Message-ID: <7639eli$9804061157@qz.little-neck.ny.us> From: Andrew Roller Subject: Sum 16 Summer of Sin part 16 of 20 (NND) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: roller666@earthlink.net Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <3528474D.4FD5@earthlink.net> --------------------------------------------------------------- PROBLEMS? Please try viewing this with Netscape Navigator. --------------------------------------------------------------- _/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/ Andrew Roller Presents NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS in SUMMER OF SIN _/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/ Chapter Sixteen Sister Mary was leading me to the bedroom I’d been assigned, to wash all the honey off me, when I thought I heard something outside. I slowed my steps and paused. Sister Mary yanked fiercely on my arm. “Come along, child!” she said impatiently. “I must prepare your dinner. I must give you your bath. I have much to do and--” she broke off in mid-sentence. I rubbed my shoulder where she’d pulled at my arm. She heard it too. “Someone’s coming,” I breathed. I felt a wave of relief wash over me. I heard horses. Horses! I saw, in my mind’s eye, a gallant knight leaping down from his steed and rescuing me from these two priests and their rude serving woman. “I say? What is that?” Father Brannigan said, hurrying into the hall. He pushed at his erect penis as he walked, attempting to stuff it back into his clerical robes. He grimaced, somehow managing to get himself in, and yanked on his zipper. Father Virgil followed, struggling with his own big penis. Father Brannigan opened the front door. A figure was already on the porch outside. She stormed into the foyer. Father Virgil gave a surprised shout and found himself face-to-face with a woman, with his dick hanging out of his pants. “Sister Lilith!” Father Brannigan roared. The light from the bright afternoon outside flooded into the dark foyer of the house. I could make out only the shape of an outline. A nun’s habit, robes showed in outline against the door. Suddenly the nun lifted her hand up to her head and tore off her habit. A mass of blonde hair tumbled freely down over her shoulders. She stepped deeper into the house. A man entered behind her. He closed the door. Quietly he removed his hat. I saw he was a work man. He was dressed in overalls. He held in his hand a whip, large and sinuous. It was clutched efficiently in his big, gnarled hands. I expected him to gaze at me with interest but instead he lowered his eyes, meekly. My own gaze returned to the woman. She stood before us, almost as tall as the two priests. Twin eyes, large and passionate, burned in her face. They were blue, blue as the sky, and deep as the bowl of sunlit heaven. “Father Brannigan and Father Virgil, I presume?” the woman asked. She was young, for a nun. She might have been 25, but no more. In fact, I guessed, she might have been younger than 25, but the mature manner of her bearing made her look older. (I later learned she was just 19. Indeed, her bearing and composure gave her a sophistication far beyond her years. She was exceedingly bright too; her intelligence had given her a position of power and prominence at the convent. She already had three years’ worth of work done toward a college degree.) With flashing, inquisitive eyes, Sister Lilith quickly sized up the four of us. Father Brannigan, clearing his throat, sounding like an old goat caught doing something perverted; Father Virgil, haplessly erect, displaying his penis to her penetrating gaze, myself with honey smeared all over my titties and cunt, and cat’s pee on my belly. “You two have been using this old, neglected piece of church property to entertain yourselves with young girls,” Sister Lilith said accusingly to the two priests. Both men, despite being older than her, flinched and figeted under her stare. “We, ah, took it over from Father Slade,” Father Brannigan said. He cleared his throat again. “We’re examining the Flesh,” Father Virgil offered, showing quite a hunk of his own flesh through the zipper of his pants. “One must know the properties of the Flesh if one is to lead it away from Sin, and toward the will of God,” Father Brannigan said. Sister Lilith brushed past the two men. She walked over to me. She looked down at me. I trembled under her stare. The men’s gig was up; I knew that. They would be in deep trouble. Perhaps she’d have them sent off to prison. I guessed all this in a minute; I hadn’t watched every episode of America’s Most Wanted for nothing! With a strange, sinking feeling, thinking all that, I realized Sister Lilith’s eyes were no longer fixed on my face. She was gazing at my breasts. “What is your