with over the
years; none of them had ever come back accusing me of getting them in the family
way. I had always attributed this non-event to the code of the country, perhaps
I'd been kidding myself all these years. There was only one way to find out, and
that was something else I had to add to my list of things to do.

	My rather contrite wife was waiting for me when I got to bed, offering
an olive branch dripping with pussy juice. I declined with thanks, and informed
her that I would be taking my leave from the premises for a yet to be determined
period of time in order that I may deal with a few obstacles to my continued
happiness as her husband and boon companion.  She did not take kindly to this
information, but to her credit, she knew when not to argue with me.

	I slept soundly that night and awoke refreshed and eager to set out on
this new adventure. However I did find the time to run Rhonda's oldest boy,
Jack, to ground and explain a few facts of country life and protocol to him. I
also threatened to turn him into one of those eunuchs he and his buddies often
joked about to each other, if he so much as laid an eye on either of his female
siblings in my absence. I cracked him across the head and shoulders a few times
to make sure he understood the seriousness of my declaration.

	My next stop was to visit the feed store and inform my boss that I was
taking a leave of absence to take care of some personal business. He was a bit
taken aback at this sudden turn of events and inquired if loosing my assistant
had anything to do with this request. Ever the company man, I assured him that
nothing could be further from the truth, biting my tongue as I delivered this
statement. I spread it on thicker by commenting that I felt that Pamela, or
whatever her name was, could ably fill in for me while I was dealing with this
pressing personal matter. Those prevarications being said, I made my departure
and headed for the bus depot to begin my journey to see Dr. Philo Plankton.


					(To be continued)

					Livin' In the Country



					     Chapter 14



	It turned out that Professor-Doctor-Et Cetera Philo Plankton lived on
what they referred to as the Left Coast, a strange way to name that part of the
nation. In particular he lived in a small town, outside of what we called Sodom
and Gomorrah II, by the name of Northridge. In reality, as I was soon to
discover, Northridge was no small town and in fact it was part of Sodom and
Gomorrah II.  To carry this fact finding still further, Northridge was nearly at
ground zero when it came to sex and immorality. I could go on for days about all
the strangeness that went into defining the second largest city in the USA as
far as population was concerned, but that would not really add much to my story.
Suffice to say Philo Plankton lived pretty high on the hog and his address was
considered to be a sign of someone who had made it out there in the land of
smog, floods, landslides, fire and earthquakes.

	To get from point A which was where I lived, and point B where he lived,
required me to spend the better part of two days on this crowded bus that rarely
stopped for longer than an hour at any place in between. Had it not been for the
arrival of one Connie Cunny who joined us somewhere in the state of Oklahoma, a
land of oil men, preachers, football players and Indians, in that order of
importance, there would have been little to tell about my great journey to the
Pacific Ocean.

	This young lady with a wholesome face that was pretty but not beautiful
and a set of tits that were unreal and turned out to be very real drew my
attention shortly after she plunked herself down next to me and announced that
she was heading west to become a movie star. I was most impressed, having never
met anyone before who aspired to such a lofty status.

	I made a series of inquiries concerning the requirements that were
necessary to become a movie star and the number of opportunities that were open
to young women such as herself. It was then that CC, as she liked to be called,
told me about the San Fernando Valley, a strange and wondrous place which was
home to a billion dollar industry that had a constant demand for young ladies
who enjoyed taking off their clothing and doing what came naturally, and in some
cases unnaturally, in front of video cameras.

	CC considered herself vey well qualified for employment in this growing
industry that was immune to the factors that caused other business endeavors to
fluctuate in some kind of a random pattern over the years. She claims to have
started practicing for this career when she turned thirteen and began filling
out in all the right places. I had to admit that she possessed all the
attributes of a healthy, happy and very horny country girl. I immediately began
to scheme to both ingratiate and insinuate my person into her circle of intimate
friends or acquaintances; at this point either situation would suffice.

	I began to regale her with stories about my life and times in the
country and how happy I had been until my dear wife, Rhonda, had passed away
from exhaustion one night while we were in the midst of making mad, passionate
love as had been our wont every single evening of our entire married life.
However it wasn't until I casually mentioned my six children who were currently
staying with my sister-in-law while I sought my fortune in the Golden or was it
Gilded state that I got a nibble from my seat mate. Actually it was more like a
pat on the thigh which became a squeeze, as if informing me that we might be
getting together in a manner of speaking once darkness fell and our boon
companions had nodded off.

	Let's face it, most of what I said about my life in the country was true
except for the part about Rhonda being dead, claiming all of her children as my
own and the seeking my fortune fib. Come to think about it, I was in a sense
seeking my fortune, only it was a prediction and not something material. I
wondered how that compared to what I had heard from the charming Miss Cunny, who
appeared to be well-named. All those musings were blown away that evening when
CC got down to business and gave me a demonstration of her oral skills that
would definitely give her an advantage in any interview she had. This little
girl could suck the chrome off a car bumper. I hadn't felt anything like that
since my cousin stuck my dick inside a vacuum cleaner nozzle and turned the
damned thing on.

	When I went off, flooding her mouth with a day's worth of little
wigglers, she just gulped them right down and smacked her lips when she was
finished. "Damn, you taste just like my dear old granddad!", she observed. That
was not exactly what I was hoping to hear from this sweet young thing. On the
other hand at least I reminded her of a family member, even if he was kind of
long in the tooth. I wondered what she'd say to another round, but decided that
I'd let her call that tune. She got up and headed back to what passed for the
bathroom on this wheeled wonder, bouncing off a few of the other riders, who
were doing their best to get some sleep. I closed my eyes and the next thing I
knew she was shaking me by the shoulder and whispering for me to get over next
to the window so she could have a little more leg room.

	 Once I got resettled she started telling me what happened when she got
to the little john in the rear of the bus. It seems it was occupied, and so she
waited a spell. Since her bladder was by now full to bursting she pounded on the
metal door. Getting no answer she resumed pounding and this time a man's voice
told her to go away. At that point she hauled off and began kicking the door.
This time she heard a woman's voice advising her that the place was occupied. CC
was not one to take no for an answer when it came to being allowed to relieve
herself. She threatened to inform the driver of what was going on unless those
two fornicators decamped from the rest room and allowed her to use it for the
purpose for which it was designed.

	By now she had gotten the attention of a number of folks whose sleep she
had disturbed. They were less than enchanted by hearing about this little
discussion that was going on between her and the two inside the john.
Fortunately one of the aroused sleepers had noticed her when she climbed aboard
and he decided to show her what a gentleman he was. He was a large man and his
voice was deep and dripping with menace as he informed the pair inside that they
had thirty seconds to clear out or he was going to break down the door and toss
their sorry asses out of the window. That did the trick. Then CC started
giggling to beat hell as she told me that the couple that came out had to be at
least in their sixties. I just hunkered down in my seat and tried to go back to
sleep.

	I nodded off for a time, but awoke to discover that the little minx had
unzipped me and was busily working on my tool to get it into readiness for
another adventure. But before I got mine, she wanted something from me, namely
my tongue, specifically my tongue on and inside her pussy which was fetchingly
displayed once she lifted the blanket from her lap. CC had taken the liberty of
removing her panties while taking care of business in the back of the bus and
was ready for a little bit of reciprocity on my part. Ever the gentleman, I
managed to get my head under that blanket and sniff around until I discovered
her smooth shaven pussy. I did some exploring and then some nuzzling to sort of
get an idea of what kind of pussy I was going to be eating for the rest of the
night.

	I got so wrapped up in my work that it was nearly daylight before I came
up for air. I guess all the excess that I'd experienced in the last week had
strengthed me so that I was able to perform at the top of my game for an
inordinate amount of time. CC later confessed that she nearly passed out on a
number of occasions; the one that got her closest was when I triple tongued her
pussy, one of my prime moves, while at the same time I twirled my finger around
inside her asshole which acted like a snapping turtle. I could tell already that
this young lady was going to go far in the porn industry provided she got a
break or two. Things got so heated that she washed my face on two occasions with
this stuff that squirted from her pussy and definitely did not taste or smell
like pee.

	This pretty thing had a repertoire of tricks that was simply amazing for
one so young, especially since our loins never once locked during that long
night we spent on the bus. Much later it dawned on me that I had never had the
opportunity of enjoying a return encounter with that magic mouth of hers. CC
made a solemn promise that once we arrived in the land of fruits and nuts, she
would take care of that little oversight. She turned out to be a woman of her
word, but there were many strange twists and turns before we were reunited and
had the chance to discover if that bus trip was just our imagination or had been
as good as we both remembered it to be.

	We arrived late that day. I had spent most of my time grabbing little
cat naps as the bus rolled across flat lands, desert, through a few mountain
passes and finally deposited us in the heart of La-La Land (I'm not sure about
the hyphen) as the locals sometimes referred to this place of sun, smog and sin.
During that day CC had struck up a friendship of sorts with that large fella
that had assisted her in gaining access to the restroom on the bus. I knew
something was in the offing when she hustled herself down to where I was located
and informed me she was changing seats. She also indicated that as far as our
little liaison was concerned, it was going to be put on hold while she and this
stranger, whose name was Jake, made their way to their own Golconda, to wit,
employment in the adult entertainment industry.

	When I inquired as to how I might get in touch with her in the future,
she gave me this big ole country girl smile and said, "It should be easy in a
month or so because by then I'm gonna be a big star in the movies and it should
be real easy for you to contact me through my agency." Then she kissed me on the
lips and stuck about a yard of tongue down my throat in the process, making my
knees buckle. All I could think of was that song that Ringo Starr made so
popular a few decades ago when he was going through his country music phase. I
wonder if CC ever heard it, then dismissed the matter from my consciousness.

	I must say that the bus depot was centrally located in the heart of the
city, such as it was. The first thing I noticed was that the place was overrun
with people doing their best to hustle anyone who looked in the slightest to be
from the country. Naturally I was accosted on numerous occasions as I made my
way out of this labyrinth and into the smoggy twilight.

	The place was a mess with papers and such covering the street. Most of
the people wandering about were speaking in foreign tongues and much of the
writing I could see was also in all kinds of scripts I'd never seen at home. If
I didn't know better, I might have thought myself to be in a foreign country,
one of those third world kinds that I occasionally hear spoken of.

	A few blocks further down, the paper was replaced by people, bedding
down for the evening. I was naturally taken aback at the squalor and lack of
friendliness on the part of those still standing. Not knowing any better, I had
walked the wrong way and now was among alcoholics, the homeless, the outlaws and
the just down and out that had either came here to find their fortune and
failed, or were born here and failed. It was not a pleasant place to find one's
self in.

	I made tracks in another direction, following my nose which was
currently being assailed by smells that one would not discuss in polite society.
I felt hemmed in by the tall buildings, most of them covered in dirt and a
mixture of solidified diesel oil fumes and bird droppings. The people walking
about were all kinds of sizes, shapes and colors, but they all looked the same
with this blank stare on their faces and their heads down as if looking for
coins that may have been dropped by others or in one case I actually witnessed,
a cigarette that was only half smoked. At that point I was ready to turn tail,
find that damned bus depot and make the trip back to the country.

	Somehow I managed to find shelter that night, but it proved to be just
another example of why one should never live in a place where most of the sky is
blocked out by tall, dirty piles of concrete and steel that seem to serve no
earthly function. On one side of me was a man who spent most of the time either
crying or screaming that there was something coming out of the walls to get him.
On the other came the sounds of people engaging in my favorite indoor sport,
interrupted regularly by the sound of the door opening and closing. I finally
got accustomed to the sounds surrounding me and so I lapsed into a deep sleep,
thankful for the fact that at least I was stretched out on something resembling
a mattress.

	The next morning I started out to find my way to this Northridge place
and then run down Doctor-Doctor Philo Plankton, whose address I had thanks to
the professor I talked to at the Wellington Wadsworth School of Animal
Husbandry. I remember that he had told me to say "Brando sent me" to the good
doctor, which was a private joke these two shared. It was approximately 25 miles
as the crow flies between where I was and where he was. So I hopped aboard one
of those large diesel spewing city buses and started out on my great adventure.
Three and a half hours and four transfers later I found myself some two miles
walking distance from Dr. Plankton's place. Had my wits been about me I would
have saved money by walking, except as it turned out, in many areas of this city
there were no sidewalks, another amazing fact about La-La land.

	Finally after a few missteps that involved two separate incidents with
stray dogs as well as a number of near misses as I ventured to cross the dreaded
PED Xs, which seemed to incite motorists into a frenzy, I arrived at my
destination, the home of Dr. Philo Plankton, a modern Renaissance man I was to
learn. He occupied a white three story building that resembled an Italian villa,
like the ones I saw in the travel magazines that I'd leaf through as I waited
for Rhonda to see her doctor, a process that usually was quite lengthy, but
never failed to immediately cure her of whatever was ailing her.I sometimes
wondered what kind of procedure the good doctor employed, but that was a matter
that was forever shrouded in secrecy, at least to me, her long suffering
husband.

	Finding this place was one thing, gaining admittance was another matter
altogether. This building was located behind a high fence the top of which was
guarded with razor wire, which seemed a little out of place considering the
surroundings. It was the only house in one of those dead-end streets that the
locals referred to as "cul-de-sacs", that's french for dead-end streets. Parked
in the circular area around the front of the "faux villa", that's also french
for fake villa, was a variety of expensive automobiles and these truck-like
abortions on wheels known as SUVs. It was fairly apparent that Philo's guests
were eating pretty high on the hog.

	As I walked back and forth in front of the gate to this house, trying to
figure out what I had to do to communicate with whoever was hiding behind that
gate, I noticed that I was being tracked by a camera located in one of the rolls
of razor wire. This was a new one on me; I'd once seen a camera like this at a
bank once, so I was not intimidated too much by its presence. I tried waving at
it in hopes of getting whoever was watching to respond to my greeting. When that
yielded no reaction, I approached the gate and noticed what looked like a
speaker box sitting just inside that metal barrier. Having exhausted my limited
course of action I decided to see what might occur if I spoke into this
contrivance. On a whim I said to the machine, "Brando sent me."

	I cooled my heels for a good ten minutes, despite repeating my message a
number of times. Then just as I was about to take my leave and find a place to
eat some lunch, a voice boomed from the box telling me to step away from the
gate and when it opened to take the driveway up to the parking lot and then make
a left. Now why I had to go to the parking lot was something I did not
understand, but I complied since it was his house and therefore his rules. I
finally arrived at the entrance to his house and was ushered in by a large
taciturn fellow who wasn't much on conversation, providing hand signals and
grunts as a means to guide me to the large airy room where Philo Plankton
awaited me.


				
				(To be continued)

					Livin' In the Country


					    Chapter 15


	The best way to describe my host was that he looked like an elf on
steroids. I could not help making that connection once I took in his pointy
ears, impish blue-gray eyes and round smooth face that seemed to blend into his
round smooth head. He had this sardonic smile plastered on his kisser, as he
looked me up and down. Then he rose and stuck out his hand, which did not match
the rest of his body at all. It was large for a man of his size with long,
tapering fingers that might have belonged to a concert pianist or some such type
of person. His grip was surprisingly strong and his skin felt dry as dust. As he
pumped my hand in welcome he asked how old Jimbo was doing these days, referring
to the good professor who had sent me on this journey. I replied that he was
well and happy at the Wellington Wadsworth School of Animal Husbandry, and he
roared with laughter so hard that his shoulders shook.

	"Damn if that old sheep fucker hasn't found himself the perfect job!" he
exclaimed as he slapped his leg. "He and I used to have some good times together
when we were at medical school. That good old boy would fuck anything that he
could get his hands on; nurses, patients, friends of the patients, teens to
grandmothers, if it came within range he nailed them. But he really reserved his
true affections for the animal kingdom. He claimed that he never had to say that
he was sorry for anything he ever did to or with them. They just took him for
what he was and they never pestered him about staying out late or not telling
them that he loved them."

	I just stood there catching flies with my open mouth as Philo Plankton
went on and on about his dear old buddy from medical school. Then he seemed to
switch himself off and those eyes became two lasers as he took a real good look
at yours truly. "What brings you out to this wicked land my rustic friend? Don't
tell me you want to get into the movies or some such thing. I get more people
tramping through here trying to convince me that they could be the next John C
Holmes or Linda Lovelace." He kind of looked off into space after he said that,
making me feel as if I was one small step away from being shown the door.

