Message-ID: <28892asstr$982138202@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: From: kellis X-Original-Message-ID: MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII Subject: {ASSM} The Innocent Fugitives Ch09 {Varkel} (MF Mg oral anal rom) Date: Wed, 14 Feb 2001 03:10:02 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: newsman, gill-bates The Innocent Fugitives a Novel by Varkel Copyright (C) 2001, Varkel Chapter 9: Five Grand for Jenny Jenny fumbled in her apron pocket and drew out a handful of change to count. She turned to Hannah sitting behind the hot food shelf. "Three dollars and 85 cents in tips after four hours." She gestured at the empty dining room. "Thought you said this was your busy night." "Monday is," Hannah retorted indifferently. "Then how can you keep this place open?" The older woman shrugged. "It's subsidized. In case you didn't notice, I don't have a regular cook right now. So I'm glad business is so bad." "The food's good. If you advertised a little, I'll bet it could make money." Hannah regarded her speculatively. "Want to take it over?" "Huh? What do you mean? How?" "How ever you want. Manage it. Buy it outright. I know you guys ain't broke." "I was a nurse, Hanna." "Yeah, like I was a whore. Don't they teach you something about food preparation in nursing school?" Jenny chuckled. "Yeah, only backwards like everything else. For example, they teach you how to make a cock limp, not hard." Hanna nodded. "Guess they figure a good-looking broad like you don't need help making them hard." "You think I'm good looking?" Hanna regarded her thoughtfully. "Yes, I do. Smooth complexion, good legs, tucked-in tummy, plenty of hip. You're a little short in the boobs according to some tastes, but they's plenty who likes them that way. The posters say you're 28. You look younger to me." "They're wrong. I'm 26." "How come no kids?" "I ..." Jenny looked away. "I didn't like my husband." "He let you get away with that?" "With what? I did my duty by him. But I took the pills religiously. Still do." "I wondered if maybe you did a stint of my racket. Few working girls get caught, you know." "They told us that. Sterilized by gonorrhea in the Fallopian Tubes." Hannah shrugged. "All I know is I never heard of one getting caught who made it through her first two years." She cocked an eyebrow. "Your duty, eh? Did you swallow all of _his_ cock, too?" "No." Jenny dropped her eyes, blushing. "Paul is a bit more than a duty, is he?" "I love him, Hannah." The older woman nodded. "We need to stick by a perfect cock. It's a shame they're usually attached to such pricks!" Jenny chuckled wryly, wondering how Hannah would have characterized Todd. And his organ. The woman continued, "I wondered about your sticking by. You didn't seem to get too upset when I sucked him off." "I was about to." "Nor the other night when he went off with that little snippy from Room 18." Again Jenny blushed, eyes downcast. Hannah grinned. "Of course, we both know what you were doing while he was adjusting her TV. I really appreciate that one, Jenny. That guy can put me out of business with a snap of his fingers." "He seemed ... to be satisfied." "Oh, he was!" She chuckled. "He stopped by the office and congratulated me on my well-trained stable of cocksuckers. I wanna talk to you about that, Jenny." "More cocks to suck?" "Sure. The world's full of them, and a girl can make them pay. But I was thinking of something besides your mouth." Jenny shook her head. "We've already discussed that, Hannah. My teeth are good with no gum disease, and a cock can hardly tear the skin in my mouth. But it can tear me in other spots. I'm reserving those to Paul. At least to men that I know very well indeed." "AIDS, huh?" "I guess so. If it wasn't for that ... The fact is, Hanna, you know I love to do it." The older woman's expression was shrewd. "You only recently learned that, didn't you?" "To like it? Yes, not to feel ashamed. Paul taught me." "Lucky you. A lot of women never learn, which makes us even luckier." "Maybe so, but frankly, Hannah -- and no reflection on your career --" Hannah held up her hand. "I'm not asking you to turn pro at my old game, so long as you help me out with the occasional big shot like that county commissioner the other night. But I do have a proposition for you to consider. Come on. Let's close this place up. I've got something to show you." "Where do you want to take me? Paul's expecting me at ten." Hannah was turning off the stove. "I won't keep you long. I wanna show you the conference room, Room Number 6, which is leased to ... Well, I'll explain that. Go lock the front doors, will you?" * * * "This is the largest one I ever touched," Ruth admitted pensively, stroking the massive shaft, "but not the largest I've ever seen. There's a video with a guy who pulls it out of a girl and lays it on her belly. It extends past her navel." They were sitting in lounging robes side-by-side on the couch in Ruth's attic