name?” Sister Lilith asked, intending, perhaps, to lift her eyes again to my face, asking me that question. But instead her eyes remained (involuntarily?) fixed to my twin bosoms. She wound up addressing her question to my mammaries. “Chloe,” I answered in a meek voice. “Father Brannigan and Father Virgil are well-built, don’t you think?” Sister Lilith asked my breasts. “Yes,” I said. I lifted a finger nervously to my mouth and sucked tensely on it. What was this woman up to? “I won’t interfere, if you don’t want me to,” Sister Lilith said. Her eyes still gazed with complete interest at my bosoms. I wondered if she herself, for all her intelligence, realized that some strange passion had seized her and caused her to talk to my tits. “I--” I began. “You wish to have them to yourself. I understand,” Sister Lilith said. “I accept that. But--” with a force of will she suddenly broke her gaze from my clinging bare bosoms. They looked with intense penetration into my eyes. I drew back, frightened. I bumped into Sister Mary, standing behind me, and found I could go no further. “I want a piece of your ass too,” Sister Lilith told me. I felt a tremble run up my spine. It made my hips wiggle. It made the twin pointed tips of my bosoms shimmy like two gourds caught in a storm. I felt a tempest inside me. Lilith, I think, was equally shaken by tempestuous thoughts of her own. “I have been studying too much,” Lilith said. There was a sudden gentleness in her eyes. Her hand reached out to me. It palmed across my ribs. Her fingers tickled me. I laughed. She smiled, not meaning to tickle me but liking how I broke into laughter at her touch. She lifted her hand upward. She seemed to count my ribs as her fingers passed over them. She cupped my breast. She squeezed it, my right breast, hard. As if it were hers and she owned it. “May I?” Sister Lilith asked me, her hand too tight on my breast, clamping its fullness within the slender confines of her fingers. The extruding portion of my tit seemed to offer itself to her. My nipples became exceedingly hard, on both my tits. “Umn--” was all I managed to say, before Lilith bent her head low and caught at my nipple tip with her tongue. “Oooooh!” I shouted. I tried to wriggle free. I could not escape her fingers, clasping the mound of my right breast. Lilith’s tongue licked hard and fast at my nipple, then slow, then quickly again. Expert, delicious. I felt a moistness gather between my legs. My honey-coating was sticky there already, but now it grew stickier. “Mmmm,” Lilith said. She lifted her mouth from my bosom. There was honey on her lips. “I shall let you keep both your priests,” Lilith told me. I saw the honey from my tit glistening on her tongue. She let me see her tongue as she talked, lisping, perhaps purposely, loving the thrill of desire that must have been coursing through her. “Yes, keep your men, with their penises,” Lilith said to me. “But I want you. I know it’s a sin. But you are so lovely. I want your tight little ass in bed with me and I want to do utterly depraved things to it.” Lilith gazed at me with her bright, intelligent eyes. I knew, without even knowing her yet, that she didn’t choose her words randomly, like you or I might, guessing at their true meaning as we speak them. She knew exactly what she was saying. She knew, even, I think, the old French and English roots of the words she was speaking to me. I felt myself nodding. I have no idea why, now. But my head bobbed and I agreed to her terms, without saying a word. Then my lips opened, and I searched for my voice to try to amend what I’d done, but Lilith’s finger pressed itself over my mouth. “NO,” Lilith said, her voice as strong and direct as a mommie’s. “Let it be perfect,” she said. “Perfect consent. I like that. I like you.” Lilith drew up. She regarded me. She glanced at Sister Mary. “Why stand thou idly in the hall, woman?” Sister Lilith asked. There was a masculine lilt to Lilith’s words, but they were spoken in a high, obviously feminine voice. They were the words of one grown used to power in the convent, amongst the nuns. “I was about to bathe her, ma’am,” Sister Mary said to Sister Lilith. “Yes. Obviously she needs a bath,” Sister Lilith said. “She has been playing with the priests. Look. Her stockings have runs in them. Has someone struck her belly? Her legs? Turn around, girl. Let me see your bottom.” I obeyed. Sister Lilith’s hands encompassed my small hips. I heard a rustling in her robes behind me. Her leg bent, her knee came forward, her right knee. It jammed itself quite suddenly up between the cheeks of my ass. “Oook!” I said, sounding like a mouse suddenly captured and torn by a cat. Sister Lilith’s knee was surprisingly thin; it dug inbetween the cheeks of my