	Those names did ring a bell with me. I must admit to having a hankering
now and then to watch one of those old porn tapes. You know the ones, they were
usually grainy and the color was sometimes so bad that people looked green or
worse. I remember being dazzled by the sight of this young woman, with what
looked like an Afro hairdo, swallowing this fella's tallywacker without so much
as batting one of her fake eyelashes. As for the aforementioned Mr. Holmes,
seeing his angry member in the pink, so to speak, gave me an inferiority complex
that has never completly gone away despite my occasional success in the eternal
struggle against the other sex.

	The fear that my foray into this strange land had been in vain spurred
me to speech. I began to blather about DNA and how the good professor Jimbo had
directed me to his old friend and expert in the field of DNA research, Philo
Plankton, so that he might assist me in my quest for truth when it came to who
was related to whom, in my family. I have no idea when I lapsed into incoherent
speech, but my carryings-on seemed to amuse him no end. His lasers went back
behind their shields and his eyes started to dance and flicker as he continued
to suffer my foolishness. It was at this point that she entered the room and I
completely lost the power of speech.

	Standing in the entrance way behind my host was a vision of loveliness
and pulchritude the likes of which these eyes had never been exposed to. She was
attired, if that be the proper word, in an outfit that displayed her
considerable charms in a most unique way. I started to survey this living fuck
fantasy starting at her dainty feet. These delightful digits were encased in a
pair of stiletto heels, so high that they caused her to teeter as she stood
there, waiting to be recognized by my host. My eyes crawled up one of the most
shapely pair of legs that had ever been attached to a woman's torso. They were
like two columns of creamy vanilla ice cream and the temptation to start at
those dainty feet and lick every square inch of those perfect legs was damn near
overwhelming.

	Beyond lay the plumpest, most perfect pussy that a man could imagine.
Her slit was defined by twin mounds of buttery flesh that guarded that entrance
to the promised land that every man dreamed of broaching. I doubted that even a
dime was thin enough to pass through that coin slot of a cunt. Framing this
whirlpool that threatened to suck the eyes from my head was one of those frilly
peach colored garter belt things that served no other function than to focus
one's attention on that perfect pussy.

	To this observer this little accent piece made her nudity even more
nude, if such a description makes sense. Surely it worked for me. Everything
else in the room had ceased to exist as far as this viewer was concerned. Philo
Plankton could have burst into flame and I would not have noticed. My dear,
unfaithful wife, Rhonda, could have teleported into this room and I would not
have noticed. The president of these United States of America could have
appeared and stood on his head spitting wooden nickels and I would not have
noticed. I continued my reconnaisance, another one of those damned French words,
and espied her navel, proof positive that this goddess had not sprung full born
from the sea or any of that kind of mythological nonsense. Buried within this
symbol of her humanity winked a small jewel that had somehow become embedded
within that glorious indentation in her most perfect flesh.

	I reconnoitered further and traveled over the gentle swell of flesh that
outlined her midriff. It was perfectly rounded, neither marred by excess or the
tightening that can be caused by over zealous use of the muscles. In my mind's
eye my tongue was moving over the gentle slope of her belly sampling the texture
and taste of her flesh. Then her breasts came into view and I was almost moved
to tears.

	They sprang from her chest like twin torpedoes, displaying a firmness
and resilience that took my breath away. I could watch this gorgeous creature
breathe for hours, observing those bountiful bundles of skin, muscle and fat
working as one as they rose and fell showing no signs that gravity existed. The
nipples on these wonders were pinkish and plump, perfect for an afternoon of
nuzzling and nibbling. Surrounding them was a sea of pebbled skin somewhat
darker in hue, a perfect contrast to the stiff nubbins that were reacting to the
coolness of the room. As in the case of her pussy, these too were showcased by a
few strands of elastic and sheer material that cupped and presented these
wonders for all to see and enjoy.

	Her face was a chiseled thing of symmetrical perfection; the eyes set
wide apart and blue as the sea around Naples. Her nose was perfectly centered
with the kind of smooth lines and geometrical precision that could be found in
perhaps one woman in ten thousand. Her lips were two lines of ripe, curving
flesh verging on being ever so close to pouty, a condition that no collagen
injection could ever create. Her flawless skin arched over a set of cheekbones
that almost any woman would kill for. Then there was her hair; bouncing, spun
gold that tickled her perfectly proportioned ears and spread like a cloud of
sunlight across her shoulders. Then this wondrous creature spoke and utterly
ruined one of the best moments of my sorry life.

	She spoke in some strange dialect that I initially had much trouble
understanding. To make matters worse her speech was further handicapped by a
large metal stud penetrating her tongue. Philo seemed to have no difficulty in
communicating with her. After a brief exchange having to do with her "audition"
for a part in Philo's latest porn epic, Bimbos from Outer Space, she brightened
considerably at having gotten the part and turned to depart, giving me a view of
her astounding ass.

	Philo remembered his manners at that point and introduced this creature
to me as Pandora Box, a name he had manufactured for this airhead who was to
have a speaking part in his movie, except it wasn't a movie, since the advent of
the VCR had ended movies as the major outlet for porn. I was stunned by this
revelation that Philo Plankton, man for all seasons and man for all reasons was
a producer of smut, which now explained his proximity to the adult industry's
center for production. I was standing at ground zero and feeling none the worse
for wear.

	He must have sensed my surprise and the fact that I was now somewhat ill
at ease. He made an effort to relieve my anxieties by offering me the
opportunity to "bang Box's box" if I so chose. I was sorely tempted, but
declined his magnanimous offer with thanks. The thought of swapping spit with a
person with a large stud through her tongue, not to mention the propect of
having said stud contacting my sex organ while she gave me one of those
professional porn star blowjobs was equally off-putting. Besides I was here on a
mission, to discover from this man whether or not my former life was fradulent.

	Despite my efforts to return our conversation to the matter of DNA and
its ramifications, he would have none of it. Instead he asked me to accompany
him to his auditioning room located on a wing of the second floor, far removed
from the normal traffic patterns in the villa. I nearly wet my pants when we
entered this floodlit place bustling with activity, all of it seeming to center
on the three small stages where naked men and women were cavorting.

	Now as you all know, I have done lots of cavorting in my time and a most
enjoyable way of life it is. However these people had taken things to an
entirely different level. On one of these little stages a rather well
upholstered blonde girl with dark roots and a loud voice was screaming at the
top of her lungs for her three partners to "fuck me harder, harder, I can't feel
you!" I was amazed at how a girl with three large cocks, one in her shaved and
ringed pussy and a pair sharing her asshole, could be making such outrageous
remarks.I looked around to see one rather bored individual operating a small
hand-held video camera while another older gentleman took pictures of the
quartet as they rutted and fought for possession of the bed they were occupying.

	I looked over at Philo who was staring fixedly at what was going on,
occasionally mumbling something into a little device he held in his hand. He
pointed at one of the males attempting to quiet the "faux" blonde girl and made
a fist. The quartet immediately broke ranks and reconfigured themselves. The
blonde was now on her back, arms outspread, palms flat to the soaked sheets. One
of her partners was straddling her and sliding his large cock between her sweaty
tits, bumping up against her mouth with each stroke. The second had lifted her
legs so that they were supported by his shoulders and he was drilling for oil in
her butthole. The third fella managed to work himself into a position that
allowed him to begin filling the blonde's cunt with first his fingers, and then
the thumb. It was a bravura performance considering all that was occurring
around him. I watched, transfixed, as he made half his arm disappear up that
sweaty blonde's moneymaker as his two companions continued to play in her
furrows. Philo leaned over and whispered to me that this kind of stuff was
strictly for foreign consumption since the good folk in the good old US of A
didn't much cotton to this kind of activity. I bit my tongue and let that remark
slide since I was his guest.

	Philo moved over to another stage and I dutifully followed, being
careful not to trip over the miles of electrical cabling that seemed to run in
every possible direction. On this lauching pad, which is what the techs called
the beds used by the porn stars, there were a pair of sort of skinny blondes,
(that hair color seemed to be quite popular in the world of porn), taking turns
like giant leeches on the stiff member of this bored looking guy who was staring
off at the ceiling, probably wondering what in the hell he was doing here. As
they played hide the salami with their mouths, (both of these teen charmers had
studs in their tongues), I took a closer look at the lovelies and determined
that they might be related by blood. Philo leaned over and confirmed my thought,
observing that twins were the hottest thing in porn these days and every
production company wanted to have its own set on the payroll, the younger the
better, so long as they could produce evidence that they had achieved their
majority, which in this business was pegged at eighteen.

	We moved to the third stage where I espied the beautous Pandora Box,
tastefully attired in a shelf bra and a big smile, being pummeled fore and aft
by these two large black men who were wearing some kind of aluminum head gear
that gave them an unworldly appearance. They sort of reminded me of a couple of
super-sized versions of the blind engineer from Star Trek. There were two fellas
with cameras taking pictures a mile a minute as the trio moved smoothly from one
impossible position to another. Philo explained to me that the aforementioned
Pandora Box was posing for one of the panels that would make up the box cover
for Bimbos from Outer Space. He also proudly observed that not only did he
produce this one, he would also direct and edit it as well as being responsible
for its casting, musical score and special effects. Indeed Philo Plankton was
one of the giants of porn and this display of his myriad talents was his
crowning moment. He didn't exactly say it that way, but I sort of picked up that
this was what his comments boiled down to.

	Philo offered me some lunch and since it had already been a spell since
I had partaken of any food, I took him up on it. I was truly amazed when we took
some stairs and walked out onto a deck that jutted over the back portion of his
property. There was a buffet set up, manned by two ladies in their underwear,
who Philo introduced me to as Trixie Twist, the star of Bimbos from Outer Space,
and her lovely companion, Bambi Barnes, an up and coming, in more ways than one,
porn starlet who was in the process of making her fourth video since she began
her career earlier in the week. We helped ourselves to a mountain of food and
headed down to his study for some serious eating and talking.

	I was soon filled to the gunnels and accepted my host's gracious offer
of some sippin' whiskey to help things settle down. It had been an amazing day
and there was more to follow. We started swapping stories, but after a round or
so I just sat back with my whiskey and listened to this astronaut turned porn
producer regale me with portions of his life story. Philo Plankton had been born
and raised on a farm in Kansas. For some unearthly reason he discovered he had
this uncanny ability to remember things. It went a little further when he
realized he had an easy time figuring out how things went together and came
apart. This stood him in good stead with his dad, who had an ancient collection
of farm machinery that seemed always in need of repair. By the time Philo was
fifteen, that stuff had been modified by him to the point that his dad now owned
equipment that was well beyond the state of the art and seemed never to need
anything except some oil and a unique fuel that Philo had whipped up out of
fermenting corn and a few other ingredients only known to himself.

	His special talents allowed him to win a full scholarship to the local
university where he finished the first of his many degrees in less than two
years, graduating summa cum something, in engineering.(Latin is not one of my
favorite languages, perhaps because it is dead.) This in turn led to a
fellowship that paved the way for his first PhD, a study of the effects of the
space environment on the behavior of certain mechanical devices. At that point
my head was spinning. By the time my host was twenty-one he was working at the
Johnson Space Center in Houston for NASA. He got bored with things there and
took a NASA fellowship to get a doctorate in Space Medicine, also becoming a
pretty fair surgeon during that period of time. Dr. Plankton, he now considered
himself to be worthy of the title since he now had a medical degree and was a
qualified surgeon, was now ready for something worth sinking his teeth into, and
that was to become an astronaut.

	Blessed with a healthy body, free from disease and possessing the
credentials that attracted NASA attention, to wit a number of PhDs in space
applications and the like and a medical degree as well, Philo Plankton was
selected for astronaut training. This proved to be a lengthy process that
dragged on for nearly six years before he was assigned to his first flight, STS
31, a six day jaunt around the planet, taking reams of data while avoiding the
globules of puke and such that floated along with him and his compatriots. Zero
graviy took some getting used to, but after a few days of queasiness he adapted
to this strange environment and was thriving when they made their reentry into
the world of gravity and all it implied.

	His second flight came three years later, STS 44, which was the first
mission that included a woman. To wile away the nine years he spent waiting to
go into space Philo picked up another three PhDs, wrote a couple of books and
published some three dozen technical papers on the subject of outer space. He
also picked up a strong interest in the opposite sex, especially upon his return
after his initial foray into space. In those days women were the low fruit on
the trees for any single astronaut worth his collective salt and many others who
claimed to be happily married.

	It was then that Philo Plankton leaned forward, his hands on his knees
and a big shit-eating grin plastered across his face. Then he spoke in a voice
that was soft, almost difficult to hear, swearing me to secrecy concerning what
he was about to reveal. I could do nothing but nod my head, I was so taken by
his presence. "My rustic friend, I like you, don't ask why, but I do. So I am
about to tell you what it feels like to be the first American to have
intercourse in outer space, and how that little escapade became my epiphany,
leading to this  current situation.


				
                                 (To be continued)

					Livin' In the Country


					    Chapter 16


	I settled back, took a small sip of this fine amber colored whiskey that
had a kick like a Missouri mule, and listened to his amazing story. It seemed he
met this woman, who was to be his partner in this epic escapade, while they were
training together for their mission, which involved studying the aurora borealis
among other manifestations of the sun's presence on the earth's protective
plasma shield. Her name at the time was Molly Daniels, and she immediately
became MD, the doctor, to the crew. To show that there were no hard feelings in
this matter, Philo invited Molly out to dinner. Dinner turned into a very
satisfying romp in the hay, or what passed for it in Houston.

	Molly was a country girl, born in Arkansas, who decided at a very young
age that she wanted to go into outer space. So roughly twenty-five years after
making this momentous decision she was on the verge of having it fulfilled. She
had given up a lot to achieve her aim, including some pretty good men who had
the right stuff when it came to scratching her itches, which were considerable.
She and Philo hit it off from the get-go and became very good fuck buddies.
Molly knew plenty of tricks that they never taught her in flight training or at
school and she put them to good use while she and Philo mussed the sheets in
some of the finest motels in the Texas and Florida areas.

	It was during one of these little trysts in a place called Heavenly
Rest, an adult motel featuring all the good stuff including mirrors on the
ceiling, a king-sized playpen and eight channels showing only the finest in
salacious material, that the two of them hatched their plan to become the first
couple from the USA to fuck in outer space. At the time there were strong rumors
floating around that the Eagle had done more than just taken photographs from
orbit when he was teamed with Titania Borski, the first woman to fly in space.
It was kind of believable because the Russian space program seemed to be family
oriented in some respects. Perhaps they were already in the planning stages for
the post nuclear war era when population growth would be critical.

	What started out as a secret between the two conspirators grew to
include their fellow crewmen, all of whom at one time or another had enjoyed the
charms of the doctor, or jolly Molly as she was known to her bedmates. That
woman was of average looks and her body, though well maintained, was not exactly
in the porn starlet class. However what she may have lacked in appearance, she
more than compensated for with some astounding tricks such as her famous triple
tongue blowjob and her backwards version of around the world in the prone
position that morphed somehow into a tuck maneuver that left her partners in
such a contorted state that they described the experience as like being
swallowed whole by a sex-crazed anaconda.

	In fact the patch that the crew of STS 44 designed and wore sewed to
their flight suits, contained a tiny drawing that most people misinterpreted as
the caduceus, the symbol for the medical profession, but in actuality it was a
tribute to the couple who were about to make space history of a sort. Once
everybody was on board when it came to knowing about what was to transpire in
low earth orbit, their training took over.

	This little adventure, now dubbed PC&U, which stood for Personal Contact
and Unification, was now informally part of their mission time line. PC&U also
included the proposed maneuvers that would take place during both the Contact
and the Unification phase of this operation. It is likely that a similar
scenario had been developed for the Eagle and Titania, but it was quite unlikely
that their plan was as complicated and potentially enjoyable as the one designed
by the crew of STS 44.

	It was an uneventful ride from the launch pad to their designated orbit,
if such a miraculous journey could ever be described in such mundane terms. Once
they took up housekeeping and got things squared away it was asses and elbows
for the first couple of earth days. The crew had arranged things so that on the
third day Molly and Philo would be taking the same sleep shift, one that would
place the craft in darkness for periods of up to forty-five minutes as it made
its rounds about the planet. This was a brilliant idea that Philo had. He
arranged the crew's task load so that they would be observing plasma phenomena
during that period, which required that the lighting in the Shuttle be lowered
to emergency levels. In this way entrance and egress from the area of the head
could occur without those folks in Houston being any the wiser. They planned for
a preliminary test run to make sure that all systems were go for the real event
planned for the following day, or was it night. In orbit the solar days went by
as fast as a good old boy driving a tricked-up Chevy at Talladega.

