Message-ID: <75.repost$980807050143@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: john_dark@anon.nymserver.com Subject: {Twassel}JDR"The Better To ..."()[1/1] Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <6qbvcs$di5$1@sparky.wolfe.net> JOHN DARK REPOST The following story is posted for the entertainment of adults. If you are below the age of eighteen or are otherwise forbidden to read electronic erotic fiction in your locality, please delete this message now. The story codes in the subject line are intended to inform readers of possible areas that some might find distasteful, but neither the poster nor the author make any guarantee. You should be aware that the story might raise other matters that you find distasteful. You read at your own risk. The enjoyment of these reposts can be increased by reading the "Coming Attractions," which includes the titles to be reposted in the next week. These stories have not been written by the person posting them. Many of those e-mail addresses below the author's byline still work. If you liked the story, either drop the author a line at that e-mail address or post a comment to alt.sex.stories.d. Please don't post it to alt.sex.stories itself. Posting the comment with a Cc: to the author would be the best way to encourage them to continue entertaining you. The copyright of this story belongs to the author, and the fact of this posting should not be construed as limiting or releasing these rights in any way. In most cases, the author will have further notices of copyright below. If you keep the story, *PLEASE* keep the copyright disclaimer as well. ===================== Mat Twassel has given John Dark permission to repost this story. This story is copyright by the author. ===================== The Better To ... by M M Twassel On a beautifully mild fall afternoon a trim convertible scooted into a little filling station just off the rural highway. The driver, a lithe young woman of at most nineteen, parked her sports car in front of the single self- service pump and got out and stretched and looked around. It was the middle of nowhere. Hills of color-heavy forest loomed all around. Crickets munched the hot air. The cinderblock building squatted in the sun, its broad pane of glass catching the glare full-face, showing the girl nothing but golden light. The young woman shrugged her thin shoulders and lightly shook her mane of rich red hair; and then she filled the tank, and went inside the little hut to pay. "Yummy day, isn't it?" said the cashier, herself a young woman barely into her twenties. "You shore do have the reddest hair," the cashier said as she counted out the change, placing each bill carefully into the girl's small palm. "Red as those trees out there... Beautiful beyond for sure!" The girl's face reddened a touch and she brushed her hand across a few stray strands. "Thank you," she said. Two coins slipped from her grasp; the copper circlets clattered and jingled against the counter top before wobbling to a stop. "What a nice noise they make!" the cashier remarked, "I love when they do that little dance." The girl smiled at the gas station woman. "And what beautiful big eyes you have, so green and glinty." Again the girl blushed. "Don't tell me you're not used to compliments! A beauty like you?" The girl looked down shyly. "I guess I'm just tired from all the driving and jittery from too much coffee. Do you, uh, have a bathroom I could use?" "Right back there, honey, just help yourself." A moment later the girl came out of the cubby. "Did you have a good pee?" the cashier grinned. "It shore did sound like it." "Oh God!" the girl said, blushing again, "Was I that loud?" The cashier grinned wider. "I've been told I've got big ears, but don't you worry: that sweet little gurgle of yours was no more loud than the trickle of a baby brook. Forgive me, I just wanted to see you blush one more time. You look so delicious all red and flushed like that." "You're making me do it again," the girl said, laughing lightly, but yes, blushing. "I know! I'm mean, aren't I?" The girl nodded, adding a shy smile. "I'm Sara," the cashier said, offering a hand of long slim fingers, the nails clean and sharp and colorless. "Annie," said the girl, touching the woman's fingers lightly with her own. "Hi, Annie, so nice to meet you. Are you going far?" "Well," Annie said, "I hope not too far. Do you know where Hunters Road is?" "Shore do!" Sara said. "Right up in those hills. 