bottom. “Oh, how springy and young and perfect her ass is,” Sister Lilith said, to no one in particular, but making me blush quite fiercely because she spoke of me as if I were something she’d just purchased, as in a store. “Flawless,” Sister Lilith said. “How I wish I had but one more leg, long and thin, that I could plant between such delicious cheeks as these.” She smacked her lips. “What a pity to have nothing but a tongue.” I felt her toss her mane of hair, as she stood behind me. She drew me closer, pressed her knee deeper. I uttered a yelp. “And various toys,” Sister Lilith said in a throaty, lowered voice. “Barren unfeeling toys that tell me nothing about what they’re exploring.” She pressed her knee even deeper, still holding me by my hips. I cried out and wriggled hard in an attempt to break free of her, but it only pressed her knee deeper into the cleft of my soft captured bottom. “How I wish I were a man!” Sister Lilith cried suddenly. Then she dropped her knee. I turned, quickly, lest she try doing me with her other knee. I looked at her accusingly. Sister Lilith palmed my belly. My gaze softened. Her hand was so firm, so commanding! And yet it felt me with a woman’s touch; as if to inquire, with only the tenderness that a woman could, whether I had a baby growing surreptitiously inside the flatness of my tummy. She’d found me, after all, with two horny priests, their cocks obviously tumescent. “You are... not.. pregant?” Sister Lilith asked, pressing her palm hard to my tummy. “No,” I breathed. She looked at me with renewed interest. “You are not just some country girl, are you?” Sister Lilith asked. “At first I took you for some poor country wench, but you sound, your accent--” “I’m an American!” I said proudly. “Oh!” Lilith said. “So you are. Yes. The accent gives it away now. My little American friend. Will you be that for me, hmmm? I so dearly love you. I have no idea why.” “It’s alright,” I said. I felt a wave of tenderness well up in me. “Are you an important nun?” Lilith nodded. “Too important for my years. And too weary of it all, too. May I play with you a little, hmmm?” I don’t think she knew how to ask it any other way. She’d been isolated in a convent, knew not how to socialize and circle around a subject before posing the question. “I am-- visiting for a few days,” I managed to say, feeling very awkward in admitting my possible complicity in being here. “That’s fine. So fine,” Lilith said. She bent and kissed me on my cheek. “Go and have your bath then, hmmm? I won’t interfere between you and your men. It’s you I want. You’ll find yourself beset now by three men. Think of it that way.” She looked over her shoulder. “Oh.” She smiled. “He’s just my coach man, the man standing there with the whip. Robert. He’ll not lay a hand on you, I assure you. He’s lower class.” She kissed me again. Sister Mary, sensing it was wished, drew me away. Lilith smiled at me, then turned to Father Brannigan and Father Virgil. I was drawn trippingly down the hall by Sister Mary, gazing back behind me. “As for you two,” Sister Lilith said. “Come, child,” Sister Mary told me. We rounded a corner in the hall and I heard not what Lilith said afterward. My bath finished, I stepped out of the tub. Sister Mary told me to dry myself; she had to hurry and fix dinner for us. The sun was growing low, dipping into the trees out beyond the fenceline. I walked to the window. It was open. The curtains of the bedroom fluttered. Naked, I stood at the window, letting the air of the afternoon wash over me, clutching my towel, not using it. I peered down into the grass of the back yard. A stunning sight greeted my eyes. I realized, with a shiver in my tailbone, that I would never have witnessed such a spectacle if Sister Lilith had not arrived. Robert, the coach man, was hammering twin stakes into the back yard. One was already in the ground, its end sticking up. The other was being driven in now, by a mallet he was holding. The sound of the mallet striking the iron stake resounded throughout the backyard. Father Virgil, meanwhile, the cutest of the two priests, walked with languid steps into the back yard. He was utterly naked. His thing stuck out in front of him like a frozen salami. The hot afternoon sun bathed him. It highlighted his nude muscles. I felt my hand touch my belly as I watched him. I felt a desire to have him *right there*, in me, flexing hard and pumping me full. Father Virgil carried a blue towel. He unfurled it and laid it upon the grass. He sat down on it, his naked buttocks pressing against the soft down of the towel, and looked over at the coach man. The big man smiled, briefly, then finished hammering the second iron stake into the ground. Sister Lilith appeared. She walked across the lawn. Her