apartment. The television was displaying a video tape taken from her collection at _The Unzipper_, but neither paid it much attention. Calhoun asked, "What's so great about that?" "The girl is lying on a table with her legs hanging off. The guy is standing between them." "Show me." Nothing loathe, the woman led him into the kitchen and hopped up onto the Formica-covered table, her robe falling open around her. Opening his own, he slipped between her legs and looked down with a grin. "If he pulls it out, it stands to reason it started within... Ah, Ruthie, you're still nice and wet. How did you manage that?" "Playing with that cock would make anyone wet. Oh, John! I love the way you fill me up." "And I love the way you reach down, no nonsense, and pull yourself open when my dick nuzzles your crack. I almost believe you love it as much as I do." "We're a pair, aren't we, John?" "In some ways. Maybe in a lot more ways than this. I get the impression sometimes that you're like dynamite, just waiting for a spark." She chuckled. "Sometimes I do, too. Good god, I didn't realize ..." "What didn't you realize?" "I thought with you standing up I couldn't roll my clit against you, but guess what? You're so big I don't need to. When you push in ... Oh, god!" "When I push in what?" "I'm coming!" she gasped. She shivered violently. When she was still, he repeated, "When I push in what happens?" "You almost drag the clit in on top of you. Whew! I'm tingling." He chuckled. "Now I believe I'm supposed to pull it out ... and lay it on your belly... Ruthie, if your belly is typical and if that video wasn't faked, his dick must've been nearly a foot long. Have you got that tape?" "I'll see about getting it. Well, sir, are you just going to wiggle it around on me?" He leaned over her suddenly as his cooler organ re-entered her, forcing the fat labia aside. He slipped his hands under her back and lifted her to her feet. Her legs immediately enwrapped his hips. He whispered, lips touching hers, "I want you to be comfortable, Ruthie." "Comfort's not everything. Oh, John!" Now her hips were twisting. He walked back and forth before the unheeded television, supporting her with hands under her buttocks. Her arms encircled his neck, her head thrown back. She bounced and emitted a soprano moan with every step, scraping sensitized nipples against his hairy chest. Finally, passing in front of the couch, he lowered her gently upon it and began to drive forcefully into her. Now she screamed in ecstasy as he ejaculated with his own appropriate noises. She relaxed, panting, as he resumed lounging beside her. After a moment her hand stole forth and again closed on the wet organ. She said softly, "You're ruining me, John." "Ruining you?" he protested. "Maybe you don't hear the comments in the office." "Comments?" "About how bright and cheerful, how pretty you've become. Everyone assumes you've found a man." "Oh, god, I have!" "And that's ruination?" "While I was getting your coffee this morning I saw Betty come out of your office, smiling at something you said. I wanted to tear her hair out." "Huh! That would probably ruin _me_!" "Both of us." She took a deep breath. "Every minute I'm apart from you is just dead. I know how busy you are. You can only spare me a few hours per week. But John, I've always loved you. When I couldn't have you, I hated it but I could stand it. But now it's so much worse!" "Ruthie ..." She sat up, looking away from him. Tears streamed down her face. "I can't stand it, John. I'm going to quit the police." "Ruth!" "No, I've got to. I'm going to close the shop, too. I've got a little money. I think I'll go to Europe, someplace far away." "Ruth! To get away from me?" "I have to, John." Suddenly she got to her feet, wiping her face on the hem of her robe. She turned to smile at him, blinking her eyes. "But I'm not leaving tonight. Let me get you another drink." He rose also and gripped her shoulders. "Ruthie, maybe there's one or two things you don't know." She shook her head. "I know I can't stand hardly ever having you to myself." He took a breath. "What if we could ... change that?" "I don't see how," she replied sadly, looking away from him. Once again tears welled in her eyes. "You're too married to your work." "That's the key word, Ruthie." "Work?" "No." He laughed harshly. "My work! What a lot of crap! No, the key word is _married_. Will you marry me, Ruthie?" * * * The rain that had been threatening with distant thunder all evening descended just as Jenny departed the conference room. She ran hurriedly under the inadequately overhanging roof to their room, last in the row of buildings, where streaks of interior light were apparent through the drapes pulled at the window. She jerked the door open -- thank god Paul hadn't locked her out! -- and almost fell into the bright light, slamming the door behind her against the wind-lashed rain that followed her inside. She had only a glimpse of Paul, seated on the edge of the same