	The only place on the Shuttle that offered anything resembling privacy
was the head, a mechanical contrivance designed by some of the best engineering
minds in the country with one basic function, namely the containment of both
liquid and solid wastes emanating from the crew. The prospect of urine and feces
joining the occasional chunks of vomit that usually floated around the crew's
quarters on any given flight was just too horrible a public relations fiasco for
the boys in Houston to handle. This was the only area of the crew's quarters
that was free from the peeping toms at Mission Control. This was now especially
true with the advent of women astronauts. Some dunderhead at NASA had proposed
calling them astronettes, but was quickly reassigned to a desk job in the
Stennis Center down in the swamps of Mississippi before he could do any more
damage to the Agency's image.

	Getting around the monitoring equipment that was installed into each
crew member was another problem altogether. Naturally Philo came up with a
scheme to get around that difficulty as well. He traced the circuits and found
the one which sent that particular data stream down to the folks waiting to
interprete it. So when he and jolly Molly actually attempted the deed, that
circuit conveniently failed until such time as they recovered from their indoor
space walk. The dry run, and it was indeed a dry run, unearthed some problems
that had not been foreseen. It seemed that blood flow in zero gravity was an
entirely different matter than on terra firma. This made gaining the necessary
rigidity to carry off America's first fuck in space problematic until Molly
resorted to her famous triple tongue blow job which provided enough stimulation
and pressure differential to achieve the proper structural integrity to allow
the project to go forward.

	Thus the PC&U experiment went off right on schedule as the rest of the
crew kept busy looking out the windows at the aurora and other assorted plasma
phenomena while history of a sort was made behind the special NASA opaque
curtain that had been designed, redesigned and finally accepted by NASA six
months late and one point eight million dollars overrun. At this point in the
story Philo took a long pull from his whiskey and heaved a great sigh. Reliving
that monumental event was getting to him, that much was obvious.

	Well the day arrived and Molly and Philo disappeared behind that
expensive curtain and spent the first few minutes disrobing and attempting a
docking maneuver. On their second try it was all systems locked and loaded; now
it was time for opening the hatches on both sides and transferring personnel
from one craft to the other. It took quite a bit of time to equalize the
pressure differential, but at long last, thanks to the yeoman-like efforts of
jolly Molly, the two craft were functioning as a single entity. What happened
next is the stuff of legends. They commenced a slow barrel roll that turned into
a loop the loop, all the while swapping bodily fluids. At the moment of ignition
and blasting off they found themselves in an upside down position relative to
the floor of the spacecraft. Millions upon millions of minute, blind tadpoles
began a journey that was fraught with peril since there was no gravity to assist
their movement towards the promised land.

	Separation was not as smooth as planned. A significant portion of the
transmitted material leaked from the mother spacecraft and presented a
challenging environment for the crew during the next two days. Fortunately jolly
Molly was able to collect a great deal of the flotsam, (it should be observed
that in zero gravity everything is considered to be flotsam) and dispose of it
in a most inobtrusive way during the periods of darkness mandated by the space
plasma studies.

	The reentry phase of the mission went flawlessly and STS 44 came to rest
in Florida as planned. The initial debriefing went according to plan as did the
flight operations review. NASA had a thing for reviews, in fact one wag once
suggested that there be a review of the reviews being considered for any large
project. This little joke reached up to the highest levels at Headquarters
before being sent back for further review. Three weeks after landing, both Dr.
Philo Plankton and Molly Daniels tendered their resignations to NASA and
disappeared from public view; Philo to seek his destiny as the producer of high
class smut and Molly deciding to become a member of the Born Again Space People
cult.

	The cult held a rather novel view that claimed the perfect master would
be created as the result of a union in outer space between a pair of earthlings.
Molly thought herself to be the mother of that perfect master, but alas, her
birth control pills won out over the lack of gravity and she remains barren
until this day. However this state is not due to her lack of trying. Molly has
gone through three husbands, numerous close friends and countless one night
stands in her quest for motherhood. To this day she continues to reguarly
contact Philo in hopes that some way may be found to have them once more make
that special barrel roll, loop the loop and upside down ignition which she
firmly believes must occur to create the perfect master. The best that Philo has
offered to date was a position as one of the company fluffers, which she
continues to decline with thanks.

	This amazing story had my head in a whirl. I could not help inquiring as
to how he went from an astronaut without a job to the head of E Cubed
Productions, the Es standing for Extreme Erotic Enterprises. According to Philo,
his little production company was worth somewhere in the vicinity of one hundred
and forty million dollars, a monument to hard work and effort coupled with a
cynical knowledge of what type of smut that segment of the population who were
addicted to porn liked.

	It seems that during the nine years he hung around waiting to sit on top
of a gigantic roman candle designed and built by the lowest bidder, he invested
much of his modest income in the stock market. Like everything else that he did,
he was wildly successful with his own method of picking and choosing stocks. It
seems he purchased three chimps and every morning before the market opened he
gave these seers the entire listings of every stock and bond market available
for playing. Their selections were unerring when compared to the recommendations
of the experts. By the time he left NASA his little nest egg was worth upwards
of three million dollars after taxes. It was this sum that started him in the
porn business.

	Philo suggested that I stay around and give him a hand in the production
of Bimbos from Outer Space. It took me about half a second to accept his
generous offer of room and board plus a modest stipend and access to the hottest
ladies this side of the Cybil Brand Institute. Said institute being the place
where the true professional hookers often were sequestered when they failed to
pay tribute to local law enforcement, or had the misfortune to be in the wrong
place at the wrong time with the wrong john. However there was one condition
that I insisted he observe in exchange for my services and loyalty, to wit his
promise to answer my queries concerning the use of DNA to discover my true
family tree. That matter settled, I embarked on a truly epic adventure.

	I quickly learned that being in the porn business was a lot of hard
work. I started at the bottom of the totem pole, handing out towels to the sweat
soaked actors and actresses who labored mightily beneath the hot klieg lights as
the director, in this case Philo Plankton, mercilessly demanded every drop of
bodily fluids that could be extracted from their bodies. I rose in the ranks,
soon becoming the man responsible for making sure that there was sufficient
quantities of lubricant, four types in all, douching solutions and disposeable
enemas that were required by the talent, as Philo called those playing a part in
this porn masterpiece. I soon became the confidant of many a disgruntled porn
starlet or actor who was just waiting for the right break to escape this seedy
business. I also made some acquaintances with the fellas working behind the
scenes with the lighting, sound and set building that was required by the
script.

	This epic had a big cast; eight folks in all, equally divided. Besides
Trixie Twist and Pandora Box, two other seasoned professionals had speaking and
fucking parts. There was Juci Ju, an Asian girl with a set of enhanced boobs who
at the tender age of twenty-two had over one hundred videos to her credit during
the past year and a half. Juci was a graduate of one of the local colleges who
decided that taking off her clothing and taking large members up her asshole
paid a whole lot better than a starting salary at some large impersonal
corporation. 

	The other girl was Erotique, a slim  black beauty, actually cocoa would
be more descriptive of her skin coloring, who had been out of porn for about a
year and this was her first shoot since she ended her retirement. It turned out
that her live-in boyfriend had just been sent away for a couple of years and she
needed to build up some kind of a nest egg until she could land another
boyfriend who would take care of her in exchange for access to her private
parts, which as private parts went, were pretty damn impressive. I'd seen enough
porn pussy in the last week to have become a good judge of this feature. She and
I made eye contact on a number of occasions during the two days that it took
Philo to shoot the scenes she was in, but nothing came of it, even when I had
the opportunity to wipe up a large amount of cum that had been injected into her
fore and aft hatches by the same two black men that had been posing with the
beautiful but brain-dead Pandora Box.

	For two weeks straight we put in eighteen hour days. Naturally this gave
me very little time to discuss anything of consequence with Philo who seemed
obsessed by the need to bring this tape in under budget and on schedule. Once
shooting ended I figured we'd have some time to discuss DNA and other associated
topics. That's when I discovered that shooting was only one part of the deal,
editing was equally important. Now Philo sat for hours on end in front of a
large monitor and went over every frame that he'd shot during the past two
weeks. It took almost three weeks before he finally came up for air, and by then
I had become entangled with a number of loose women who frequented the villa
while they made various and sundry videos with such interesting titles as
"Spermaholics Anonymous", "Twisted Teen Teasers", and "Addicted to Bungholes".

	Miracle of miracles, I rose  still further in the hierarchy of porn and
became a stunt cock. This occurred one day when a director, who went by the name
of Steve Spellburg, desperately needed an additional cock in order to finish his
project involving numerous unknown porn wannabes sucking off phantom cocks and
either taking the load in the kisser or down the throat after swishing it around
in her mouth and even gargling with it before swallowing. Those capable of
making these more sophisticated maneuvers were likely to advance to the next
level, which meant getting scale for such items as straight, anal, double vag,
ass to mouth, DPs, group sex, even gangbangs, plus anything else the director
could dream up for them to do.

	I worked with a tattooed teen with braids, braces, and nipple rings. I
was ordered under pain of death to hold back for at least eight minutes before
splattering my loving sex partner with about three weeks worth of cum. "If you
think you're gonna cum early, think about dead puppies, it always works." he
told me before disappearing behind the video camera. They had set up a clock off
stage so I could keep track of the time as this airhead proceeded to swallow my
organ whole and then spit it out so she could repeat the process. Midway through
our scene she started spitting on the head which I found rather uncomfortable.
After all, my cock had been in some very nice places during its time and it
deserved more respect than that. Finally the eight minutes were up and I got my
revenge, burying her face with a blast that not only got her in the eyes, but
left a streak in her short fire engine red hair. The director was ecstatic over
my performance and promised to use me in another epic that he was working on as
soon as it got the go-ahead from Philo.

	Now that I was officially a stunt cock, I was introduced to another
ritual essential for membership in this select fraternity or sorority. There was
some discussion concerning which organization the trannies should belong to, but
for E Cubed, this was a non-issue, so far that is. The following day after my
big debut, I was driven down to this little store front place in Hollywood. I
was accompanied by three other porn starlets, who I ignored because two were
hung over and the third one was of the lesbian persuasion. It was there, in this
large room filled with members of the profession, some agents, a producer or two
and a few harried technicians, that I made my first blood donation which would
determine if I qualified for membership or a death sentence.

	It was an HIV test, mandatory if you wanted to work in the professional
side of the industry. The amateur side of things attracted a different sort of
folk since they seemed to enjoy walking the tightrope without benefit of a net.
For some odd reason I was also singled out to provide a sperm sample, which I
managed to do with the assistance of one of my coworkers who manipulated my
organ until I managed to fill the specimen cup to overflowing while the
onlookers applauded and whistled.This was certainly a fun place to be around, or
so I thought.

	My mentor finally showed up one afternoon and invited me to sit down and
sip some whiskey while we caught up on things. I was rather busy at the time
toweling off one of the stars of "DP Blues" who had been triple penetrated on
and off for the last hour while the director,(one of the new breed who didn't
believe in preparing more than a rough outline of the action before the cameras
started whirring) fretted and shouted instructions that changed every thirty
seconds. Her three male partners in this disorganized tryst had taken refuge
from the hot lights and were rehydrating themselves as they talked into their
cell phones.

	Male porn stars are an odd lot. Some of them hate women and it shows on
the set. These are the chokers and slappers, a necessary evil in the current
world of porn. Others merely go through the motions, they've become so jaded
that fucking some great piece of ass is no longer a treat, just a chore. To a
man they are all on the latest and most powerful version of the original little
blue pill that supposedly revolutionized the older male's appreciation of things
sexual. These guys walk around with enormous hard-ons that last for hours.
Unfortunately there seems to be a trade-off between being able to sustain an
erection for hours on end and the ability to ejaculate on command. Watching some
leading man flog his dummy for minute after minute while his bored costar buffs
her nails, chews gum or checks her pussy for any signs of a rash is one of the
more tedious parts of working in the porn industry.

	I finally joined Philo in his den and we commenced sipping and talking;
actually I did most of the sipping and he did most of the talking. This was a
fine arrangement as far as I was concerned. My only problem was getting Philo to
talk about DNA. Today's sitdown was almost as educational and frustrating as our
first talk some five weeks ago. Despite all the fun I was having meeting some of
the strangest people that ever drew breath, I still felt a very strong pull from
the place where I had been born and raised. Philo began to break the ice by
telling me that he had some news about my problem, but before giving me all the
gory details, I had to listen to his explanation for how a former surgeon,
multiple PhD holder and astronaut could wind up making smut for a living. It was
a most enlightening hour or so that I spent in his company while he sort of
opened himself up to me.



					(To be continued)

				Livin' In the Country


				   Chapter 17


	It seems that Philo had been raised in a fairly normal family, which was
not intimidated at all by the subject or performance of sex, provided it was
done safely and lovingly. Unfortunately as he grew older and began to encounter
the world that existed beyond his family, he discovered to his amazement that
sex was something not to be discussed in polite society or for that matter even
acknowledged until one came of age. This coming of age thing really bothered the
hell out of him since no two people had the same idea of what this age was, and
what constituted "coming". Having been gifted with a high level of native
intelligence through some mutation that must have occurred many generations
previous, Philo managed to accommodate himself to this rather schizophrenic view
of things sexual. He merely ignored those "facts" that seemed to make no logical
sense, and did as he damn well pleased, using his family view of things as his
guideline.

	On occasion this did cause some trouble such as the time he and Jenny
Watson did a bit more than play doctor. Then there was the matter involving
himself and old Mrs.Longwell who had been a widow for some number of years, but
still remembered what it was like to have this warm bundle of manhood now and
then tapping her on the shoulder, especially in the dead of night, to suggest
that the two of them engage in a merging of the loins. Having never been with a
woman of her senior status, Philo jumped at the chance to further his education
in this vital matter. Things went very well for some months until a peeping tom
got a look at the two of them going at it, and blew the whistle. It was settled
out of court, shall we say, but Mrs.Longwell had to promise to avoid any social
contact with Philo until he reached his majority, which in his state was
eighteen.

	There were other events during his college days, his time at NASA and
the lengthy periods he spent gaining all manner of advanced degrees. Philo was
content with the accommodation between himself and the outside world when it
came to matters sexual. Then there was his epiphany in outer space, or
technically speaking, low earth orbit. Philo was proud of his achievement, damn
proud, but unfortunately he could not reap the benefits or accolades that might
have accrued to him in a more sane society, one not so enmeshed in the bonds of
the past that extended back to those sexually repressed souls who originally
settled this great nation.

	He, like most of his astronaut peers, had heard the stories of what
effect the moon had on some of those blessed with the opportunity to walk upon
this barren hunk of rock. However it came as a distinct surprise, or perhaps
shock would be more accurate, when  Philo Plankton had to face up to the fact
that having sex in outer space had affected him irrevocably. The rest, as they
say, is history. Philo was on a crusade to bring the rest of the country back
into something resembling a safe haven when it came to the issue of sex. He
hoped to do this through his company E-cubed. Unlike his peers in the smut
business, Philo had the energy, intelligence and financial clout to make things
happen. He was bound and determined to produce porn for cable. His stuff would
not be the vapid, teaser type that played in the early mornings, but full
contact, down and dirty sex for the masses boadcast in high fidelity sound
during prime time.

	The breadth of his vision was awe inspiring. However to me what he was
trying to accomplish already existed in many portions of this great land. It was
part and parcel of what living in the country was all about. I felt sorry that
the poor man had never gone back to his roots. Kansas was part of the country,
always was, always would be. It's just that folks didn't make a big, damned deal
about such things as sex out of wedlock and the like. It was merely accepted as
part of the development process, no big damned deal! I was hard pressed not to
tell my employer, friend and sometimes mentor this fact. I deferred however
since I realized he was too wrapped up in his own vision of what was right and
proper to take off his own blinders and take a good look at what was going on
around him.

	I was still ruminating on the little exposition he had just presented,
when he abruptly changed the conversation to address the reason that I had made 
this arduous trek to the strange world of the Left Coast. His opening remark
made little sense to me until he translated it into words that I could
understand. "I just got your test results back from the lab. I'm happy to tell
you that you're free of all sexually transmitted diseases that they normally
screen our actors and actresses for, and in addition you show no signs of any
type of HIV infection. In a word, you are clean and are authorized to perform as
required by your current employer, E-cubed. On the other issue I have to say
that the news is not as good. Your sperm count was well above average for a
person your age, but there is a motility issue. According to what I know of this
characteristic your condition has probably been with you since birth. I am truly
sorry to have to break this news to you like this, but the truth must be said."