'Course it's kinda tricky to get to. What do you want with Hunters Road?" "My boyfriend's grandma has a cabin up there. He's arranged for us to use it for a few days." The girl suddenly blushed deeply. "That is so sweet," Sara said. "Is your boyfriend up there now?" "I don't think so," Annie said. "Bard had some family business in the city. He said if I got to the cabin first there'd be a key under the mat." "That wouldn't be Bobbie Bard?" Sara said. "Your boyfriend?" "You know him?" "We've had our little spot of history," Sara said. "Nothing monumental or momentous. Nothing that couldn't be fixed." "Robert, I mean Professor Bard was, uh, is my history professor up at college." "Oh," Sara said, "Figures. Is he a good teacher?" "He's very patient," Annie said. "Mm," Sara hummed. "Patient and persistent." "Uh-huh," Sara said. "The Bard I remember, well, I would've picked a different p-word... one that rhymes with ick." "Oh no," Annie said, "Bard is gentle and wise and understanding." "Maybe he's mellowed some," Sara conceded. "Is he a good lover?" Annie squeaked softly. "We haven't, um, we haven't actually..." "Been to bed?" Sara said. Annie nodded. "I see," Sara said. "So you're planning on doing it this weekend, you and your Professor Bard, in Grandma's big bed?" "Oh, no!" Annie insisted, "We're more along the lines of just good friends, you know? Robert's going to bring his sister and everything." "His sister, huh?" Sara said. "Yes, I haven't met her yet... I guess she's about my age or a little older." "Mm.. Well, I can tell you exactly how to get up to that cabin," Sara said. "But if I were you, I'd be sure to bring along a little protection." "Protection?" Annie said. "You mean like ... condoms? I told you Robert and I weren't...aren't..." "Protection like this," Sara said. From behind the counter, she drew out a gold-plated pistol. Stray sunlight danced along the gleam of the long barrel. "You want to borrow this baby?" Sara asked, hefting it playfully. "Ugh, I hate guns," Annie said, shivering slightly; and Sara couldn't help noticing the light little ripple of Annie's breasts brushing her blouse. "You're sure?" "I'm sure." "It's beautiful up there in the woods," Sara said, "Beautiful, but wild... in fact, there's rumors of a madman roaming those very woods." "Madman?" "Probably just a story." "Oh." "Although some people HAVE disappeared." "Really!" "Naw, I'm just teasin' you. Still..." Sara waved the gun. "Thanks but no thanks," Annie said. "I'm a big girl. I can be brave. I can take care of myself." "Well, then, best follow my directions carefully," Sara said sternly. "We may have rounded up all the madmen, but there's still plenty of lions and tigers and bears." Then she giggled. "When all is said and done, it might be a good idea to stick close to the path... and don't talk to strangers!" Annie smiled and said thank you and waved goodbye. A moment after Annie's convertible pulled onto the highway, Sara flipped the store-window sign to closed, hopped into her pickup, and chugged up the steep back roads. *** The key, sure enough, was under the mat. Sara unlocked the door and put the key in the back pocket of her jeans. It took only a moment for her to fix things inside the cabin; then she backed her truck down the lane and onto Hunters Road. She drove a few hundred yards down the hill, parked, and waited. About twenty minutes later Sara heard the snug purr of Annie's convertible coming along the road from the opposite direction. Sara's fingers tightened on the steering wheel of her truck, but she sat still until she heard the little car's engine shut off. Then she started up her pickup and drove to the little cabin, parking directly behind Annie's car. Annie was standing on the porch, her hands on her hips. "Why did you follow me?" Annie said. There was anger mixed with puzzlement in her bright green eyes. "The key's not here. I looked. I looked under the mat and it's not there. It's not anywhere. What are you doing here? What should I do? I'm sorry. Shit. God. Shit." "Hush," Sara said softly, stepping up to Annie. "Hush." She touched the girl on the delicate point of her shoulder, then moved her fingers slowly inward towards the thin neck. She crossed the little ridge of fabric onto bare skin, and Annie shivered. Sara's fingers moved slowly up the slope, all the way to the little earlobe, unadorned, bare under the bright red hair. Annie stood still as if momentarily paralyzed by Sara's touch. Sara gave the girl's earlobe a small squeeze before withdrawing her hand, breaking the spell. "But the key's not there!" Annie said. She looked bewildered, helpless, almost about to sob. "I know," Sara said. "I know. You know what I think?" "What?" Annie asked... her big eyes wide with hope and interest. "I think you have a really nice perfume." "Huh? But I'm... I don't..." Sara pressed her finger against Annie's lips. "Shy and quiet and a little woodsy, like a soft place in a deep forest, a secret place untouched by man, with just a wet little hint of want." "I'm not wearing any perfume," Annie blurted, and then she bit her plump lower lip between her teeth, the tip of her tongue touching the spot where Sara's finger had rested an instant before. "Oh ho," Sara said, eyes