rickety writing table, naked except for a thrown-open robe, with Bobbie kneeling before him, her face _completely out of sight_ between his legs. The girl jerked back, almost exactly as Jenny had done three days earlier, but lacking a chair behind her, fell only to her buttocks, hands extended behind her in time to prevent falling on her back. She left in evidence a very erect manhood whose outline Paul concealed by twitching the side of his robe over it. He looked up at her in wide-eyed chagrin. Jenny stopped at the foot of the bed, temporarily ignoring the drenched waitress uniform that Hanna had lent her. Her hands, balled into fists, rested on her hips. She stuck out her chin. "How many times have I come in to find you two fucking or having fucked?" Paul drew a quick breath. "This wasn't what it seemed, Jen --" "O-ho!" the woman interrupted sarcastically. "I get it. You were just checking her tonsils and didn't have a flashlight." He chuckled humorlessly and opened his mouth to explain, though the words hadn't quite surfaced, when the girl cried instead, "Jenny, Jenny, I swallowed it all, too!" The woman's lip curled. "Did you!" "I sure did. Want me to show you?" "That ... won't be necessary." The girl's face fell. "I was just about to take his jism. I can do that, too." "Oh, you can!" The woman's voice was frosty. "I suppose you've been practicing." "We have not!" the man declared positively. "What do you mean? I just saw you!" He explained weakly, "I mean, I've never ejaculated into her mouth." The girl groused, "But he was about to, darn it!" Jenny stared at the man, saying no more. He frowned, closed his robe, came to her and took her into his arms for a kiss. When he raised his head, he observed, "Something else is on your mind, isn't it?" She jerked her head toward the girl. "Tell you later. Let me get out of these wet clothes." A bright flash and a deafening crash of thunder had its usual effect upon Bobbie. The girl squealed with fright and ducked inside Paul's robe, seeming to climb his body. The rain was falling in torrents. When the rumbling died away, he said to Jenny, "We may have to talk in the morning." The woman tilted her head toward his encumbrance, observing dryly, "She'll be asleep in five minutes after you get her in bed with her head on your shoulder and her hand on your cock." The girl looked fearfully at the draped windows, in which flashes were presently absent, and began tearing off her clothes. Sighing, Paul scooted to the middle of the double bed with the girl on his far side, arranged exactly as Jenny had described. Another flash and roll of thunder caused her to press her whole body fiercely upon his. He could distinctly feel her hairless labia parting on his hip. He hugged her against himself and rubbed the surprisingly plump buttocks as a hand jiggled his foreskin. Jenny, returning naked from the bathroom, turned off the table lamp and slid into bed on his other side. He felt her breast and nipple on his chest as a soft leg twisted with his own. She said softly, "Not much business in that greasy spoon. Most of the time Hannah spent bragging." "About her hotel work?" "Yes, about the famous men she sucked off. 'Frenched,' she calls it. She claimed she did every governor of Kentucky from the time she started at 17 until she quit at 45." "What you call professional pride, eh?" "I guess. She said something I've not run out the math for. Almost every night during that time, even when she had her periods, she claimed to have sucked off three men, more commonly four, sometimes as many as ten." "Hmm. That's interesting. Let's see ... 28 years. Times 365 days -- we'll forget leap years -- times four for an average. Four times 28 is a little over a hundred. Call it a hundred to allow for exaggeration. Okay, she sucked off 36,500 dicks, probably not different ones. Good god! That's a few quarts of come, I'd guess." "You're right, it _is_ interesting!" He felt her excited breath on his chin. "How many quarts, if each man gave her two teaspoons worth?" "How many teaspoons to the quart?" "I remember there's six to the ounce." "Okay, and 32 ounces to the quart. Shit, Jenny, you're making things tough for your pillow mathematician. But let's see. That would be 36,000, about, times two divided by six, which is 12,000, that divided by 32. If it was 12,800 divided by 32, which won't be far wrong, we have -- Christ! That woman has slurped up 400 quarts of Kentucky's finest beverage." The woman laughed. "If you think it's so fine, why do you hate to kiss me when I've got a mouthful of yours?" "A mouthful! That's the nicest thing you've said to me all day." The hand had released his manhood. He listened a moment. The thunderstorm was moving away and the rain had slackened. The breath on his neck was soft and regular. "I don't think it even took five minutes." "She was tired," the woman murmured. "She's been playing somewhere every afternoon. I noticed her at supper. She slumped like she was tired