	The word "motility" had no meaning for me. Was it some kind of a disease
I had? If so, was it fatal or debilitating? What did it have to do with whether
or not all those kids Rhonda kept having were mine or someone else's? My mind
was in a quandry, so I blurted out my fears for Philo to ponder. He gave me 
this halfway smile and those laser eyes lit up, preparing to perhaps zap me out
of my misery. "Your tadpoles can't swim, they can barely float." His words
continued to confound me. "What the hell do tadpoles have to do with this
motility you just mentioned?" I cried out in desperation. Philo shook his head
and looked at me as if I were the family pet; something to love and give love,
but dumb as a post.

	"Your sperm do not have the ability to swim upstream to reach the
woman's egg. Motility is just a fancy word for being able to move. Your sperm
don't swim, they barely float. It would take a major miracle for one of those
sinkers to somehow make it up Rhonda's birth canal and fasten itself to one of
her fertile eggs. Now I do have some ideas for a method by which we might be
able to artifically inseminate your wife with your sperm and in that manner
allow you two to become parents, but even that might be a long shot and I really
don't want to tear myself away from my next production. By the way, there is a
part for you in this one as a stunt cock. It's called "Sperm Splattered Sluts"
and you'd be perfect."

	My world began to whirl and I held out my empty glass towards Philo,
unable to speak. He understood and quickly refilled my glass with more of that
wonderful amber fluid that had the power to calm and even comfort those who
imbibed it in the proper spirit. I had much to ponder now. Rather than overload
my sorry self with even more concerns and options, I chose the bliss of
forgetfulness. The next morning I paid the price for my indiscretion, but at the
time it seemed like the right thing to do.

	Once I sobered up and got rid of the hangover, I resolved to take my
time about what to do with the information that Philo had given me. So to wile
away the time before things coalesced in my mind, I threw myself into supporting
Philo's latest production, the aforementioned "Sperm Splattered Sluts". Unlike
the last few videos he had turned out, this one was sort of lean on plot, but
fat, very fat with new faces and figures, all taking enormous amounts of the
white stuff all over those shiny new targets.

	Philo was planning a new, point of view (POV) approach that involved the
use of multiple cameras, slow motion and split screens that showed the money
shot from a variety of very interesting angles, including head-on. This latter
view was the product of his technical genius. It was a microcamera that fit
neatly within the hairdo, head band or whatever tiny area deemed necessary to
provide the full effect on the actress, also known as ground zero, taking a load
of cum from point blank range. In fact, "ground zero" and "point blank" had been
a couple of the titles that had been kicked around before it was decided that
they were a bit too pretentious for a video of this type.

	We were holding wet run auditions all over the building. It seemed that
almost every room contained a number of semi-naked young things on their knees
doing their level best to assist the stunt cock in producing sufficient
quantities of the white stuff to show off their ability to absorb the blast and
come away smiling as they licked the remnants from their kissers and tried to
look as if they had enjoyed it. I had to admit that looking as if one had just
enjoyed being buried in cum did take some acting skill.

	Late in the day I got my second chance to audition a sweet young thing.
My first target was a jaded high school dropout with enough tattoos to start her
own studio. She was a bit deficient in the tit department as well, and had to be
reminded to smile once she had sucked me to the point that I could finish the
task with a half dozen or so strokes while she waited, looking totally bored by
it all. I have no idea what her name was, but I do know that she was among the
group that were found  wanting for a role of this depth and complexity. I strode
into the tiny cubicle that  housed this latest debutante and ran smack into my
seatmate from Oklahoma, CC.

	At first Connie Cunny didn't recognize me. I had to, in a sense,
reintroduce myself to her and even then her reaction was less than what I had
expected. My inquiry concerning the health and well-being of Jake created a dark
look that slowly crossed her features. It seems that her helpmate from the bus
had used her badly and left once he had drained her of her financial resources
and she had turned down his offer to become her pimp in exchange for half her
earnings. Currently she was slinging hash at an all night diner and rooming with
another unfortunate such as herself who had come to La-La Land to make her
fortune, and failed miserably before she could even begin. This was her last
shot at fame and fortune before she gave up her dream and started saving up for
a bus ticket back to Oklahoma. She was astonished to discover that I had
succeeded in the very industry that she had set her mind on for the past five
years.

	I explained to CC what was expected of her, and she swiftly removed her
blouse and bra to reveal those magnificent mammaries, now dotted with what
looked to be burn marks overlaid by some major league bruises, both part of the
going away party that Jake threw for her. It lasted some two days and nights
during which she accommodated the needs of about two dozen gentlemen who had
paid Jake a finder's fee to introduce them to her. They introduced themselves to
every hole she possessed, and most of them did it more than once during that
marathon gangbang. To incentivize her to expend the energy required to show
these upstanding members of the male kingdom the best she had to offer, Jake
took to extinguishing his cigarettes on her tits and using them as punching bags
whenever her attention to her customers' needs flagged. That had taken place
three weeks ago. I felt truly sick over what had befallen this once bubbling
young lady with a dream. If truth be told, there was no way I could develop an
erection considering what I now knew about this unfortunate young woman.

	CC dutifully waited as I excused myself and sought out Philo to ask a
favor. It took some time to get his ear, but within a minute Philo added a new
member to his production staff, one Connie Cunny. I returned to where CC still
knelt, waiting for her chance to become gainfully employed in the industry she
had dreamed about working in for those many years. I had the happy task of
breaking the news to her that as of today she had been taken on as a member of
the production staff at E-cubed, an opportunity that many in the industry would
have killed for if given the chance. The look of bewilderment that came across
her face made me sad; the poor dear didn't even know that her ship had come in.
If she worked hard, who knows what position she might hold in a matter of
months. All one had to do was look at my meteoric rise to my current exalted
position as a stunt cock. It is interesting to finally realize, as I did at this
moment, that the very water you are swimming in has begun to pollute your being
to the point that your values have mutated into something monstrous.

	For the next week I immersed myself in the details of getting this
technically advanced porn video finished. I am proud to say that three of the
thirty-odd money shots were from yours truly. Even though I hadn't spent any
significant amount of time weighing the pros and cons of staying in La-La Land
or returning to that portion of the country where I had been born and raised, it
became apparent that my trek had borne fruit and it was now time to return to my
roots. I would go back to my home and hearth a better man, one who had some
scores to settle and ledgers to bring into balance.

	Philo did not act surprised when I informed him of my decision and
expressed my everlasting thanks for what he had done for me. He gave me a
knowing grin and a thumbs up sign. "Give em hell. Just remember when you get
back home to make sure that your life is what you want it to be, not some
compromise that will make you weak and easily managed by those around you. As
for myself, I'll continue my crusade to raise the level of consciousness of this
great nation concerning the power and benefits of being open to things sexual. I
know it will be a long struggle, but I'll enjoy every minute of it, because this
is what I was created to do. By the way I am acknowledging, in the credits, your
assistance in the production of "Sperm Splattered Sluts". If you leave your
address with my assistant, Ms. Cunny, I shall have a copy sent to you for your
edification and amusement. While I'm on the subject of Ms. Cunny, she is very
interested in meeting with you this evening to, as she puts it, deliver on an
unfulfilled promise. I know nothing more than that." From the twinkle in his
beady eyes I knew he was fibbing, but I forgave him for being human.

	My objective for my meeting with CC was to leave as friends, two people
from the country who had made the perilous journey to La-La Land and survived
the experience. Her agenda was a bit more ambitious, and being the gentleman
that I always thought I should be, I went along with her plans for the evening
and was a better man for it. Her outstanding tits were prominently displayed
courtesy of a shelf bra she had liberated from wardrobe. I was delighted to
observe that the cigarette burns and bruises were fading away, soon to be
nothing more than an unpleasant memory. Her matching bikinis framed her second
best feature which peeked out from the sheer covering that did nothing to shield
those twin mounds of pink that guarded her private place. I was transfixed by
this amazing display of firm youthful flesh and for a change was struck
speechless. The rest of our evening together will remain within our hearts and
minds as a wonderful keepsake, not to be exposed to the judgement of others.

	Suffice to say I had some wonderful memories to warm me as the bus
returned me to whence I had come some many weeks ago. In a sense it seemed as if
I had been away for half a lifetime, because I had learned so much about things
that did not exist in the world of the country folk. Always the class act, Philo
Plankton arranged for me to be driven to the bus stop in downtown La-La. So it
was that I completed the first portion of the circle that would be full once I
arrived back in the country. I would like to regale everyone with the stories
associated with my trip back across the nation's heartland, but there is little
to tell. I had various seatmates, both men and women, but none proved to be very
gregarious, all of them uniformly wrapped in their own thoughts and dreams. Then
late in the evening on the second day of the trip I returned to my place in the
universe and was at last happy and satisfied with my situation in this place. I
had put the time on the bus to good use. I now had a plan to right some wrongs
and bring order from the chaos that had nearly overwhelmed me. I could hardly
wait to get home and confront my faithless wife.


				Another Epilogue

	To those readers who indulged me as I wandered from the main path of the
story, my thanks. Be advised that henceforth I am returning my protagonist to
his roots and devil take the hindmost. Naturally he will have to reach some type
of accommodation with his faithless wife and her brood, none of whom are related
in any way to him. This is good and then again, not so good, but I'm sure it
will be entertaining as he deals with the female members of Rhonda's family.

	He also has the matter of settling the score with one Mimi Marlowe, who
will now come center stage, and not just for a few minutes either. First and
foremost is the issue of the arrangement she made to provide the Tolliver twins,
Terri and Traci, in exchange for the opportunity to use Marty and Marie. That
has been rather one-sided to this point, and will be rectified, you can be sure
of that. Then there is the matter of what's to become of Marty and Marie; that
will prove to be another element that comes front and center. Let's not forget
that May and Mabel also have to come correct. Add to this stew Mimi's harem, and
a few other characters that have been festering in my deranged mind, and you
have the recipe for many more interesting chapters of Livin' In the Country. So
hang on tight, and whatever you do, don't look down!

				Livin' In the Country


				     Chapter 18


	It took a lot longer than I had planned to walk from the bus depot to my
home in the woods, especially carrying my suitcase, which was crammed full of
souvenirs from my trip to La-La Land. It was a bit on the spooky side to
traverse territory that I was familiar with during the daylight hours, but
became a bit mysterious and even threatening at times when there was little
light to help one pick his way through the obstacles that one normally
encountered during the day. Then in the clearing I saw my home, the place where
this man was king, or soon would be once more, that was for damn sure!

	I made no effort to disguise my entrance, discovering that I needed my
key to gain entry. In normal times I kept the door unlocked to make exiting from
the place in the case of an emergency a whole hell of a lot easier. Naturally in
the country one never had to worry about anything entering unless it might be
the occasional foraging critter that usually meant no harm. Entering my darkened
domicile I stood quietly in the front room just listening to all the sounds
issuing from its occupants, most of them being located on the second floor.

	Things didn't seem to have changed much based on what my ears picked up. 
I could hear the rhythmic creaking of the bedsprings coming from Jack's room,
punctuated by an occasional moan that definitely sounded as if he was till
trying to nail Tammi to the mattress and she was enjoying the hell out of his
efforts. I wondered whether he was fucking his whole or half sister, then
mentally chastised myself for being the kind of asshole I disliked.

	Instead I should have been thinking about how to get into that little
cunt's pants as fast as possible. She was street legal, fourteen at least, and
definitely not related to me by blood. What more could a man ask for, if he was
hunting fresh, young pussy than one that was under his roof. The more I thought
about it, the better the idea became of telling Rhonda that in the future if she
wanted her darling daughter to be living under my roof, that little prick teaser
was going to have to start giving it up to the landlord, namely yours truly, on
a regular basis.

	The sound of a loud giggle followed by the hushing that could only be
coming from my dear, faithful wife, Rhonda, broke the spell I had cast over
myself. For a brief second I wanted to dash up those stairs, break down the door
of her, or should I say our, bedroom and throw the giggling SOB right through
the fucking window. Then I thought better of that idea since I realized that the
giggling was issuing from a female of the species. Maybe it was that bitch May,
already moving in on my territory and my possessions. Now the idea of going up
those stairs sounded better once more. I could just see the look on that fat
piece of crap's face as I pitched her flabby ass clean out the window. What a
rush!

	So with dreams of throwing two hundred pound plus women through the
bedroom window I drifted off into a very deep sleep that lasted well into the
morning. I awoke to the sound of little voices murmuring in the background. I
opened one eye to discover that I was surrounded by a bunch of little people
that I soon realized were the more recent members of Rhonda's brood. I tried to
shut my eyes and go back to sleep but my hopes were in vain. Then I heard the
sound of footsteps that could only be made by larger versions of the rug rats
that were laying seige to my person. I picked up the sound of a strangled gasp
that sounded female, but was not Rhonda. I took a peek and there in all her
corpulence stood my dear friend May. However what got my dander up was her
companion, a tall skinny drink of water who looked to be in his teens. I decided
to play possum in hopes of smoking Rhonda out into the open and discovering the
relationship between these three folks.

	I did not have long to wait, for waltzing down the stairs and giggling
to beat hell was my dear faithful wife Rhonda with her bare pussy exposed to the
world along with everything else attached to that big broad body of hers. "I do
have to admit that this young one can surely deliver the lumber. I swear I hear
squishing everytime I take a step. Damn, that cock of his hardly ever got soft
except for that time we double teamed his scrawny ass for the better part of a
couple of hours and never did give him a chance to recover until that pecker was
so limp you could tie a knot in it. I can hardly wait until his older brother
comes by and sees how much of his jumbo poker he can ram up my asshole in one
thrust...Oh my god, look what finally dragged his candy ass back home where it
belongs. It's about time!"

	I must admit that Rhonda's approach to covering her ass and everything
else she had was the only one that had a chance of working. In normal times I
might have let this little transgression slip in the interests of family
harmony, but knowing what I now knew I was about to cloud up and rain all over
her. I sat up, squinted at May and the kid and told them they had fifteen
seconds to clear the premises or face the consequences. May wasn't grinning any
longer now that she got a good look at my face.

	I did forget to mention that during the last month of my life at E-cubed
I grew a beard in order to fit in with most of the stunt cocks that were
currently doing their thing for Philo. I liked the evil look it gave me and so I
kept it as a souvenir of my visit to La-La Land.   As one of my "buds" so
succinctly described things, the balder the talent's pussies became, the thicker
we had to grow our facial hair in the interests of conserving matter and energy
and at the same time keeping the universe in its natural state of dynamic
equilibrium. Personally I didn't understand most of what he said, but I loved
the way he said it. I wonder what kind of a mind he might have if he stopped
loading it up with drugs, but such was the life in the porn business.

	When I got off the couch and made a move toward the pair, they backed
off and headed for the front door, leaving me alone with my faithless, lying,
cunt of a wife, who for one brief second teetered on the edge of major pain.
However I relented, perhaps because I was raised different or worse yet because
I had spent  too many years letting her have her own way. It had almost gotten
to the point that she was in command. I had proven to be a reluctant dragon when
it came to ruling the roost with the kind of iron hand that was absolutely
necessary to keep bitches like Rhonda from taking control.

	To her credit, Rhonda realized that she was dealing with a different
breed of cat and she had better be careful of what she said and did. She decided
to use some honey to calm me down. She suggested that she and I go back
upstairs, get naked and have a nice long getting to know you session featuring
plenty of pussy, asshole and if necessary an occasional blowjob for a nice
change of pace, to make sure things didn't get too routine for yours truly. I
must admit that old habits are hard to break . I was sorely tempted until I
recalled the giggling that came from her bedroom last night. Bad enough she was
cheating on me with May, but adding insult to injury by letting some callow
youth fuck her as well, was too much for this cowboy to take.

	"If you expect me to wallow around like some dumb boar hog in that mess
of a bed after your girlfriend May and that other galoot have ruined the sheets
and probably the mattress as well, you must think I'm dumb, crazy or both. What
I would suggest,and that's strictly a polite way of saying do it or else, is
that you drag your fat, sorry ass upstairs and clean up the mess the three of
you made here last night. I expect to see that mattress outside airing out
before I see hide or hair of your cheating ass! Then I want you to fix me
something to eat since I have some traveling to do today, and don't bother
asking who or what for, that's my damned business."