sparkling, "I'm known for my sharp nose." She grinned boldly. "I wouldn't make that up about your smell. Fear and excitement do a good job of bringing up the flavor." Sara moved her fingers slowly towards Annie's face, but the girl brushed them away. "Who cares about my smell," she said angrily, "The key's not under the mat. He said the key would be under the mat and it isn't." "Don't yelp," Sara said. "Maybe he just lied. Men will do that you know. Or maybe someone took it." "I've been driving all day," Annie said. I'm hot and sticky and all I want to do is get inside and take a long hot bath." Sara chuckled. "What's so funny?" Sara gave a girlish snort. "Your long hot bath. There's no bathtub in there. Cabins like these don't have bathrooms." "They don't?" "Not even running water. No electricity. No phones. Nothing. I told you, it's wickedly wild up here." "How am I supposed to wash?" Sara snorted again. "You're more than clean enough for these woods. You could stumble across some springs lower down, but even in mid-summer that water's icy." Annie choked back a sniffle, and then in a small but not quite calm voice said, "How come you followed me?" Sara smiled. She allowed some mid-afternoon sunlight to soak into the silence. "Woman's intuition," she said at last. "I just wanted to be sure you were safe; that you didn't lose your way." "Oh," Annie said, and then as an after-thought, "Thanks, but your directions were just perfect... as you can see I got here just fine... for all the good it did me. I guess I'll just sit here and wait for Bard." "Also, I thought maybe I ought to try one more time to convince you to borrow the gun," Sara said, and she patted her shoulder bag. Annie glared at her. "You know how I feel about that." "Ok, ok. But I do have something else for you." Sara reached into the pocket of her jeans. She opened her fist. Two bright pennies. "You forgot your change." "You drove all the way up here to give me two cents!" "Yeah!" "What a silly thing!" "That's me, Silly Sara." "Ok, Silly Sara," Annie said, taking the coins. "Two shiny pennies--now what should I do with them?" "Hold one in each hand, for luck, and don't let go until I tell you to." Annie laughed, and she held tightly to the coins. *** For a few minutes Sara and Annie sat next to one another on the small stoop of the porch. They watched a warm breeze toy with the treetops, and a pair of pale yellow butterflies worrying a patch of wildflowers. Annie didn't seem to know where to rest her hands. "Have you tried the windows?" Sara suggested. Two windows flanked the front door. Sara grunted with effort but neither window would gave an inch. "The fuckers are either locked," Sara said, "Or swollen shut." Sara and Annie stepped around to the east wall and found the window there also bolted firm. The back of the cabin had no windows, only a big stone chimney. But near the crown of the west wall they saw one small window--it glimmered gold with sunlight. "It's awfully high up," Annie said, "And much too tight." "You don't know what you can't squeeze into 'til you try," Sara said, and with her right hand she swatted herself twice on the tight plump rear of her britches. "Besides, you're so slim, I bet you could slip through with barely a wiggle." Annie looked doubtful. "It looks smaller than it is," Sara said, "Perspective can fool you." "It's too high up," Annie announced, a slight scoff in her voice. "And probably locked anyway. Why don't we just throw a rock through one of the front windows?" "I wouldn't recommend that," Sara said, "Not unless you feel like being dinner for 17 million mosquitoes. I think we should at least try that west window." "It's too high," Annie repeated. "I could boost you," Sara said. "If you stood on my shoulders you could reach it easy! What's the harm in trying?" "What am I supposed to do, just climb up you?" "That's right, climb right up... Only first you're going to have to take off your skirt. You can't climb in that." "Oh no," Annie said with a laugh, "I couldn't." "Why not? Is it glued on? Come on, it's just us girls here. I've seen plenty of girls in just their panties before." "The thing is...you see... I'm not wearing any... panties." "Oh." "I know it's wicked, but when I'm driving I like to feel the air, the rush of it. Aren't I horrible?" "Oh no," Sara said. "I think it's wonderful." "But I feel so ashamed," Annie said. "You shouldn't," Sara said. "You have the most beautiful body. There's nothing shameful about it." "You think so?" "Definitely!" "Well, I still don't think I can take my skirt off." "Would it help if I took my jeans off first?" "I don't see how," Annie said. "Simple," Sara said, and she shucked her jeans right down and stepped out of them, and then she drew down her panties and stepped out of them as well. "That's not what I meant," Annie said, unable to keep her eyes from