nun’s habit and robes were gone. Instead, she wore a sun bonnet, broad-brimmed. A black ribbon dangled down off the back of it. She looked like a girl going to church, wearing it, I thought. Her arms and her chest were clad in a black leather jacket, however. It was soft, supple leather. It molded her body. I saw with a gasp of surprise that she had large breasts. Her robes had not revealed that aspect of her to me downstairs in the foyer. Below the waistline of her jacket she wore almost nothing, just a very skimpy matching black leather pair of panties. Her legs were long, lanky, tanned. She wore spiked heels on her feet. Around her waist there was a slender cord. From it, hanging down off her waist and boucing stiffly alongside her thigh, was a riding crop. Lilith drew a bottle of sun tan lotion from a side pocket of her jacket. At the same time, she unzipped the front of her jacket. Twin breasts, both quite white, in contrast to her long tanned legs and hips, spilled from her jacket. She wore no bra. Lilith matter-of-factly uncapped the sun tan lotion and squirted a generous stream of lotion all over her breasts. Her jacket was not unzipped completely and the sight of her twin breasts extruding through it was erotic in the extreme. When she’d anointed her tits, and was beginning to rub in the lotion, she tossed the uncapped bottle to Father Virgil. He caught it. “The sun is still hot,” I heard Sister Lilith say in the silence of the backyard. “Spread it on yourself. Especially your cock and balls. The rest doesn’t matter, but those must be protected. I don’t wish to see little Chloe-- is that her name? I don’t wish to see her denied the pleasure of your equipment because you let it get sunburned.” Father Virgil obediently aimed the bottle of lotion at his dick. He squeezed it. A shot of white, sperm-colored coconut oil spurted onto the long shaft of Father Virgil’s penis. He aimed lower and squirted the lotion on his balls. As the coach man watched, wearing his crisp overalls and holding his mallet, his work done, Father Virgil massaged his testicals in front of the man, and Sister Lilith. Father Brannigan appeared. He was dressed in clerical robes, as before, when he’d begun my training. His cock was buried somewhere inside his pants. He strolled out onto the lawn. He carried a black bag in his hands. I had no idea what was in it. It sent a thrill of fright through me. He looked like a doctor, come to see a patient. “May I watch?” Father Brannigan asked. Sister Lilith turned, her golden hair catching the sunlight, seeming to shower her body with pure golden rays. “If you wish,” Sister Lilith said nonchalantly. Father Virgil, his testicals and penis glowing with fresh coconut oil, lay down on the powder blue towel. He stretched himself on the towel and seemed to draw comfort from the softness of it, underneath him. I watched his nude muscles flex. “Spread your legs, please,” Sister Lilith told Father Virgil. She unhooked her long whippy riding crop from her waist and batted at Father Virgil’s knees with it. He opened his legs. “Wider,” I heard her say. Father Virgil, his penis sticking up like a tower of Babel between from his crotch, opened his legs until they were as wide as the stakes which were hammered into the ground at the foot of his towel. “Bind his feet,” Sister Lilith told her coach man. The man in the overalls gave an amused smirk. There was rope lying on the ground and he picked it up. Father Brannigan set down his black bag in the grass. Lilith turned to him. “Go turn on the sprinkler,” she said. “I wish to permit him some coolness. The water will cool his nakedness as he’s lying here.” Father Brannigan nodded. He was turning away from her when Lilith looked up. She caught sight of me in the window, staring. “Wait,” Sister Lilith said. Father Brannigan, walking away, paused. “I want you undressed to,” she said. Father Brannigan scowled. “I ask you for a fuck, you tell me ‘no.’ Then you tell Virgil to doff his clothes, and now me? Make up your mind, woman. I’m hard as stone and--” “I’m aware of your male needs,” Lilith answered. “Undress. Put your robes away in the house and come back out here. Naked. I want you bare for our friend.” She glanced up at me. Father Brannigan followed her gaze. He nodded. “We must not forget her,” Father Brannigan agreed. “No, we must not,” Lilith said. Father Brannigan had just disappeared into the house when Sister Mary came into my bedroom. I turned; she presented me with a glass of water, a straw neatly placed in it. In her other hand she held a small pill. “Here, this is for you,” Sister Mary said. “You are to be fucked, but you must not conceive. The pope would never agree, but--” I took the glass. I sipped on its straw. The water was cold. I heard a sound of a sprinkler coming to life outside. I drew the small tablet out of Sister Mary’s hand. I popped it on my tongue. I sipped again from the straw. I swallowed. “What must be, must be,” I said softly. “Come, child, they are waiting,” Sister Mary said. Downstairs, out on the lawn, the sprinkler was wetting the grass. It had been set on ‘slow.’ With each languid pass it left a sprinkling of water droplets on Father Virgil. He lay nude and husky on the towel in the grass. His legs were spread. His ankles were tied off to the twin stakes the coach man had hammered into the ground. His cock stuck up stiff and tall, all oily from the suntan lotion. Sister Lilith, dressed in her black leather jacket and panties, stood over him. She let the sprinkler wet her legs. She didn’t mind. With the end of her riding crop she poked at Father Virgil’s testicals. “Your sac is full,” Sister Lilith told Father Virgil. He gazed up at her. “We are not permitted to masturbate, or to fuck,” Father Virgil said calmly. He seemed untroubled by the intrusiveness of the woman’s crop bouncing off his taut balls. Lilith swung back her implement and brought it in with a quick blow. She looked like she was trying to flick at a golf ball with one hand, except instead of a club she was using a crop, instead of looking the size of a golf ball Father Virgil’s testicals tended more in size toward that of a softball. “Ow,” Father Virgil said. “Mmmm, how your sac quivers when I strike it,” Sister Lilith said admiringly. “Truly, you must not have cum in many days sir. Weeks?” Her question hung on the air. I gazed between her open legs at the sight of Father Virgil’s big prick sticking up. “Months,” Father Virgil said. His voice groaned as he spoke. “You are quite a trooper to allow such a heavy load to accumulate between your legs,” Sister Lilith said. “Is Father Brannigan equally gifted in restraining himself?” “No,” Father Virgil said. “He jacks off sometimes.” “What a pity,” Sister Lilith said. “He sticks his thing out the back window and does it when he thinks the cows in the field behind us are looking,” Father Virgil said. I came around and stood at his legs. They made a wide vee before me, on the softness of his towel. The sprinkler was slowly wetting the powder blue towel and the muscled expanse of his thighs, his calves, his chest. His groin gleamed, showing its spire in the rose-hued light of the western sun. Father Brannigan came out of the house. We all glanced toward him. He walked boldly. He showed us the full erect form of his cock as he walked matter-of-factly toward us. It bobbed; beneath it his balls hung heavy and full. “Chloe,” Sister Lilith said, turning to me. She smiled. “How sweet you look! Fresh from your bath. I promised you both men and I won’t go back on my word. They are both full from months of abstinence and its time they relieved themselves. You are not virgin, I am told. How fortunate! I want you to turn so that Father Virgil can see your bottom. Turn around! Yes. So lovely. You will mount him that way, your bottom pointing at his face. Then you will use your hands, which will be free, to squeeze his balls. I want all his sperm to go up you. Everything he can offer. Of course, you are free to pleasure yourself as well. At the same time, with his hands free, Father Virgil will be able to easily finger your cunny and your fine tits. It should be quite pleasurable for you both.” She glanced behind her at Father Brannigan, who stalked up to us. “As for this one,” Lilith said. “He will put his thing to your mouth as you’re sitting backwards on Father Virgil, Chloe. Take as much of him as you can; but don’t gag. At the same time, use your hands to squeeze his balls also. I want both men to squirt themselves fully into you, Chloe. They will be more compliant with my wishes once I’ve let them give off some steam. Not that they’ve dared be disobedient up ‘til now,” she added, with a smile. Drawing me close, Sister Lilith reached between my legs. She felt my slit. She kissed my cheek as she felt me. She tickled me hard between my cuntlips and made me moisten my pubis with my juices. When I was ready, she mounted me on Father Virgil. It was strange, watching that big thing rise up between my legs as Lilith forced me to squat. Then it was pushing into me, I was gasping, resisting. But Lilith pressed hard on the frail width of my shoulders and forced me down, forced me to take it. Father Brannigan, strumming his cock with his hand, waited beside me with eager eyes. We fucked. We were sprayed with cooling draughts from the lawn sprinkler as we did it. The sun slowly sank below the horizon. Lilith taunted both men with her crop, making sure they gave me their all. Sister Mary and the coach man watched