but smiled a lot." He grunted. "If she's had fun I wonder why she hasn't bragged about it. Anyhow, what did you want to tell me?" "Are you sure she's asleep?" He kissed the girl's forehead. She sighed and turned her head away. "I think so. Sounds like your news is drastic." "Not drastic. It's ... Hannah has made us a proposition." He sniffed. "Involving a 'perfect dick?'" She chuckled. "Partly. She took me around to the conference room tonight after work. You'd never guess what they do in there." "Well, knowing Hannah, it probably involves sucking dicks." "A lot more than that. They make movies." "Movies?" He felt her take a deep breath. "Porn flicks, Paul." She felt him stiffen slightly. "_Hannah_ makes porn flicks?" "Well, no, not Hannah herself. That is, she doesn't star in them any more. Sometimes she has a bit part, she said, as a lewd grandma showing granddaughter how it's done. I gather a professional crowd comes in, five or six times a year, she says, to shoot indoor scenes." "My god! How big is that conference room?" "Oh, it's big. It's got an arched ceiling so it doesn't need inside columns. Perfect built it with movie-making in mind. He was a producer, you know." "'Perfect?' Oh, I get it." "Right. Her husband, one of the other two 'perfect dicks.' That's actually what she calls him." "Ha! Did she say who has the third one?" "No. He might be dead, too." "Okay. So they make porn flicks. What's that got to do -- I see." "She says I can make five grand per picture if it works out." "Oh, yeah? Five grand? What's a perfect dick worth?" "I asked that, too." "And?" "I'll tell you her answer: 'Movies are not the place for perfect dicks.'" Paul thought that over. At last he said dryly, "Maybe it's time to hear her proposition." "That's it. They shoot indoor scenes when the weather's bad. This rain is forecast to last another couple days, so they'll be shooting tomorrow. She wants me to try out first thing in the morning. She's already got the director's approval." "Let's get this straight. She wants you to be player in a porn flick?" His voice was strained. "Paul ... I don't think it's _that_ outrageous!" "You don't! Have you ever seen a porn flick?" "Umm. No, I guess not. I wouldn't look at them when Bud brought them home." "They like to show orgies, you know: no real plot, just endless fucking. You'd have to take on several men, more or less at once. In the mouth, up the ass, maybe two in the same spot. And fisting! That's all the rage in modern porn. Somebody will stick his whole hand in your cunt, maybe up your ass, too." She lay silently. After awhile she said, "I know we're not broke, but _five_ grand, Paul!" "We don't need that five grand. If we go a little further away we can both get jobs." "With those posters in every motel and police station -- every post office, too, I bet." "No. They only put up federal criminals in post offices." "We're federal criminals. We've crossed state lines to avoid prosecution." He sighed. "You think you've got to do this, eh?" "I don't think it would hurt me, Paul." He could barely make out the glow of her eyes in the few dim beams leaking through the drapes from the corner lamp, but it was enough. "In fact you _want_ to do it, don't you?" She licked dry lips. "I want you to let me." "Jenny ..." "The way I let you fuck Bobbie." He grunted. "I don't exactly remember hearing your permission. You didn't sound very permissive when you caught us tonight." "It just surprised me, that's all." She sighed and reported sourly, "Hanna said you'd raise hell." "Huh! Well, just because I'm squeezing your tit instead of beating you up, don't think I'm not." "No, I wouldn't think it." He could hear the smile in her voice. Her hand fell on his flaccid member. "Paul, I want you to do me in the rectum." "D-do what?" "I mean, fuck me there: put your penis in me there." He took a breath. "Jenny, what's come over you?" "You're right. Hanna told me they would do that. But I'm still a virgin there, Paul. I nearly killed Bud when he tried to force me. I want you to be first." "How charming!" "I mean it to be." "Well, if you think I'll refuse an offer like that, you don't know me. Huh! Then I'll have to fuck _her_ ass, too!" "You can slide out from under her without waking her up. Do me over the couch arm. Come on, while I go get the cold cream." * * * * She was surprisingly tight, grunting at his pressure. "You have to relax it, Jenny. Don't fight it." "This is hard." "You think so? I'll bet a million ass holes are getting plugged around the world right now." She retorted acidly, "But yours isn't one of them!" He chuckled weakly. "Do you want to go through with this or not?" "'Going through' seems to be the problem." "Only because you won't relax. Try this: push out as if you were passing a big one." Immediately gas escaped her, rather a large release. Uniquely he experienced its passage as a tickling vibration in the head of his thrusting organ, concomitant with a shrill whistle. "Oh, my god!" she