Sara's dark pelt, a thick delta of shiny black hair dipping between her legs." "So smooth and sleek," Annie whispered, and then bit her lower lip. "Just pussy fur," Sara said. "No big deal. Now you." "I've never..." "Would it help if I helped?" Sara asked, and when Annie didn't answer, Sara knelt before the girl, and slowly pulled the skirt down. "Step out of it," Sara instructed. Tentatively, the girl complied. "Ooh," Sara crooned. "Special. Just the way I knew it would be. What a fiery little cowl of cunt hair you have. So neatly wild and snug and soft-looking. I'm honored, Annie, I shorely am honored." Sara brushed her lips against the fierce puff, and then turned her face to let the pudendal fleece caress her cheek. "Ah," she said, sighing from deep within, "Turn now and let me see your butt, and then we'll be done with it." Sara's hands, firm but gentle on the girl's hips, helped her through the pivot. "Pretty," Sara said, standing up behind Annie. "So high up and pert and perfect." She stood there for a moment letting her black bush graze against Annie's little bottom. "Well," Sara laughed, "We might as well strip off our tops and be completely bare--these ARE the woods, after all." Annie didn't answer, didn't move a muscle. Sara pulled off her own jersey and unhooked her bra and let these tangle in the crude grass beside her jeans. "Sun and air is such a fine thing for woman flesh," Sara said. "I don't see how anyone survives in the city." Annie kept her position facing the west wall of the cabin, the tiny high-up window looking down at them. "Undo the buttons of your blouse," Sara said gently. "I can't," Annie said. "Why not?" "I'm too ashamed! And also... you told me to hold onto the pennies." "Oh," Sara said, "I forgot about those; here, let me help." Sara stood behind Annie, and working top to bottom, slowly unbuttoned the blouse, then drew it back over Annie's shoulders. Sara reached her hands around, weighing Annie's small breasts. "They're little poems," Sara said. "Like fruit but a breath from ripeness." Sara brought her lips to the point of Annie's neck, and with finger and thumb pinched each tiny nipple. "So small and perfect, pointed each with your shy sweet pulse." Annie turned and brought her arms up, crossing them in front of her breasts. "What about the climbing?" she said, shivering in the sun. "Oh, the climbing, yes," Sara answered. "Truly I can't climb on you without clothes. Please?" "Nonsense, just shinny on up." "I never really learned to shinny," Annie said. "Well then, what if I kneel down, and you stand up on my shoulders, and then when I stand up... won't that work?" Annie said nothing. "Try." "What about these?" Annie asked, opening her hands to show Sara the bright copper circles, one in the center of each palm. "We keep forgetting those pennies, don't we," Sara said. "You're such a good girl. Just put them in my purse." Sara watched as Annie bent over to open the shoulder bag. "You have the loveliest little ass," Sara said. Immediately Annie went to one knee. She jerked the purse zipper, but flinched upon glimpsing the gun. "You'd think it was a snake," Sara said. "Go ahead, put the pennies in--it won't bite." Annie shivered as she let the pennies fall into Sara's purse. "Good girl," Sara said. "Now let's do it!" She crouched low against the cabin wall. "Put your right foot on my right shoulder." "There, that was easy. Now the other." "I can't, I'll fall," Annie said. "You won't. Try it." But Annie was right: the girls tumbled together on the soft ground. "This isn't working," Annie said. "I know," Sara said. "I saw a wheelbarrow around back," Annie said. "Maybe we could use that." Sara agreed. They wheeled it around, snugged it against the wall. "It's awful rickety," Annie said. "That's 'cause the ground is so soft here. It'll settle down when you stand on it." Annie stepped up into the trough of the wheelbarrow, her hands braced against the wall. "Now what?" she asked. "This thing feels real wobbly. I feel so stupid." "Hold steady," Sara said, her hands lightly on the girl's hips. "There," she said, "You're doing fine." She stroked a nail along Annie's spine, edging it into the groove above the buttocks. Annie shivered. "You've got good balance," Sara said. She caressed Annie's bottom. "Excellent balance." "Stop that," Annie said, "I feel foolish enough as it is." "Ok," Sara said, "I was just testing your balance. You have wonderful balance." "Enough about my balance," Annie said. "What do I do now?" "Try stepping up onto my shoulders," Sara offered. "I feel stupid," Annie said. "There," Sara said. "Easy Daisy. Now the other." Annie settled on Sara's shoulders. She was squatting, practically sitting on Sara's head. "I feel so foolish," Annie said. "More foolish than when I was in the wheelbarrow. And your hair tickles." "You're doing good," Sara said. "Try