from a distance, said nothing. I was inundated with sperm. Imagine my embarrassment when, finished at last, I turned my face upward toward Sister Lilith and looked at her, Father Brannigan’s sperm running down from my mouth and coursing down my chin, to join a white milky splattering of drippings that already coated my breasts. My inner thighs were covered in Father Virgil’s product. There was a pool of his jism beneath his spread-apart legs, where they grew into his crotch. His balls, spent, hung loosely between his legs. His cock threaded me still, growing less fierce now, but still filling me with its long throbbing pulsations. Lilith bent down and grasped me under my arms. She lifted me up. “I did gook,” I said, mangling the word ‘good’. “Yes, you did fine,” Lilith said. She kissed my cheek, trying to avoid Father Brannigan’s sperm, that was smeared all over it. “Tonight we’ll turn in early, just you and I, and I’ll have your remaining hole,” she told me in a soft, but no-nonsense voice. I felt a desperate sense of fear seize me, making my bottom tighten. Yet I remained unresistant, letting her draw me up until I felt the snake of Father Virgil’s penis slip out of me. Sister Lilith put her hand between my legs. “Are you sore?” she asked, rubbing me. “Yes,” I admitted. She kissed me again. “God, you have sperm all over you!” Lilith said. She set me on my feet. I was unsteady. “Go open the black bag, if you can. Bring me what’s in it,” Lilith smiled. “Waht’s in it?” I asked, dazed. “You’ll see,” Lilith said. The coach man came forward. He knew his lady’s mind. He untied Father Virgil’s feet. At the same time, I opened the black bag. I gasped. Inside was a very long black dildo! There was leather strapping tucked into the bag too, so that someone could easily put the dildo on and wear it. I only knew of one person here who required that: Lilith! “I must practise on your bottom, so I don’t hurt little Chloe when I do the same to her tonight, after dinner,” Lilith told Father Virgil. “Get on your knees. Show me those tight buns of yours. I’m going to plant my flag between them.” “You’ll never do that to me!” Father Brannigan said. “I didn’t ask you. Keep your hairy ass to yourself,” Lilith sniffed. With trembling hands I drew the long fierce-looking dildo out of the bag. I brought it to Lilith. “Thank you, Chloe,” Lilith said. She took it from me. I watched with awe-struck eyes as she strapped it on. Father Virgil waited, kneeling now, the sprikler wetting his bottom with each of its passes. “Tie me in back,” Lilith told me. She turned. She showed me the lovely womanly expanse of her ass. Above, where her waist was quite narrow, the belt of her dildo harness needed to be laced together. I went to her and tied it on for her. My fingers shivered. Tonight I would have to do the same, so she could fuck me! I could hardly believe I’d been induced to go along with such a thing. I felt sure something would intervene. Surely we woulnd’t... just two girls? Alone? Father Brannigan sported a grin and bent low over Father Virgil and squirted suntan lotion into the crack between his buns. “What th--?” Father Virgil asked. “Just trying to help, old boy,” Father Brannigan laughed. He pushed a finger into Father Virgil’s bottom and oiled his hole. “Don’t!” Father Virgil gritted. “You’ll have bigger than this in a minute,” Father Brannigan said. “And much more humiliating too, in my opinion. Imagine, a man being fucked by a woman!” “Don’t mention it to any of the other priests, okay?” Father Virgil said. “Why no, never!” Father Brannigan assured him. But there was a big grin on his face, and I didn’t trust him. 30 ----------------------- Dreamgirls! ----------------------- -Back issues (and stories): type http://www.dejanews.com/ into your browser’s “Location” window. Press your “return” key. Click on “Power Search” in the middle of the screen. Next, Type in: roller39@idt.net in the box that appears. Click on “find” (the button to the right of the box). -Or search using: roller666@earthlink.net -Other providers: Usenet Newsgroup: alt.sex.stories.moderated or by e-mail: file.request@backdrop.com or via the Web: http://www.netusa.net/files/Authors/eli/www/erotica/assm/ -When visiting Barnes and Noble, ask for: Jock Sturges’ Radiant Identities and David Hamilton’s The Age of Innocence. Support art! - JOIN the world’s greatest organization! Send $35.00 to The North American Man/Boy Love Association for a one-year membership. NAMBLA, P.O. Box 174, Midtown Station, New York, NY 10018. -Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is copyright 1998 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. -END OF story EMISSION http://www.barnesandnoble.com -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us |