cried in tones of embarrassment. Through his laughter he managed to report, "Anyway, it worked!" "Yes, a bolus going backwards." She laughed, too. "Whew, Jenny, what did you eat in that so-called restaurant?" "Paul, don't make this any worse than it is." But her laughter increased, causing more gas to escape around their junction. "Hey, that feels strange!" he declared. "Huh! You ought to feel it from the inside." "That's where I'm feeling it, honey. I'd have to have Todd's dick to get any further into you." "God, don't remind me! Sandra wanted me to let him." "But you didn't?" "No, though I wasn't afraid of the length. His cock was just too thick." "Yeah. I saw it when I pulled him off Bobbie. I never shat anything that thick." He stood behind her, leisurely thrusting. He felt a vibration and reached under to encounter her hand. "I can rub that for you," he suggested. "No. Put your fingers in me." He inserted two. She was hot and wet. Her hand vibrated just below his. "More." He added the ring finger. Pressing upward, he could feel the distortion of her flesh caused by the passage and withdrawal of his manhood. "More, Paul." He withdrew long enough to bend four fingers stiffly together, then curved them into her. His testicles lay in his palm, jiggling as fingers alternated with penis, which he found to produce agreeable sensations. "My god, I'm about to come!" he exclaimed. "Can you hold on?" she asked. Her hand moved rapidly. "I guess, but when you start, clamp down with your sphincters, will you?" He slowed until he felt her tighten around both penetrations. Then his hips plunged wildly. Groaning in harmony, they both climaxed. When it was over, he backed away from her, spun and sat down beside her head. She still lay over the chair arm, panting. After a while she said, "Pyew! You don't smell good." He chuckled. "You needed to take a dump." "Still do." She raised herself tiredly, rolled her buttocks over the arm and fell onto the cushion beside him. She licked his neck and murmured, "That wasn't so bad. What was it, four fingers?" "Yeah." "I bet I could take your whole fist." "You mean to go tomorrow, don't you?" She sighed. "Yes." "Then give yourself a couple of enemas before you start." "Can you take enemas on a bidet? Hanna has one in that toilet." "I don't know. I guess so, if you can stand cold water." "It's important, is it?" "More than you think. Another thing they like to show is a woman sucking the dick that just came out of her asshole." "Yuck!" "Especially if it's dripping come." "Well ..." She drew a pensive breath. "The bacteria at that end of the human gut can cause real trouble at the other. The trick is not to swallow, isn't it? They can damn well stop the cameras and let me gargle!" He sighed. "I see that you are bound and determined to do this." "I want that five grand, Paul." He chuckled grimly. "That's another thing, sweetie. How do you expect to collect it?" "Huh?" "We can't exactly go to court, you know." "Oh. That's true, isn't it? I'll ask Hannah about that." She got up from the couch and disappeared into the gloom. He heard bedclothes rustle. Shortly she reappeared to stand before him. "I'm going to the bathroom, then let's turn in." "Bobbie all right?" "Fast asleep. She worries me tonight." "How?" "We made a lot of noise. I don't recall ever having sex in the same room with her before without her trying to barge in. Do you suppose she's sick? I felt her forehead. I don't think she has a fever." "She's just tired," he declared, getting up. "I think she's found some playmates, at least in the afternoon. What time should we get up in the morning?" "Why don't you and Bobbie sleep in?" He stood up, too. "I just realized. You don't want me there." "Hannah said they won't need you tomorrow. They've got enough men." "Yeah, I'll just bet they do!" * * * * Bobbie turned off the boring television, huffed a few times in self-pity and looked over at Paul to see if he had noticed. He was half-sitting, half-lying on the far bed, propped up against the headboard with all four of the room's pillows, reading a book open on his belly. He was dressed casually except for the lack of shoes. His eyes flicked back and forth on the page of the book. As she watched he turned a page. She pulled the drape aside. The gray sky was still spitting rain, though much less than earlier. Heaving a deep sigh, she flounced onto Paul's bed beside him. "How much longer will Jenny be gone?" "Probably till supper time," he answered absently. "What's she doing anyway? The restaurant's not open now." "She's working with Hanna even so. Why don't you take a nap?" "Did she go in the room with all those people?" "You saw them, did you?" "Yeah, out the window. What are they doing, Paul?" "Making money." She giggled. "What's funny?" "Do they turn a lot of cranks and money pops out?" "Turn cranks? Well, yes, I have heard it called that." "But they don't do that really!" "Oh, it's a lot like cranking!" She thought about that with