to stand up. Take it slow." Slowly Annie drew herself up, her hands creeping up the cabin's sun-bright western wall. "You're doing it!" Sara said. "Can you grip the ledge?" "Don't talk," Annie said. "Don't move. Don't breathe." "Can you pull yourself up a little more?" "It's too thin," Annie said. "There's nothing to grip." "This soil feels like it's sinking," Sara said. "Maybe you better come down." "If I can just reach that center part..." Annie said. "Annie, this ground is giving... come down. I can drive the truck under; that'll make it easy." "I'm almost there," Annie said, "Please, please just push. Just push me a little more. I'm almost there." Sara looked up. Her eyes climbed the long curve of Annie's legs, a slow smooth mix of marble into melon, flesh warmed by hot west sun, a delicate quiver near one buttock's crease, and the sex lips slipping slightly open as Annie stretched herself upward one final inch. Sara saw the sunlight slice into that intimate place, a slim sparkle of silver flashing across wet cunt skin. *** "Where am I?" Annie asked. "What happened?" "You fell," Sara said. "You hit your head on the edge of that wheelbarrow. Annie's eyes glistened. "You're in Grandma's big bed." Annie looked doubtful. "Do you know who I am?" "Sara?" Annie said. "How did we get in?" "Through the door," Sara said. "I carried you." "But how did...?" "I huffed and I puffed and I blew the door in," Sara said with a grin. "Like the big bad wolf," Annie smiled contentedly. Then she closed her eyes and slipped back into sleep. *** "Really, how did we get in?" Annie asked, dried tears on her cheeks. "The door was open," Sara said, "It wasn't locked." "I feel so strange and spinny," Annie said. "You've had a bad bump," Sara said. "I feel cold," Annie said. "Could you put some covers on?" "You have a fever," Sara said. "Your skin is hot." "It is?" Annie asked. "And you have some cuts," Sara said. "I'm a little worried about infection." "Cuts where?" Annie asked. "I can't feel them." "On the palm of your right hand. On your right shin. On your left breast." "I feel cold, Sara. I can't move. How come I can't move?" "It might be the shock," Sara told the girl. "Can you feel anything?" "I feel cold," Annie said. "Cold and afraid. I'm going to die, aren't I?" "Can you feel my hand on your forehead?" "Yes, it feels good. It feels nice and warm." "Can you feel my hand now?" "I think so." "Where do you feel it?" "My toes, Sara. My toes and my cunny-place." "But I'm not touching your cunny, Annie. Just your big toes. I'm just squeezing your big toes." "Oh. It feels like you're touching my cunny, too." "You have a fever, Annie. You're burning." "I feel cold. So cold. I'm going to die soon, aren't I?" "It's just the fever, Annie, the fever and the shock." "Maybe you should take me to a hospital, then. Wouldn't that be a good idea?" "I don't want to move you, Annie. I'm afraid I've moved you too much already." "Could you do something," Annie whispered. "Could you touch my toes some more?" "I can do that," Sara said. "But first I want to do something about those cuts." "What are you going to do?" "There's something that might work," Sara said. "I'm cold," Annie said. "Are you sure you can't cover me?" "Ok," Sara said. "But first I'm going to fix your cuts. I'm going to pee on your cuts, and the pee will kill the germs and make you better. Is it ok if I do that?" "Kill the germs..." Annie repeated. "I'm going to start with the one on your shin," Sara said. She straddled Annie's leg. She moved herself over Annie's shin and opened herself and pressed herself against Annie's leg. "I hope I can stop once I start," Sara said. Then the pee gurgled out, a handful of grasshoppers whispering at the side of a dusty road. "There," Sara said. "How was that?" "It tickles," Annie said. "Does it burn?" Sara asked. "No, it just tickles and tingles," Annie said. "That means it's killing the germs," Sara said. "You'll see." Sara took Annie's hand and moved it between her legs; she cradled Annie's hand from underneath, pressed the girl's small palm until it was snug against her center. "It tickles me, too," Sara said, the pee coming. "It feels like grass growing," Annie said. "Yes," Sara said. "I hope I haven't used it all up." She settled herself astride Annie's chest, maneuvered above the little breast. "Your nipples are so sweet and small," Sara said as she peed. "Does it feel like grass growing." "More like pretty butterflies," Annie said. "Little yellow ones fluttering toward the sun." "I'm empty now," Sara said. "I've used it all up. I hope it was enough." Annie was asleep. *** "Did you dream?" Sara asked. "Mm," Annie said. "I dreamed you touched my cunny-place. Did you do that? It felt real." "I just touched your toes," Sara said. "I played with your little piggies." "My little piggies," Annie said, almost happily. "Nice