	I hitched a ride out towards the school house that was the headquarters
of one Mimi Marlowe. She and I had done some business a while back involving a
swap of two of my house guests, the incomparable micro-pussy known as Marie and
her wimpy masochist of a husband, Marty, for a number of weekends with the
Tolliver twins, Teri and Traci. Now more than ever it was imperative that I have
access to these twin paragons of feminine pulchritude. A swap is a swap, and as
far as this old country boy was concerned, Ms Marlowe had welshed on the deal.

	My arrival was fortuitously timed, as school was just letting out,
releasing a horde of sex crazed teens onto the countryside. The sap was running
strong in these young'uns, a sure sign that all was well with the world in this
neck of the woods. I took this opportunity to checkout the local talent, looking
for perhaps one or two young ladies who had that glint in their eyes which meant
they were attracted to those of my advanced age and hoped to exchange their
virtue for the wisdom and knowledge that I might choose to impart to them when I
wasn't invading their various orifices with fingers, tongue and hard cock. To my
delight I did make eye contact with one dark-haired, sweet young thing who
looked to be about fourteen, a fine age at which to begin her journey toward
total fulfillment or something closely akin to it.

	Making a mental note to follow up on this little lady at a later date, I
entered the school house and there she was, in the flesh, so to speak, Ms Mimi
Marlowe. She was paying close attention to the goings-on occurring a few feet
from her desk. There stood this skinny young fellow with his pecker hanging from
his trousers; well to be honest it wasn't hanging, it was more like poking due
to its stiffness. At the tip of his appendage was this pair of lips capturing
the head of his organ in a vise-like grip. Attached to those bee-stung lips was
a cute elfish face featuring freckles and a set of pale blue eyes. Framing this
was a halo of auburn hair feathering out at the sides. I immediately added this
vision to my list of things to be done at a later date.

	Ms Marlowe gave an angry glare at my temerity to disturb her as she did
some private tutoring. I realized that she did not recognize me through the
facial hair that now grew in abundance, covering my features. "It's me Ms
Marlowe, I've returned from my visit to La-La Land and you and I must speak
about the arrangement that we made concerning the use of the Tolliver twins as
well as your care and handling of Marty and Marie. I have little time for
politeness in this manner." Having said that I gave the two youngsters a look
that spoke volumes and gave a little nod of my head in the direction of the door
to the school house. They proved to be of good manners and were a tribute to
Mimi Marlowe's abilities as an educator, for almost immediately they
disappeared, leaving me and their teacher alone.

	Prior to returning from my epiphany of sorts on the Left Coast, I might
have wilted before the withering stare that this middle aged lady gave me. I had
witnessed its effect on a few folk and it was an impressive sight to behold.
However I was protected by the cloak of righteousness and it did not have any
influence on my resolve. Realizing that, she quickly switched gears and invited
me to stay for supper so we could discuss this matter in detail. I immediately
accepted, which set her back a bit. She made a serious blunder by invoking the
name of my faithless wife as if that would stop me from obtaining that which was
mine.

	When I replied that Rhonda no longer had any power over my comings or
goings her face grew a shade paler than normal. Then she broke into this smile
that I had never seen on that woman's face. I accepted it as a sign that she was
in her own way capitulating on this matter already. That just goes to show that
I still had not put all my new wisdom to proper use.

	We walked the quarter of a mile to her secluded and very comfortable
house. I'd been inside a few times for brief visits and had been most impressed
by her decorations and the furniture she had collected. I do remember that she
had a wing of the house closed off to visitors. It was in this wing that she
kept her real treasures such as the Tolliver twins, Teri and Traci, not to
mention Marty and Marie, I assumed, and perhaps  a few graduates from her school
for sex as most folk referred to that special set of classes she taught after
school to a very select group of students. I could not resist making small talk
about her special classes, hoping to draw her out a little and learn something
about the current state of affairs that might give me more ammunition for the
fight I knew was coming. She was rather noncommital with her replies to my
questions, indicating that there was some weakness in her defenses that she'd
rather I didn't know.

	She offered me some lemonade once we arrived and got settled in her
parlor. I gratefully accepted and while she bustled around within her kitchen I
took a good look at my surroundings. There was this large leather bound folio on
the desk by the window. I could not resist the temptation and so I went over to
it and opened to a random page. There, staring back out at me, was Marie the
micropussy wearing some kind of a leather contraption that started a few inches
above her shaved pussy and ended a few inches below her big jugs. I could not
help noticing that her nipples were heavily coated with some kind of cosmetic
that called attention to just how stiff and fat they were. Then I realized that
the same material had been applied to her cunt lips, which were just as plump
and dark as her nipples. Whatever that garment was that she was wearing, it made
her waist appear to be as narrow as a child's which wasn't too far from the
truth considering her size. I couldn't help licking my lips as I stared at this
vision of sexiness. I had never even got a chance for a sniff of that micropussy
thanks to Rhonda and that moronic son of hers, Jack the jerk-off. To think I had
traded her away for absolutely nothing brought my blood to near boiling.

	I was lost in thought to the point that I was unaware that Mimi Marlowe
had returned and was now standing less than a couple of feet from where I stood,
still leaning forward and lamenting over what might have been. When she spoke I
nearly jumped from my skin. "She's one of my best pupils, that one. It's hard to
keep up with the demand for her unique services. It's truly amazing how many men
have this child fetish and she's just perfect. She's small like a child and
she's got absolutely great tits and a pussy that's still tight as a toddler's
thanks to some corrective surgery I had her undergo recently."

	In an effort to recover from this disadvantage I asked if Marie was at
the house. Mimi gave me a knowing grin and shook her head. "No, she 's off on an
assignment in the next county. It seems that the patriarch of one of the larger
families in that neck of the woods is having his seventy-fifth birthday and
she's his birthday present. She'll be handling his every wish and whim until the
weekend when I shall pick her up and bring her back for some rest. You know how
those rustics can get, especially the old ones. I'm sure she'll be well worn by
the time I get there and just dying for some time to herself so the soreness can
be soothed and the swelling of her private parts can disappear. Then she'll be
ready to once again be put out for bids and believe you me, she has plenty of
followers already."

	Mimi offered me a glass of lemonade and had me settle myself down beside
her. I couldn't help but detect this musky aroma issuing from the teacher's
body. The next thing I knew, her hand was on my thigh, just resting there as if
my thigh was just another piece of furniture in this well appointed room. I
could not believe what was happening.  Could it be that I was about to be
seduced by the mysterious and powerful Ms Mimi Marlowe? Wouldn't that be
something for the books. I'm sure that if that did occur and I chose to share
this knowledge with others in the countryside they would lose all respect for my
honesty and mental well-being. I was in a quandry as to how to respond to this
not so subtle overture.

	I had a flashback to what I witnessed during the shindig I hosted. There
she was as naked as a jaybird, her every orifice tightly plugged by what seemed
like an army of sex maddened teens who treated her as if she was the queen bee.
What really stood out in my mental picture was the handcuffs she wore. How
confident of her sexuality and power could a woman of her age be than to allow
herself to be restrained in such a manner and then accept whatever her
assailants could do to her naked, helpless body? I remember being quite amazed
that she would dare to place herself in such a precarious situation, but here
she was, fit as a fiddle and doing her best to throw a net over my quivering
form.


			   	( To be continued)

				Livin' In the Country


				     Chapter 19


	Mimi Marlowe and I continued to make some small talk before I got down
to brass tacks, to wit, the arrangement she and I had made concerning swapping
the Tolliver twins for Marty and Marie. I quickly noticed the change in my
charming hostess. She looked at me through narrowed eyes and I could see the
muscle along her jaw tensing. I also noticed for the first time that Ms Marlowe
looked considerably younger since last I'd set eyes on her. As she casually
deflected my initial overture concerning our arrangement, her hand continued to
remain fixed to my thigh as if letting me know that my boorish behavior had not
yet annoyed her to the point that she felt it necessary to call in the heavy
artillery. She then proceeded to tell me a story that put me at a tremendous
disadvantage if it be proven true.

	"My dear man, we had an arrangement where both parties promised to do
certain things at certain times. I lived up to my part of that bargain, you
sir,did not! I personally delivered my darling twins to your home at the
appointed date and time. You were nowhere to be found. Had not your dear wife
extended her graciously hospitality, the twins and I would have been forced to
make the long trip back to my place, our part of the agreement unfulfilled. I
must say that the four of us had a wonderful time together and the girls had a
most enjoyable stay getting to know your wife in the biblical sense. Rhonda did
inform me that you had another engagement that appeared to take priority over
our arrangement. This did not sit well with me then, and it does not sit well
with me now."

	"Despite this serious breach of contract on your part I still felt duty
bound to make a second attempt to honor my commitment . For the second time you
insulted our agreement as well as me personally, by disappearing to fulfill
another "more pressing engagement" is the way that your long suffering wife
described your absence this time. Once more she reaped the benefits that you so
cavalierly discarded. I am aware that you were in contact with your wife while
the twins and I were visiting ,but you did not even have the common courtesy to
speak to me personally and provide whatever explanation you thought appropriate
to justify your lack of good manners."

	Had this been a prize fight, the referee would have stopped the bout at
this time and awarded both ears and my ass to the winner, if you'll forgive the
mixed metaphors or whatever the hell it is I just said. During her last salvo,
Ms Marlowe's hand had dug deep into my thigh from the passion that she felt. At
least that's what I presumed at the time. She then let loose another fusillade
of accusations in an attempt to finish me off. At this point I tried to make
some type of flanking movement before she totally overran my weakening position.
I made a botch of things, being unprepared to dredge up all the facts that would
be necessary to make some sort of an argument that I was just the innocent
victim of a vitriolic wife in league with a  discontented widow and her spinster
daughter. To be blunt, she squashed my attempt at a defense like it was a bug.

	"You have the unmitigated gall to sit here in my parlor, drinking my
lemonade, and telling me such prevarications that you must assume that I am
totally devoid of any shred of intelligence. Sir, I am disappointed with you,
very disappointed indeed! Despite your decidedly uncivil behavior I tried a
third time to honor our agreement, bringing my two charges to your home the
following weekend to discover that you had deserted home and family in the
pursuit of some strange pot of dross at the end of a rainbow that terminated in
a place of sin and sinners."

	" Shortly thereafter our arrangement was declared  null and void by the
right honorable Justice Rufus T. Firefly after he heard my case against you. You
sir, chose to ignore his subpoena, thus forfeiting your right to continue to
house and maintain Marty and Marie, who are now my semi-permanent guests and
employees. Now after nearly a two month absence you appear at the school,
unannounced, interrupting one of my after class instruction periods and
demanding to have your rights to the aforementioned Marty and Marie restored!
You must have contracted some disease on your trip that has affected your
ability to reason clearly. I must say that I do feel some sorrow over this loss
of sense that you are exhibiting, having secretly always held you in a higher
category than the typical folk living in this neck of the woods."

	I was struck dumb by this barrage of facts and events to which I was not
privy. This was devastating news. Coming on top of the revelation that I had
received from Philo Plankton, my brave new world was beginning to be reduced to
rubble. Without thinking, I slammed my fist down on Mimi Marlowe's hand, causing
her a bit of a fright, but not doing too much harm to her physically. Call it
intuition, or dumb luck, but my response to her version of the truth got her
attention and put her on the defensive for a brief moment.

	"Sir, what has gotten into you? Please sir, do not perpetrate any
violence on my person, I am doing nothing more than speaking the truth and
defending myself from your decidedly incorrect assumptions and accusations."
Reading between the lines it appeared that my outburst had taken some of the
starch out of the lady. Whatever it was , I was now in a position to make some
hay while the sun was shining. Don't ask why I said what I said, but damned if
it didn't stop her in her tracks.

	"I suppose I better turn tail and get out of here before you sic your
old friend sheriff Vlad on my sorry ass." No sooner were the words out of my
piehole then she slapped me soundly across the face and burst into tears. I
didn't know whether to shit or go blind, so I compromised, closing my eyes and
farting. It dawned on me that my remark about the sheriff had struck a nerve. I
remembered the story of how she had gained control of the Tolliver twins and
this individual was an integral part of the team that made it happen. Then it
hit me; what had Ms Marlowe given up in exchange for his support? All the rumors
had it that she swapped some of her pussy for the Tolliver twin's pussies, a
fairly equitable exchange under the circumstances. Perhaps there was a lot more
than just the exchange of bodily fluids between her and the sheriff. Now her
actions made a whole hell of a lot of sense.

	It is well known down in these parts that sheriff Vlad is one mean SOB.
He treated his first wife, Vicky, like she was dirt, whoring her out to build up
a nestegg that allowed him to have a nice house and all the other things that
came with the good life in these parts. Later when she got herself badly
crippled in some kind of an arrangement between Vlad and judge Kurtz involving
his daughter, Candi, he installed the former sergeant Kurtz in his place to
effectively take care of his crippled wife and become his live-in sex slave.
This situation was still in force to the best of my knowledge, although the
private life of the sheriff is not something that one could poke into, unless
they were looking to leave this earth in a pine box.

	Throwing caution to the winds, I opted to go on the offensive and let
the chips fall where they may. I grabbed her hand at the wrist and squeezed it
hard, all the time giving her my best bad ass stare. "You have made a very bad
mistake missy. You may have gotten away with that little pack of lies and even
that slap in the face before I went to the Left Coast, but that was then and
this is now. I'm gonna have to make your sorry ass pay dearly for showing me
this kind of disrespect. As for your buddy Vlad, he's welcome to come round and
try to do something about what I'm about to do to you if he's man enough." The
look that came over her face told me my gamble had paid off, I'd just drawn to
an ace high straight. I had just become the proud owner, or was it leasee, of
Mimi Marlowe's tight ass, and I intended to make the most of it starting right
now.

	"I intend to tan that scrawny ass of yours with my belt for your
impertinence. Now I'm a generous man, so you have the option of shucking those
clothes off here and now and bending your sorry ass over the arm of that chair
over there so I can beat it black and blue. Or, we can go to your room and do
the deed in private. It's your call, but either way that bare ass is going to
take a major bruising."

	Mimi led the way towards her bedroom, located on the second floor well
off the stairway. I followed, taking the opportunity to check out her ass and
legs as she mounted the stairs and then walked briskly down the carpeted hall
leading to her boudoir, as she described it. I remember an old saying about he
who rides the tiger dare not dismount, and I thought it was funny that here I
was, riding one mean pussy with everything on the line. I still was
congratulating myself on my brilliant recover from disaster, and looking forward
to watching my vanguished foe take off her clothes so I could beat the tar out
of her for being insubordinate. Mimi Marlowe was about to learn that  the new me
ran a very tight ship and brooked no nonsense from the hired help.

	I received a number of surprises once we were inside her inner sanctum.
She switched on a light,  then removed her dress in the illuminated circle it
provided.  Now I had seen Mimi Marlowe naked on two occasions at the clambake
I'd thrown at my house. What she proceeded to reveal did not match my memory.
Once she popped her tits free of her bra I was confronted with a pair of pert,
perky, stiff-nippled beauties that sat on her chest proud as a pair of mourning
doves. What in the world had happened to that set of saggy bags of well used
flesh that hung from her chest the last time I'd seen her in the altogether? I
did notice a little grin sneaking across her features as she stood there in just
her bikinis and took a few deep breaths to call attention to what she was
packing these days. I was most impressed.

	The next surprise came once she rolled her bikinis down her legs, and
stepped out of them to reveal a perfectly smooth pussy with a set of cunt lips
that looked like a coin slot. Now I know for a fact that Mimi Marlowe was fast
approaching a half century on this earth, and no woman that age ever had a pussy
that looked like the one at which I was gawking. Things became even more surreal
when she made a slow turn to let me view the ass that I was about to pound into
something resembling raw hambuger. Where had those saggy cheeks gone? How in the
world did she manage to lose the patches of cellulite that I had easily detected
while I was watching her being made airtight by a gaggle of sex crazed
teenagers? Then it slowly dawned on me that I had also taken notice of the fact
that her face had looked much firmer and well defined than when last we had met.