a puzzled frown, finally shaking her head. "Does Jenny like it, you think?" "Yeah." He regarded her past the book. "She likes it." His eyes glittered strangely. She was lying face down, propped up on her elbows. Her hand slipped sideways and dropped lightly onto the bulge in his groin. "Let me do something _I_ like." "I'm reading, Bobbie." Gently her fingers closed on him. "That's all right. You read and I'll suck." He chuckled humorlessly. "It doesn't work that way." "Why not? What are you reading anyway?" "This is not the story of a young girl pining for her sweetheart." "Read some." He grinned sourly at her, glanced back to the book and read aloud, "'The practice of short field cinematography was greatly eased in the Seventies by the deployment of the anisotropic screen that reflects light directly back to the source only. With camera synchronized to a weak projector and joined by a half-silvered mirror, an actor just in front of such a screen could seem to be on the strand, waves breaking behind him, or even in the midst of the Normandy invasion.'" She frowned in puzzlement. "What?" He chuckled, continuing to read silently. "Where did you get a book like that?" "From Hannah, would you believe." She fell silent, gently rubbing the swelling bulge in his britches. Maybe it wouldn't work, as he said, but he didn't say she couldn't try. She found the tag of his zipper and slowly lowered it. He did not look up from the book. She was agreeably surprised when her furtive hand discovered his lack of undershorts. She closed tenderly on the partial erection. "Oh, that's right," she said thoughtlessly. "We're out of clean laundry." He growled, "Jenny was supposed to do that today." "Maybe she will tonight." "I expect she'll be too tired." The pouty but nearly full-sized organ stood clear of all restraints except the girl's stroking hand. She thought of offering to do the laundry herself; she had helped Jenny the last time. But the purplish head with its half-withdrawn cover drove such ideas from her mind. She slid sideways, opened her mouth and took it in. With a series of internal jerks it came fully stiff under her tongue. This one certainly went deeper in her throat than those boys'! It gagged her at first but she had learned to control that reflex. Soon her head was slowly stroking the entire length. Gently her hand squeezed the lumpy bag that dangled beneath it. On an upstroke she looked up over his belly. He had laid the book aside and was watching her. When her glance met his, he said, "Tell me, Bobbie, do you feel that you are competing with Jenny?" Competing? Like two teams at sports? Sometimes she was, she thought, but was that what he wanted to hear? She shook her head, no, without releasing her toy. "Then why do you work so hard to beat Jenny on my dick?" That one was easy. Reluctantly she released him. "Because I love it in my mouth." "You what?" His eyebrows rose and he shook his head, chuckling a little. "I can't believe a twelve-year old said that to me." His face hardened. "I can't believe I'm letting her suck me off, either." He hitched himself up in the bed, backing away from her. She hung her head. "You think I'm just a baby, don't you." He nodded. "I do think you're too young for this life, Bobbie. God! I can't believe what I've let you in for." She studied him worriedly. She was smart enough to guess where sentiments like that might lead. She declared, "You and Jenny are much nicer to me than anyone else has ever been." He snorted. "Do you understand what that says about everyone else you've known?" He shook his head and sighed. "Bobbie, Bobbie, what are we going to do with you?" She burst into tears and crawled up on his body, pressing her cheek against his. "Please, Paul, please don't make me go away!" "Who said anything about that?" "You're thinking it!" He patted her back and kissed the wet cheek. "No, dear, we won't make you go away." She shook the tears from her eyes and raised her head to regard him earnestly. "I'll do anything you say." He nodded. "I know what you're thinking of, but what I'd like to see you do is go to school." "To school?" She took a deep breath. "Schools hate me." "But will you go if I find you a good one?" "If you won't run me off." He sighed. "I've already said we won't do that." "Then I'll go. For you." Her hand caught his flagging erection. "But right now I want to make you come deep." "No, Bobbie." He removed her hand, tucked himself back into his britches and zipped up. "I think it's quit raining. Why don't you go play?" "What time is it?" He glanced at his wristwatch. "A bit after three." "Oh!" Suddenly her face brightened. "I can't believe I forgot!" she cried as she wiped her eyes on a corner of the bedcover. She made for the door. He smiled at her energy and called, "I think Jenny will be back about dark." "So will I." NEXT: Chapter 10: High and Low Varangian: ludmax11@hotmail.com Kellis: kellis@dhp.com -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+