little piggies," Sara said. "So pudgy and sweet. I wouldn't mind sucking on them, eating them all up." "Nice little piggies," Annie sighed. "Are you still cold?" Sara asked. "Was I cold?" Annie asked. "You said you were." "I feel warm now." "That's a good sign," Sara said. "Maybe your fever's about to break." "About to break," Annie said. Overhead, sunbeams strolled across the room. "I saw us in here," Annie said. "When I was up there." "What did you see?" Sara asked. "We were flower-falls." *** "Am I alive?" Annie asked. "Yes," Sara said. "You're still alive." "But it won't be long now, will it?" "Before what? "Before I'm dead." "You're alive now," Sara said. "How come I still can't move?" Annie asked. "Maybe it's the shock," Sara said. "The peeing didn't help then?" Annie said. "That was for the fever," Sara said. "The shock might take time to wear off. Or maybe something else." "What?" "Something more drastic. Another shock maybe." Sara took her shoulder bag and set it on Annie's belly. "You know what's in here?" she asked. "My pennies?" Annie said. "You know what else?" "No," Annie said. "I don't know." Sara slowly worked the zipper. "What a nice noise it makes, opening so slow like that." "Pennies," Annie said. "No, not pennies," Sara said. "Panties?" "No, not panties, either." "Butterflies!" Annie said. "You know!" Sara said. "Grasshoppers in the grass." "You know! Tell me and I'll stop." "Pennies!" Sara stopped the zipper and set the bag beside the bed. She gathered herself over Annie's body, placed herself where the purse was, leaned forward, and stared directly into Annie's wide eyes. "I should slap you silly," she said. "That fat cold gun," Annie said. Sara leaned forward the last inch and took Annie's tongue into her mouth. She sucked it greedily. "How come your tongue is so hot?" Annie asked. "The butter to melt you with," Sara said. "God, I must be catching your fever." "My piggies," Annie said. "So pudgy and sweet." "Not to mention your cute little cunny-slit." "Shh," Annie whispered, "Bad word." "Cunny slit?" "Cunny slit." Sara sat up, swiveled around. "Such a sweet cunny-slit," she said, "So shy and soft." She leaned forward until her chin rested in the bed of red hair. "I'm going to cure you now," she said. "I'm going to make you all butter." "All butter," Annie repeated and Sara spread the girl's thighs as wide as they would go. "Why what a fine fat clit you have," Sara said. "Strange... with your nipples so tiny." And then she fastened her lips firmly around the fine fat clit, and sucked it with all her might." "Oh," Annie said. "No. Oh oh oh." Sara parted the girl's sex lips with her fingers and pushed her hot tongue into the hole. "Please," Annie said, "Please no. Oh please, oh oh oh." Sara rubbed and rustled her chin against Annie's clit while flicking and fucking her tongue far into the slim passage, sluicing hymns of juice and froth and spit against the thin mucous membrane. "Oh please, oh oh oh!" The girl's cunt quivered as Sara nipped and nudged, pushing and working the way wide. "I can't, oh God, I can't, oh, God. I Oh oh ooooohhhhhhhhh!" In one sanguineous gulp, Sara devoured the girl's virginity. As afternoon eased into dusk, Annie's moans became more muffled; Sara's tongue, relentless, teased the cunt's elusive gasps, pushed ever deeper, stretching inward, trying to tempt that one last conclusive convulsion, to bring about that final soft sigh, and then the everlasting peace and quiet. "You FUCKING DYKE BITCH!" Sara's body hurtled against the wall. Bard's boot cracked her spine, ripped into her belly, rocked between her legs. A fury of kicks rattled her ribs, and when she tried to turn, his toe knocked her numb. And then he was about to kick her head off--she saw it coming but couldn't for the life of her move... the big black manboot was inches from her eye when the gudgeoning bullet struck his brain, dead center, and spun him down, nothing but a coarse stain on a pinewood floor. In bed Sara whimpered as Annie eased her tongue across the heavy bruises. "Sweet sweet Sara," she crooned and she bathed the broken skin, made it minute by minute better. Hours later Annie and Sara were quietly nuzzling each other when sleep finally eased into them. They woke to first light, stretching, frisky. "I shore am hungry," Annie said, a sly smile creeping across her face. "Hm," Sara said, contemplatively eyeing the carcass on the cabin floor, "Man-flesh makes good eating if it ain't over- cooked." Giggling gaily then, the girls embraced, and then they gorged themselves, shamelessly feasting on all manner of flesh and feeling. END ===== Note: This story was inspired by Sarah Fox Jahn's delightful version of Little Red Riding Hood. Comments welcome! --M. M. Twassel ===================== The Better To ... by M M Twassel -30- -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----