	"Well, what do you think? Do I pass inspection? How do you want me, bent
over the bed on my arms or perhaps lying on my stomach?"  I was too busy trying
not to swallow my tongue to answer her questions. Then she delivered the coup de
grace, another of those damned french words that nail things right on the head,
by sweetly asking if she could wear her handcuffs while I was disciplining her,
arguing that she felt more comfortable in a situation like this if she was
restrained and therefore helpless to prevent whatever was to occur. "In point of
fact in such a circumstance as I now find myself, the handcuffs act as a
security blanket. I become much more relaxed and can endure nearly anything an
angry gentleman like yourself can deal out to me." The use of the word
"gentleman" was deliberate and definitely not made sarcastically. I found myself
developing an erection that if  not dealt with quickly, would prove to be a
significant impediment to my disciplining of Ms Marlowe.

	I do believe that this minx had deliberately set this whole thing up
just to get me into bed with her. At times I also believe that I am related by
blood to Leonardo DaVinci, which is just as realistic a thought as the previous
one. Without going into the details too much, I was convinced to temporarily put
aside my plans to tan Ms Marlowe's ass and accept in lieu of that her heart-felt
contrition for her poor judgement when it came to evaluating my ethics and moral
intergity.

	Without sounding as if I am bragging, it is only fair to say that I have
spent time in the past with many mature women, most of whom used their knowledge
and experience to overcome any physical imperfections that may have developed
with the passage of time. In the case of this woman, she seemed to have found
the fountain of youth while retaining the wisdom and experience that usually
comes with the aging process. I will not claim that she was the best I ever had,
such an evaluation being strictly subjective. However when I combined her
expertise and the elasticity and firmness of her body, both inside and out, I
had to admit that she was a superior bedpartner.

	When she ushered me into her inner self, guiding my stiff member with
practiced skill, I immediately noticed that this woman was tight as a new bride,
an amazing characteristic for one her age, despite what she looked to be. It got
even better when after a few strokes I felt her lubricating. After that it was
just one fine ride which we prolonged by changing positions every few minutes
and even taking short rests while we remained locked tighty together at the
loins. All good things must come to an end and so it was for our first coupling.

	Mimi was most insistent that we engage in a rematch as soon as she
cleaned up. I suggested that perhaps we might take a shower together and then
see what developed. She heartily agreed and so we took the party down the hall
for a time. Even under the bright lights in her bathroom I was astonished at how
firm and shapely her body was. I joked that she must have sold her soul to the
devil for this fabulous body and she replied that I wasn't far from the truth.
She broke off any discussion by announcing that she had to douche and refresh
herself for another rendezvous with this angry bearded man who had taken control
of her body and was well on his way to making  significant inroads into her
psyche as well. I accepted the compliment for what it was, and  got a head start
in the shower while she took care of business before joining me.

	By the time we got out of the shower I was most certainly eager to take
up where we had left off. My pecker was hard as steel and all the fooling around
we  had done in the shower had whetted my appetite for another go-round with
this woman in a teenager's body. This time she insisted that I do a little
business down below before climbing on board for another brisk ride in the park.
I thought that was only fair and so I hunkered down between her spread thighs
and amused myself by seeing how far up her tight twat my tongue could worm its
way. Mimi proved to be quite ticklish and so I had some fun running my tongue
and lips up and down that coin slot of a cunt she sported and sucking a band of
hickies into her pebbled thighs. By the time she offered to house my missile
inside her silo, she was dripping wet.

	Our second coupling was even better than the first since we were both
fresh from the shower and this time I had properly warmed her up to respond
fully to what I had in store for her. To our mutual delight, Mimi squeezed off
not one but a trio of moderate orgasms that rippled through her body as I
pounded away inside her, stretching that tight tunnel for all I was worth. When
I finally launched, it was right on target and happily intercepted by my
bedmate. Afterwards we cuddled and exchanged some pillow talk. That's when
things got a bit weird.

	It seems that there is a plastic surgeon located a couple of hundred
miles from here who is very good. The reason he works in this neck of the woods
is that he's already made a bundle from his skill and wanted to return to his
roots. He is now more interested in perfecting his art than getting paid to do
rather pedestrian procedures like botox and collagen injections as well as laser
dermatology. This guy prefers being paid in pussy rather than money, another
reason for relocating in the country where there is a plentiful supply of
willing pussy. He is also ducking a few law suits from former patients who had
second thoughts about the type of cosmetic surgery he performed on them.

	Mimi began to use him to help her rehabilitate and improve the chances
of some of her girls to land husbands or obtain honest work before running a
husband to ground.  One thing led to another and he made her an offer she
couldn't refuse. He would rebuild her body in exchange for access to her new and
improved pussy and asshole as well. It turns out that he had a thing for older
women, which also had gotten him in trouble on a number of previous occasions
while he was practicing in the big city.

	Within a period of four weeks he gave her a new set of spectacular
breasts, not large, but ones that were almost ideally formed and fit her new
body to perfection. He also gave her a tummy tuck and a buttock lift which was a
combination of body sculpting and implants that resulted in an ass that you
could bounce quarters off. He also got rid of her cellulite and other skin
related imperfections. Finally he tightened the muscles and skin in her face and
of even more critical importance he rejuvinated her vagina, giving her the pussy
of a teenager, and even managed to tighten her anal passageway.

	In exchange, once a week she had to return to his office for a follow-up
exam that included some  testing of her new vagina and a new exercise regimen
for her asshole that involved his penis. He also began to include another
colleague so they could do simultaneous testing of her improved orifices. She
had managed to renegotiate their agreement so that he allowed her to substitute
prescreened teens from her harem as well as Marie on some occasions. It was an
amazing story, but based on what I'd experienced it had to be true. Then she got
around to talking about her relationship with sheriff Vlad and things began to
get very spooky.


				( To be continued)

			        Livin' In the Country


	                               Chapter 20


	
	To break the somber mood that had descended on Ms Marlowe I searched
around for one of her sweet spots and commenced stirring things up with a
vigorous application of tongue, lips and teeth. The lady responded rather
quickly and repositioned herself so that my nose was resting only a tongue's
length from her clit that was beginning to shuck off it covering so it could
come out and play. I did my imitation of a hound searching for the scent and she
giggled as my nose ran up and down that thin-lipped cunt she had specially
carved from her own flesh for use by only a select few. The more I explored, the
better things seemed to get. I could not believe my good luck. Here I was in the
company of a mature woman of the world who to all extents and purposes had just
received a complete body makeover that took at least twenty-five years off her
form. She reached down and ran her fingers through my hair as she whispered,
"Are you planning to stay for supper, or do you have a previous commitment that
you have to honor?"

	I planted a wet, noisy kiss on that little nubbin of hard flesh that was
coming out to get some fresh air and replied. "I guess the only commitment I
have is to tan the hide of this fractious female who is currently trying to
seduce me to stay in her bed so we can exchange bodily fluids once more. I do
recall not having had much in the line of sustenance this day. I think in
realistic terms, supper would solve a number of issues. It would provide me with
more energy that could be put to use later as I flattened this lady's firm ass
with my belt until she was properly chastised. Then I'd probably have enough
interest and enthusiasm left to resume exchanging fluids with this by now very
contrite senior citizen that is currently lurking in the body of one at least
half her age." My little speech seemed to carry the day and so we got decent,
well as decent as the weather would allow, and headed down to the kitchen for
some supper.

	Mimi hustled and bustled around in her kitchen and I just took in the
show and tried not to drool too much at what I was seeing. It was hard not to
get excited as I took in her pillowy breasts gently bouncing up and down on her
chest as she made one interesting movement after another. Her silver-gray hair
and motherly facial characteristics clashed with those firm mounds of flesh and
the gently rounded bowl of her stomach, not to mention her firm shapely thighs
that emerged from the colorful panties she wore. I'd never seen such a riot of
color due to the huge flower pattern that covered them. I couldn't help but
notice the white magnolia that seemed deliberately centered in the tight
pooching crotch of those silken panties. This was one classy lady and the more I
saw of what she had, the hotter I got. It was going to be a real challenge not
to declare an intermission here and now so we could retreat to her bedroom and
muss up the sheets once more.

	Ms Marlowe must have read my mind because she gave a sound akin to a
teacher preparing to chide an unruly pupil. "I have invested enough time and
energy preparing this meal that I will not allow it to be side-tracked by a
certain individual's loss of self control. Now please assist me by getting the
table set while I put this into the oven. It will take perhaps thirty-five
minutes or so to cook properly, which is really not enough time for you and I to
find a comfortable place and position in which to allow ourselves the
opportunity to exchange bodily fluids once more. That delightful propect must be
held in abeyance until we have fortifed ourselves for what lies ahead this
evening."

	I was awe struck at the words that tripped from her bee stung lips with
such facile grace and ease. I was in the presence of not only beauty but a
person of high intelligence who had been the beneficiary of a proper education.
At least that was my opinion at that moment in time. I felt like some love
struck high school student  falling in love with his teacher. That did make me
laugh when I thought back to the way Ms. Marlowe was shamelessly cavorting,
coupling and copulating with that crazed mob of oversexed teens at my clambake.

	Supper, as she decribed it, was anothe revelation. This gorgeous full
blown woman could cook. I mean really cook! What she had thrown together was
typical of the diet that we country folks ate every day of our lives, but she
had added a few tricks and subtracted some of the less perfect aspects of our
cusine to create something that was more than just edible. I was beginning to
have visions of Rhonda and her evil brood being flung head first off of my front
porch while my new lady friend, who looked a lot like Ms Marlowe, beamed happily
in my direction. Better yet, standing just behind this vision of loveliness
stood a set of blonde twins that appeared at first glance to resemble the
Tolliver girls. To make my wet dream even more exciting, this diminutive
darling, in a corset that turned her sleek body into an hour glass featuring
astounding breasts, stood by the twins smiling and blowing me a kiss as I
launched Rhonda's feebleminded son , Jack, into an orbit that would lead to him
touching down right next to the hog feeder.

	"A penny for your thoughts." Her voice made me feel as if someone was
tickling me behind the ear and I did everything but  lose control of my back
leg. It was a most embarrassing moment, almost like being caught with your pants
down and your dick in one hand.  Quick as a flash I lied to her, in a sense,
then realized that I was speaking the truth. I could see the funny look on her
face when I told her I was just tossing a few things around in my mind, and then
burst into laughter at what I had just uttered.

	Ms Marlowe offered two types of dessert, one being peach cobbler and the
other being her own peach to be served upstairs in the comfort of her bed. I was
stuffed like a Christmas goose, but courtesy demanded I sample her baking. She
cautioned me about having too much to eat, a situation that had more than once
left her in a lurch, so to speak. I replied by questioning what kind of swain
would substitute food, even her cooking, for the opportunity of an even more
delicious feast involving the cook. She smiled and declared that since her
surgeries she had not had to address this issue. My chest and another portion of
my body swelled with a mixture of pride and lust.

	We compromised a bit by doing the dishes, something alien to me in the
past, but this was the new me in a new set of circumstances. She washed, I dried
and she and I put them away while enjoying a little hanky panky involving
certain features of her anatomy being petted, patted, pinched, poked, probed and
even prodded, all in a friendly matter I might add. This in turn led to her
suggesting that a nice refreshing shower might be in order before we adjorned to
the friendly field of strife also known as her bed. I could not ever recall
having to shower more than once in a day in all the years I'd been living in the
country.This of course did not count the incidences when this was a requirement
while I was employed as a stunt cock for E-cubed Enterprises, and had to work
long hours under hot lights, often with young ladies that were not at the peak
of freshness shall we say.

	Deciding that an additional shower would cause no reduction in my libido
and might gain me some extra advantages with my lovely, surgically altered
bedmate, made the decision an easy one, or as we used to say in La La Land, a
no-brainer. Now let me tell you, showering with a naked lady who has all the
right things in all the right places and is almost as hot to trot as you are is
not an easy task to handle. My erection kept getting in the way of progress and
soon I discovered myself on bended knees licking the shaven pubes of Ms Mimi
Marlowe and trying my best not to take on too much water as it cascaded down
upon us.

	Toweling off was another challenge, especially when she asked me to
first do her back, then move down to her firm rounded ass and then do some
serious drying in that crack between those rounded cheeks that by now were rosy
and ready for funning. In return she made sure that my private parts were well
attended to, but I thought it a bit unfair when she kissed the head of my pecker
and then swabbed the length of my stiff appendage with her pebbled tongue. I
nearly lost it then and there. That woman was a demon incarnate at times. I
wonder to this day what might have occurred if I had an accident at this point;
then I put that ugly thought from my mind because nearly all of the options that
remain were negative in the extreme.

	We played the "after you, no, after you" game for a few minutes once we
were comfortably ensconced in her bed. I then took the bull by the horns and
went down on the lady in question, gaining some style points as I tongued her
like that pussy was made out of ice cream. She oohed and aahed for the longest
time, but her cunt remained dry as dust, quite a surprise given her earlier
performance this very day. I began to become frustrated, snuffling around inside
her private preserve like a hound trying to pick up the scent of its quarry.
Next on the agenda I checked the location where last I had seen her clitoris and
discovered that the little nubbin of flesh was still under the covers so to
speak.

	I will never quite understand what possessed me to do what I did, but
without any consideration whatsoever I gave Ms Marlowe's clit a wake up call by
nipping it with my teeth right through the hood. My companion tried to levitate
herself off the bed at the same time she let out a screech that would have done
an owl proud. I grabbed her by the tits and applied some pressure to those
ersatz beauties. This time she let out a moan that turned into a howl as I
squeezed those firm fun bags, noticing that their texture and consistency was
quite lifelike. The next thing I knew she went on the offensive, grabbing me by
the hair and jamming my face down and into her snatch which had gone from arid
to squishing in no time flat. I could not believe the amount of pussy juice that
was issuing from that cunt. I did my best to lap up as much of it as I could to
avoid drowning in her bed. I knew that would make a very embarrassing headline
and perhaps even a short human interest story on one of the TV networks.

	We did a pretty good impression of most of the wrestling events that
were showing these days. First I was on the bottom, then after a reverse, she
was. I caught an accidental knee to the groin that doubled me up but when she
tried it a second time I accidently responded in kind, nailing her right in the
cunt and taking all the air out of her lungs. We then locked each other up in a
joint death grip, her hands around my family jewels and mine around her neck.
Then we kissed and made up as our tongues explored the others mouth and found it
to be a good thing.

	Then I pinned her to the mattress and proceeded to nail her good and
proper. The harder I drilled her the more she pushed back. The faster I reamed
her out the more she gushed. The sheets were a mess and I had not yet delivered
anything resembling bodily fluids in this particular session. She kept urging me
to go deeper, even though I was bottoming out on every other stroke. The only
way I could be any deeper is if I punched my way into her uterus. I remember a
moment when I got a good look at her face; it was scary. She was literally
frothing at the mouth ,or all that drool made it look that way. Her eyes were
popping out of their sockets but they were unfocused and she was chewing on her
tongue and lips as she made incoherent sounds that were flat spooky.

	At one time she actually flipped me over onto my back, mounted me and
rode my quivering body like a mad woman. Her pussy was clamped round my cock
like one of those anaconda snakes, squeezing the life out of the poor thing. I
did what any sane man on the verge of extinction would do, I started slapping
her ass for all I was worth, then when that only got her more heated up, I
started pounding my fists into her ribs. That worked just fine. Now it was my
turn to pin her to the sheets and hold on for dear life. I was afraid of getting
my face too close to her lest she take a chunk out of it.

	If there was ever a Mexican standoff, this was it. I just did my best to
keep as many dangerous parts of this crazy lady restrained in one way or
another. Gradually her struggles came to a halt and she heaved a big sigh. "Damn
that was great! The next time though, you better use the cuffs on me or you're
liable to get hurt." I was totally flabbergasted to hear her say those words.
Then it dawned on me that I hadn't ever did what a man was supposed to do; my
prong was still like a steel bar jutting out from my loins. It poked into her
body, where, I wasn't even sure. She let out a giggle that broke the ice and
from there on everything was fine and dandy.

	Mimi was most eager to make amends for her behavior which she described
as "wanton". I countered with "exuberant" which she graciously accepted. Then
she confessed that I was the first man to enjoy the charms of the new and
improved Mimi Marlowe and that she was having a difficult time of it learning to
operate her new body with its additional hormones and the like. I then
diplomatically asked if she was faking it when we had gone at it earlier. That
got me a sound cuffing about the head and shoulders, but her blows were in truth
love taps, as she could not control her laughter. "No you nasty pervert, I've
been holding myself back for fear of just what did occur when I let myself get
loose." Her reply made perfect sense to me.

	Then I was treated to perhaps the best blowjob a man ever received. Now
you have to remember that Ms Mimi Marlowe was famous for her after school
courses on the subject of sex and the country girl. She had taught a generation
of youngsters the ins and outs of doing the nasty with a heavy emphasis on the
hands on approach. It was for this very reason that she had a devoted following
of young men and a few young women who never got over their first encounter with
the esteemed teacher. Now try to imagine all that knowledge packed into a new
body that allowed her to exactly perform in the manner that she espoused in her
teachings. I will admit to a feeling of sympathy for a minute or so, the memory
of my worthy adversary still freshly imprinted in my mind, not to mention
certain parts of my body as well.

	Ms Marlowe took all the time in the world getting me relaxed to the
point that I began to enjoy the sensations that she was developing in my stiff
member that was so filled with blood that it was becoming painful. She did not
suck, jack, kiss, lick, hum or perform any of the other features of your typical
blowjob. Her blowjob was a smoothly staged event that was like a cycle, growing
to a point where I expected release and then backing off ever so slighty to
allow me to thoroughly enjoy every subtle move that had gotten us to this phase
in the process.

	This may sound rather clinical and that is my fault for being unable to
adequately put into words what it meant to be brought to another world beyond
one's imagination. When I came it was unhurried, it was timed to perfection, it
was the ideal ending and yet the promise of another beginning as well. I know
this sounds crazy, but those were the thoughts going through my mind when I
transferred a couple of million non-swimmers into her warm suctioning mouth and
then had the extreme pleasure of watching her throat move as she swallowed every
drop. You talk about fulfillment, I was well and truly made complete at that
moment.

	Later that evening I listened to her story about her relationship with
sheriff Vlad. It seemed that the old Mimi Marlowe was searching for something
that she felt was missing in her life. She was becoming painfully aware that her
attractiveness to many members of the opposite sex was waning despite her
fantastic charisma. Even though the fact was that she was considered a legend
among the youngsters in this and many surrounding counties, she was still
uncomfortable with her current situation.

	One day while she was driving somewhere with only a small fraction of
her wits devoted to her surroundings, she had the misfortune to not bend, but
utterly shatter a number of local ordinances governing the speed limit, right of
way and signaling. The upshot of this series of indiscretions was her first
meeting with the good sheriff once he got his patrol car out of the ditch where
she had caused him to take shelter. After looking carefully at her drivers
license which was in good order, and checking both her registration and
insurance, he decided to give her a field sobriety test.

	Out here in the country when the sheriff, who has just been run off the
road tells you to do such and so, you had better comply. This axiom was not lost
on Ms Marlowe. So when the sheriff suggested she might have an easier time
taking his test if she removed most of her clothing, she complied.The bulge that
developed in his perfectly tailored britches was noted by Ms Marlowe. She was
rather thrilled over the fact that the sight of her partially clothed body could
have such an influence on one so unapproachable as the sheriff.

	Although he gave her three tries at passing, the last one while she was
stark naked, he concluded that her responses to his requests to do such things
as close her eyes and walk a straight line backwards and answer questions such
as what was the cube root of four thousand and ninety-six, indicated to him that
she was under the influence of either alcohol or drugs. Therefore he cuffed her
hands behind her back and put her in the trunk of the police car in order to
take the prisoner to his station to be booked. Ms Marlowe was beginning to
realize that some negotiationing had to begin here and now. As soon as the car
started up, she began kicking and yelling in hopes of getting his attention. A
few miles down the road her constant attack on the interior of the trunk got his
attention at last.

	One thing led to another and instead of being taken to his place of
business, she accepted his invitation to visit his domicile and perform some
housekeeping tasks in lieu of being booked for a variety of county ordinance
violations including assault on an officer of the law. Mimi was of the opinion
that she might avoid prison time in this matter with the proper legal
assistance, but she would suffer irreparable damage to her character and good
name. Besides for the first time in many years she was sexually excited about
being with a man, a man that made her feel like a young girl again. A man that
had her sopping wet by the time he took her from the police car and marched his
handcuffed, naked prisoner into his shabby, poorly maintained house.


				( To be continued )

				Livin' In the Country


				    Chapter 21


	It turned out that sheriff Vlad was a while lot smarter than Mimi
Marlowe gave him credit for being. Her misjudgment cost her considerably over
the next month. The first thing the sheriff did once he had her inside his place
was march her to the bedroom, a small dark room that smelled of semen and other
unmentionable odors. There wasn't much Mimi could do but take it like a man,
which is what she did since he sodomized her. She put up some resistance, a big
mistake as he twisted her saggy tits until she broke into tears from the pain.
The first time he went through her back door was a most agonizing experience for
the schoolteacher. Don't get me wrong; this was not something with which she was
unfamiliar. Mimi had done this particular deed numerous times and even enjoyed
it most of the time. However in the case of Vlad, he had only one intention, to
dominate and degrade her, which is what he proceeded to do over the next two
days and nights.

	Ms Marlowe had not paid enough attention to what transpired just after
he unceremoniously pushed her into the trunk of his police car. He called into
headquarters announcing that he wanted Ms Marlowe's car towed and impounded.
Furthermore he informed his second in command that he was escorting the prisoner
to a nearby hospital to have her blood alcohol measured and recorded for future
action in the event that it was found to be over the legal limit. She had no way
of knowing that there was a staff member at the hospital who owed Vlad a favor
that he would collect this very evening.

	During the rest of the afternoon when Vlad wasn't raping the teacher or
forcing her to drink enough liquor to make her repeatedly vomit, he made her
clean up the pig sty he was occupying. By nightfall she was blind, staggering
drunk and could barely remember her own name. He made her put her dress back on,
but wouldn't allow her to wear any underwear or shoes for that matter. Then he
drove her to the hospital in the police car and took his prisoner in through the
back entrance where his friend waited.

	To be certain that everything would seem to be on the up and up, he
taped the entire procedure including Mimi Marlowe puking all over herself just
after taking the breatholyzer test. Still not satisfied, he had the technician
take a blood sample as further backup. When she made some effort to resist, Vlad
put her in a choke hold until she passed out. By then she was naked since the
stench of her vomit soaked dress made both Vlad and the technician nauseous. She
was then quickly hustled back out to his car, cuffed and dumped into the trunk
with a burlap bag over her head to catch any vomit that she might bring up on
the drive back to Vlad's place.

	Once he had her back at his place he proceeded to rape her more as
punishment for her inability to hold her liquor, rather than to gain any
enjoyment from the act. The next morning while he was sinking his huge cock into
her sore cunt he reminded her that she had behaved rather badly last evening and
he had made her pay for her indiscretion. Somehow his matter of fact attitude
toward her as a sexual being brought some rather odd feelings to the surface.
She was amazed to discover that he was dead set against her teaching the
children about how to properly perform sex so that they could derive the maximum
pleasure from the act. Mimi was secretly proud of the fact that she could sense
that her presence evoked some feelings in him that he would not exactly admit to
her or even himself. By the end of her second day with him, Mimi Marlowe was on
the verge of becoming one of his camp followers, a situation she was having a
great deal of trouble handling.

	This is not to say that Ms Marlowe lived a sheltered life, to the
contrary. She had a most active sex life that included both sexes running the
gamut in age. She admitted to having bedded a man in his seventies and
thoroughly enjoying his fast tongue on her hot, dripping cunt  just before she
sucked him off and swallowed every tart tasting drop he produced. In the
interests of not flaunting county standards that define the age of consent, she
would only admit that she had personally slept with many dozens of young men and
an occasional precocious girl on that day when they reached their majority as
defined by the county. Despite her vast experience she had never encountered any
man like sheriff Vlad. Thus began a tempestuous relationship that lasted the
better part of six months.

	It was business as usual on their last night together. Ms Marlowe did as
she was told, bending at the waist with her hands prying her cheeks as wide
apart as she could get them in preparation for another bout of sodomy. She
concentrated on seeing what changes she had made to his living quarters. The
sheets were fresh, his clothing was washed, ironed and carefully put away. Now
all that was necessary was the hope that he wouldn't try to make her scream or
worse still, cry, as he wedged his long, thick dick into her swollen asshole
that had already been reamed out at least half a dozen times in the past
forty-eight hours.

	It hurt, it hurt a great deal. He put plenty of muscle behind each and
every thrust, holding her hips motionless so he could deliver the maximum amount
of force. The sound of his belly slapping against her soft cheeks plus her
groans and later sobs were the only sounds that came from the pair as he did his
best to give her lots of pain to remember him by, as if that was truly
necessary. Later when he finished hosing her bowels with his seed he reminded
her that he still had pictures and test results in his possession that were
damning. To emphasize his power over her, he forced Mimi to her knees and made
her take his slime coated prong into her mouth and suck off and swallow every
bit of material that had accumulated on it while he had probed her tight tunnel.
By now she was getting accustomed to this little ritual, and so she managed to
hold down what little food he had given her that day. He yawned and slapped her
hard on her butt and told her to get a move on if she wanted him to take her to
her car. That was the last she heard from Vlad for nearly two weeks.

	Her students immediately knew that something was wrong with their well
repected teacher and sexual mentor. She seemed distracted, almost as if she
wasn't even present. Her after school lectures and lab exercises had lost their
edge. No one could hazard a guess about what was causing her condition. Their
concern was nothing compared to what she was experiencing.

	Even after nearly a week, her asshole still hurt. Bowel movements were
major productions and often resulted in blood, not much, but blood nevertheless
oozing out of her asshole along with a few watery turds she managed to squeeze
out every other day or so. The physical side of things proved to be less
invasive than the mental end.

	She had dreams every night featuring herself and Vlad, who took many
guises including a slavering wolf and a magnificent but fractious horse. Both
animals ripped her cunt and asshole open, tearing the fragile openings into
pieces as they rutted and  had their way with her. What made it even more
frightening was the fact that in her dreams she thanked her assailants for all
the pain and agony they caused her.

	She soon discovered that in order to get to sleep it was necessary to
masturbate and, as she did so, have sexual fantasies about what she and Vlad
might do in better times. This terror disguised as a man had completely taken
over her life both conscious and subconscious. Ms Marlowe was beginning to
contemplate seeing a doctor to obtain some kind of medication that would
eliminate the need for the endless hours she spent diddling herself with her
fingers, and the silver bullet vibrator that until now had been a toy and not a
necessity.

	Things did not get any better on the second week as far as the
sleeplessness, the nightmares and the lengthy bouts of almost mindless
masturbation that seemed to be the only way to escape reality even for a short
time. Her students grew more and more concerned, but could do nothing. When she
canceled her after hours class until further notice her announcement was greeted
with disbelief and consternation. The only positive thing that happened during
the second week was the rectal bleeding finally stopped, although her bowel
movements were at best sporadic and still quite painful.

	Late that week she received a call from her tormentor. He wanted her to
come over to his place Friday evening and plan on staying the weekend. She
remembered how wet she got when he added, "Don't bother wearing anything fancy,
you got a lot of work to do and I'll provide the uniform." His sinister laugh
sent shivers of lust down her spine as she imagined herself being raped over and
over by this monster who had her totally under his control. That evening she had
a number of tremendous orgasms as she focused on what he would probably do to
her as she jammed that silver bullet deep into her soaked cunt, trying to
imitate the violence that she knew would be her lot as he dominated and degraded
her for his amusement. Strangely enough, the next morning she awoke refreshed,
her night having been free of those dreadful encounters with her master, Vlad.

	He had told her when to be at his place. She arrived a half hour early
and spent most of the time masturbating shamelessly with her vibrator. She had
changed the batteries just before leaving her place, deciding that perhaps a
little diddling might ease her anxiety about being under his rule once again.
She put it away in the glove compartment as soon as she heard the sound of a car
coming. Mimi got out and stood there in the headlights from the approaching
police car. Another step in her descent was about to take place and she could
hardly wait.

	Vlad had a beer and then another as she fixed his dinner. "Miss me?" he
asked with an evil grin. Mimi did her best to ignore him, but he would not be
denied. "Take off that dress and there better not be anything under it." This
time there was was an undertone of menace in his voice and she shivered, not
sure if she was afraid or just eager for him to start in on her body. As she
stripped off the cotton dress, a plain one she usually wore around her place,
she thanked her lucky stars she hadn't given in to the temptation to wear
something sexy beneath it. Already she was beginning to learn the little things
about her master.

	Now he insulted her figure, the first step in tearing down her self
confidence . She had to admit that her breasts were on the small side and the
years had taken their toll on their firmness. Her belly was more than a little
rounded; she kept promising herself to exercise more, particularly those painful
situps, but there was aways a good excuse to delay it for another week. When he
described her bottom as fat and sagging she nearly lost her poise. Then she
wondered if he might dare insult her pussy as well. Almost as if her thought had
cued him, Vlad smirked and observed, " That cunt of yours sure is hairy,
probably to try to hide those flaps you call cunt lips. They're more wrinkled
than your flabby arms and that beer gut you got hanging over that hairy snatch.
The next time you come over I want to see that cunt nice and smooth, so you can
see exactly what I'm talking about."

	Ms Marlowe was totally devastated by his cruel but mostly accurate
remarks. She tried to dismiss those verbal barbs by concentrating of his food
which was nearly ready to be served. However he kept up his attack on her
psyche. "While I eat, you clean up the bedroom so we have somewhere to spread
out and get comfortable for the rest of the night. I want fresh sheets on the
bed and pick up all that crap from the floor. We may get company tonight and if
so, you are gonna have to sleep on the floor unless you want to join in." Mimi
began to shake when she heard about another woman. What kind of a monster was
this man? Why was he tormenting her this way? Didn't he realize that he had her
in the palm of his hand? Was this just some kind of a sick game he was playing
with her? Was there really a woman coming over tonight? Did he say that just to
frighten and make her feel even more worthless? His laugh hinted that most of
her questions had answers that showed him to be even more cruel and heartless
than she first thought.

	During her cleaning of the bedroom that had once again become a total
disaster, she came across a pair of soiled panties, obviously left behind by one
of the sluts that visited Vlad. Based on the panties, this particular one was a
very slim woman,  atypical of most of the sluts that prowled the countryside
looking for sex or someone foolish enough to either move in with or marry them.
Most of these loose women were mothers, some deserted, others divorced and
others just too dumb to make sure that the man or men who fathered their
children stayed around long enough to give them a name.

	She made no mention of her find when Vlad came in to inspect her
housekeeping. He grunted and then smacked Mimi hard on her bottom, growling that
the meal was barely edible. The next thing she knew, her wrists were being
cuffed behind her back. She stood there not knowing what to do as Vlad dropped
his clothing to the floor, then pushed her onto the bed, face forward. She
groaned inwardly, realizing that there was a very good chance that he was about
to sodomize her, probably opening up the very wounds inside her rectum that had
just barely healed. He did not disappoint her. Vlad took her viciously, his
hands reaching around so that he could maul her breasts as he raped her
extremely sensitive hole, making Ms Marlowe scream into the mattress as he
pistoned away inside her bowels. When he finally flooded her colon with his
sperm she was once more forced to use her mouth to clean off his slimy prong,
now coated with whatever he had loosened from the walls of her colon, as well as
traces of fresh blood.

	For some reason he did not bother to share with her, he was in a foul
mood. He gave her a severe spanking that brought a flow of tears and then
begging from her to stop before he harmed her permanently. That just made him
angrier and he walloped her even harder, now leaving more than just the imprint
of his large hand on her bruised butt. He pinched her blistered bottom cruelly,
enjoying the sounds he dragged from her. Then he resumed his vicious beating,
rupturing many of the blood vessels located just below the skin.

	Then as suddenly as it began, he stopped. As she sobbed and shook from
the terrible pain still radiating from her badly beaten butt, he kneaded her
swollen, sagging cheeks absent mindedly until her sobs ceased. Then he dumped
her onto the bed and left, returning shortly with a six pack of beer. It was
going to be a long night for Ms Mimi Marlowe, and still she faced the prospect
of having another woman visiting and perhaps even joining in on her degradation
and torture.

	After having a beer Vlad decided to watch some porno tapes that he had
confiscated from the local dealer of such items when there had been a complaint
made about selling this product to underage customers. He thought it was funny
that the age of consent, by law in the county was thirteen, but it was illegal
to sell tapes over the counter to these very same youngsters showing what they
were allowed to do in private. On the other hand he had to admit that the ones
from Germany went a little too far with their emphasis on pissing and fisting.

	He put Mimi to work sucking some life back into his cock while he
watched the tape. Vlad popped open another beer and took a long pull as his eyes
moved back and forth from the television to what was occurring at his crotch.
The middle aged schoolteacher bobbed her head up and down making his cock
disappear and reappear, each cycle making it shine a little more from the
coating of saliva that was building up on it. She seemed to be enjoying herself
which tickled him no end. He'd show this uppity woman who was who before all was
said and done. In fact he looked forward to many long weekends just like this
one, with her doing the cooking, cleaning and providing all the ass, pussy and
head he wanted along with getting a few good spankings just to keep her in line.
Now if Cora would only show up as she promised, the weekend would be off to a
perfect start.

	Mimi dedicated herself to giving her lord and master the best head he
ever had. She licked his dick from base to tip, fluttering her tongue across the
sensitive head until his cock twitched. Her lips molded themselves to this
swollen piece of meat, trailing kisses down to his balls. Upon her arrival she
took one and then the other entirely within her warm wet mouth and sucked them
until he hissed, acknowledging almost against his will what pleasure she was
providing. Then she squirmed into a position that allowed her to hover over the
top of his rock hard cock, almost as if she was a mongoose and his cock a
quivering king cobra.

	Then she dove down upon the head of the snake and began to swallow it,
never gagging as she took almost six inches down her throat, held her position
and then brought her head up to release his slimy dick that glistened in the
eerie  light from the television that he no longer was watching. He moaned and
then she enveloped his entire length on the next pass. He thrust his hips up to
drive every last fraction of his super stiff joint into this woman who knew some
tricks he had only heard about. This was going to be even more fun than he first
thought. Vlad felt the tingling in his scrotum that signaled that it was time
for him to relieve the tension that she had built up in his body. "Get on your
back, open those legs as wide as you can and arch your back so I can nail that
cunt good. I'm gonna rip you in two this time." His words lit a fire in the
schoolteacher and she eagerly offered herself up to his not so tender mercies.


				 ( To be continued)

				Livin' In the Country


				     Chapter 22


	Mimi Marlowe would never forget the incredibly brutal raping she got
that night. His first thrust made her feel as if she had been kicked in the
belly by a mule. Before she could begin to even react to the pain, a second
hammer-like blow followed, driving the air from her body. A third and a fourth
and on and on this awesome, terrible assault continued. To Mimi there was only
pain and more pain, all centered deep inside her cunt. He was driving a spike
into her every time he lunged and cursed her for being the cheap whore that she
sometimes dreamed of becoming.

	The force of his massive cock blasting away inside her poorly toned body
caused her eyes to bounce in their sockets, making the room jump every time he
skewered her and snarled that he wished he could fuck her to death. He did a
good job of trying; she had to give him credit for that. The fury of his attack
never slackened, the pain remained unending and as intense as anything she had
ever experienced. She became aware of his sweat dripping onto her breasts and
into the hollow below her neck. The little pool of perspiration in that hollow
began to splash as the ferocious rape continued unabated.

	He had her pinned down and she realized that the handcuffs had begun to
rub away the skin covering her bony spinal column. At first it was just a blip
on the radar screen, but as blow after blow was delivered to her cunt the pain
in her spine began to assume serious proportions. Mimi began to scream between
the powerful strokes he delivered like some type of machine. Each was cut off by
the force generated when the head of his cock pounded against her bruised
cervical wall. She started to believe that perhaps he was capable of killing her
in this manner. Her insides felt strange, almost as if they were being turned
into mush, liquifying from the heat and mindless crushing taking place in her
deepest chamber.

	Abruptly he halted his attack and stared down at her shocked face with
eyes glittering like some animal about to take its prey. He shifted his hips
from side to side, making her battered cunt walls stretch even more, bringing a
new and different kind of pain to make her wish for death rather then endure
another bout of this terrible torment. Then his big hands were around her neck,
squeezing hard and cutting off any air from reaching her lungs. Her eyes bulged
and panic made her heart race to the point that it felt as if it was about to
burst from her chest. She began to think that she was about to die on these
soaked sheets in this dreary room, killed by an animal disguised as a man. She
did not want to end her life this way. She started to pray for a miracle,
promising whatever force interceeded on her behalf that she would do their
bidding for the rest of her days on earth. At that point everything went black,
Mimi thought she was on the brink of death.

	When she awoke, her cunt was throbbing, her throat ached and she lay in
a pool of her own urine, having lost control of her bladder as she passed out
from being strangled. Her assailant was seated on the bed staring at the
television which was showing an overweight woman in her fifties drinking some
guy's piss staight from his dick.

	"Back for round two? Give me a minute and I'll fuck you some more. What
you got earlier was just the first installment. I thought I could cram in the
whole course in one night, but that dumb cunt Cora is probably getting her
brains fucked out in exchange for some meth. I'm gonna have to put that bag of
bones back in county for another six months. Some of them never learn it seems.
I hope you're smarter than Cora. You should be, considering that you're a 
schoolteacher. Then on the other hand I have to wonder how smart you are if you
teach youngsters about sex instead of letting their parents handle that. Come to
think of it, you must be kind of dumb to run me off the road in broad daylight
and then say that you didn't see me in my police car until it was too late. I'm
only letting you off with probation because of your age, occupation and lack of
prior convictions."

	His words were like a slap in the face to Mimi. He was treating her as
if she was one of those ill educated folk who had no interest in anything that
didn't involve drinking, fornicating or cheating on their spouses. What did he
mean by probation? Was this some kind of poor joke played on her? Perhaps she
ought to hire a lawyer and see what she could do to protect her rights in this
matter. Obviously his intentions towards her were strictly business it seemed,
and rather under the table at that. Then she recognized the fact that here she
was, stark naked and handcuffed, lying in his bed in a pool of her urine,
waiting for him to rape her once more.

	She shuddered when she also realized that she was getting wet just
thinking about getting more of the same from this cruel but fascinating man. She
was not disappointed, for he gave her an encore performance that made her scream
with ecstasy and beg him to fuck her until she came, no matter how long it took.
All he did was grin, kick his attack up another gear and make her see her god. 
At  least that's what she thinks she saw just before the top of her head was
lifted off from this explosion that took place deep inside her twitching,
quivering, soaking wet cunt. Afterward he took off the cuffs so she could change
the bedding. Mimi spent the rest of the night on the floor, once more handcuffed
with only a thin blanket to protect her from the cool evening.

	The next day he kept Ms Marlowe extremely busy, cleaning, washing, doing
the dishes, cooking and neatening up the rest of the hovel that he called home.
She discovered that as part of her probation she would not be fed, however she
would be allowed to drink a quart of water in one sitting. Mimi was allowed only
one bathroom break every six hours, not a problem except after she had just
downed a quart of water, usually at midday or early in the afternoon. When she
relieved herself she would be observed by the sheriff who delighted in seeing
how much he could break her concentration, thus making the entire process even
more demeaning.

	She was raped once in the morning and again in the afternoon, short but
brutal poundings that she was beginning to secretly relish. Vlad also began
filling in the blanks when it came to his version of probation and just what
type of relationship he had developed with this woman, Cora. When combined they
gave her a picture of Vlad that effectively scotched any plans or dreams she may
have had concerning their future personal relationship.

	It turned out that Vlad was more of an automaton than brute. He had a
strict but skewed moral sense that controlled his life in almost all its facets.
His beliefs could not be argued or even discussed, they were his beliefs, that
was that. Mimi Marlowe was a law breaker and was to be treated as such despite
her position in society. There was almost nothing personal in the way she was to
be treated; all of those women who were put on probation by the sheriff were
treated the same.

	Rape was just a tool he employed regardless of the woman's age or
position in society. It was used to make her humble, even subservient. If the
woman was attractive or skilled in the bedroom arts he naturally enjoyed raping
her somewhat more. He used Mimi's expertise as a fellatrice, especially her deep
throat techique, as an example of a woman giving him more enjoyment while he was
employing standard disciplining procedures on her. Different crimes brought
different punishments. Ms Marlowe was at the low end when it came to the type of
punishment regime that Vlad determined she should undergo, and for how long.

	He summed up her situation in blunt fashion. "Every time you take a dump
I want it to remind you that you broke the law and are being punished for it.
That's why I make sure that you bleed from the rectum when I have anal sex with
you. Every time you have sex during your probation I want it to be uncomfortable
for the same reason, that's why I go out of my way to pummel and pound you until
you're sore and aching when I let you return to your home and other life. I
spank you hard and often so that every time you sit you are reminded of your
situation. Obviously to a person such as yourself, waiting on me hand and foot
for an entire weekend, having to fast and being observed closely while you
urinate, as well as the sex and spankings completes your humbling."

	In contrast he gave her the story of Cora and what she experienced
starting with a rather harsh period of probation that soon graduated to being
sent to the county women's farm and workhouse, a facility where she was
brutalized and turned into the sex toy for some of the women guards. It was not
a pretty tale by any stretch of the imagination.

	The first time she was arrested, Cora was charged with prostitution. At
the time she had just turned sixteen and was hooking to get money to support her
meth habit. Cora was a pretty girl, but like many of the teens living in  the
country she was on the verge of being obese, the result of the less than well
balanced diet provided at home, and all the junk food that she shoveled into her
mouth as a substitute for popularity. Selling her body, all 195 pounds of it,
was a way of empowerment for the girl. Many of her better looking friends were
giving it away for free to their boyfriends or even family members. The fact
that men would pay money to use her sexually made Cora feel important and was a
source of good money when she applied herself. She was not particular about who
her customers were or what they wanted to do to her, as long as they had the
right price for her services.

	While she was being booked at the station, she encountered sheriff Vlad.
He had a private meeting with her in his interview room that lasted the better
part of the afternoon. During that time she was told to strip so she could be
searched for drugs and weapons. She made the mistake of resisting his orders and
so he brought in a pair of his deputies to assist him in this endeavor. When
they finished with her she was naked with her hands cuffed behind her back and
her arms pulled up by a length of rope tied off to a hook in the ceiling so that
she teetered on her toes.

	Sheriff Vlad used his standard issue baton and billy club to probe her
various orifices despite her howls and curses. This in turn led to him gagging
her with her own panties held in place by some duct tape. He then employed his
baton as a teaching tool to make her understand the seriousness of the situation
in which she found herself. Drubbing her kidneys, shouders, belly and breasts
with the baton and using the billy club to rape her cunt and asshole proved to
be most effective. Once she became more amenable to his orders he raped her
asshole and cunt to reinforce his command of the situation. Then he turned her
over to his deputies for some additional reinforcement training and education.

	She was sentenced to a three month probation period reporting to his
house every weekend beginning at sundown Friday and ending Monday morning at
daybreak. She also had to enroll in a special school run by a close associate of
the sheriff. Here she was subjected to daily training sessions that employed
films, lectures and discussions of the required reading interspersed with doses
of severe corporal punishment to her bound and naked body for any misbehaving or
deviation from the program.

	The sight of Cora's pudgy, naked body hanging from the hook in the
ceiling of the "time-out" room, covered with whip marks, was a common occurrence
at the facility. She became the school's poster child, warning the others that
this would become their fate if they too became fractious while in class. A
summary of her weekly attendance and test results were given to the sheriff at
the end of each week. These were used to determine what additional punishment
she was to receive while under his direct discipline.

	The girl was kept naked the entire period and raped repeatedly by not
only by the sheriff, but a number of his deputies who were off duty and
peforming this as a form of volunteer service, in a way giving back to the
community by pumping the teen full of semen. To make Cora understand the gravity
of the situation, no attempt was ever made by any of those engaged in having sex
with her to use any form of birth control. This was decreed to be part of her
mental punishment.

	However in the interests of fairness she was given the option of
suggesting ways that might prevent her from conceiving. Thus she was used almost
exclusively either anally, orally or accepted vigorous fisting after vaginal
intercourse. To further make her understand the attitude of law enforcement
towards the crime of prostitution, she was required to pay the sheriff and his
associates when they had sex with her. She obtained the money, which was
considerable, by posing for certain types of activities that were considered to
be well beyond local community standards. These included having sex with
animals, performing the more radical forms of water sports and the like, which
included bondage, discipline, forced sex and on occasion even being tortured.
However this last item was closely monitored by the sheriff who attended each
session when she was subjected to this activity.

	To improve her self worth and confidence, Cora was put on a strict diet
for the entire probationary period. She was ordered to submit to random weighing
conducted by a representative of the special school in which she was enrolled.
Failure to meet her required weight goal for that day meant an extension of her
probation by one week for each pound in excess of that maximum allowable weight.
Being arrested for prostitution during the probationary period was grounds for
immediate incarceration in the county farm and workhouse. Unfortunately for Cora
she was apprehended in a sting operation run by the sheriff five weeks after
being originally arrested. By then the teen had lost thirty-two pounds, but as
it turned out, this was accomplished strictly by the use of meth and other drugs
that wrung any excess water from her body, and were obtained with her earnings
as a prostitute.

	The sheriff took this setback personally. With the permission of the
local court, he was allowed to keep the teen in his personal custody for one
week before she was transferred to the workhouse. During this time he starved
the girl, beat her unconscious frequently, whipped her front and back with
various implements, had her raped dozens of times daily, kept awake with
stimulants that scrambled her mind, forced gallons of water and urine down her
throat, fisted her to the point that her reproductive organs were irreparably
damaged and had her tattooed with the word "LOSER", needled into her stomach.
The day she reached the workhouse she weighed an even 150 pounds stripped.

	Cora was strip searched often at the workhouse by those female guards
who took a liking to her. She made the mistake of resisting their advances
initially and paid the price in double work shifts. From eight in the morning
until six in the evening she worked at the farm under the blazing sun in nothing
but a loin cloth. She was shackled at all times and always had a guard nearby to
keep an eye on her or, more than likely, torment her in some way or another. One
of their favorite tricks was to dose her water with salt or worse still, an
emetic that would cause her to leave a trail of fecal matter in her wake for
hours at a time. The shift at the workhouse was just as brutal since she was
assigned to the laundry room where the temperature never fell below 110 degrees
even in the evening which was her shift, running from nine in the evening to
five in the morning wthout any break whatsoever.

	After three weeks of this treatment she became one of the girls, taking
on all comers in any hole they selected. By the time she was released from the
workhouse she weighed 115 pounds of almost solid muscle and her tits were so
firm that they barely moved even when she was running without her bra. For her
going away party the guards took her to the showers and raped her fore and aft
for nearly eight hours straight, using every toy and tool they owned and leaving
her asshole and cunt looking like two open wounds, which wasn't too far from the
truth.

	This was the person who had failed to show up on Friday night,
irritating the sheriff who took out his anger on Mimi. She dared not even wonder
what might happen to her if this girl was absent once more. As it turned out it
might have been better had Cora not appeared. Unfortunatey Vlad had pulled some
strings and about an hour after he had finished dinner a patrol car from a
neighboring county pulled up and disgorged its passenger, a disheveled and very
upset Cora Lauren. The timing was ideal since the sheriff had just finished
walloping Ms Marlowe's ass until it was a uniform crimson color and the tears
were pouring like fountains from her eyes.

	When Mimi Marlowe looked up from Vlad's lap she saw this gaunt teenager
with short black hair wearing a tight skirt, fuck-me pumps and a tube top that
outlined her big nippled tits poking proudly and braless from the elastic
fabric. For her size and weight, Cora had breasts that were rather impressive,
at least 36Cs, perhaps larger. Her face was covered with garish makeup that
looked to have been applied with a trowel. What caught Mimi was the girl's eyes,
big and almost dead looking, reminding her of those of a shark.

	The sheriff chuckled and patted the bed on which they were, the teacher
naked and still over his lap with her burning ass exposed to the world. "Nice of
you to visit us. Where were you last night? I was expecting you to help me wth
this law breaker you see across my lap. I'd like you to meet Ms Mimi Marlowe,
she's a teacher and you'll never believe what she's famous for."

	The girl took the wind out of his sails when she nodded her head and
replied, "I know who she is. I've heard lots of things about her. She's supposed
to be real cool and knows more about getting guys off than any hooker who ever
worked in the county. I'm kind of surprised that she looks so old and is kind of
skanky too." Vlad chuckled and soundly swatted his prisoner on her red ass,
bringing a sob from the embarrassed woman. Her ears burned from the comments
she'd heard from this little whore. How dare she say such things about her! This
was just the opening salvo of an evening that would humiliate Mimi Marlowe to
the maximum.


				( To be continued)

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