Message-ID: <28901asstr$982242604@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 Ch10 {Varkel} (m+g gang) Date: Thu, 15 Feb 2001 08:10:04 -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: gill-bates, RuiJorge The Innocent Fugitives a Novel by Varkel Copyright (C) 2001, Varkel Chapter 10: High and Low "What's been keeping you?" Jimmy complained when Bobbie found him next to the fence. "Everybody is waiting." Her face lit with sudden excitement. "How many are there?" "Seven, counting myself. Only three of us can be up there with you at one time. Some guys will have to wait down below for their turns." "Seven!" she breathed and licked her lips. They went through the gate and made their way to the large maple with its crude tree house perched precariously in the platform of branches. Four boys in their mid teens and another who seemed younger squatted on the ground. They sprang to their feet at sight of the girl. They gathered around her, staring silently at first. She endured their scrutiny with a slight smile, favoring each in turn. But the largest of them made a face toward the smallest, who gaped at her nervously, and sneered, "She's no older than Tommy." Bobbie studied the smallest and found him pretty. She smiled and he grinned back shyly. "She doesn't even have tits," someone said derisively. "She has what counts," Jimmy declared with authority. "Then I'm first," the largest insisted, taking hold of Bobbie's arm. He might have been as old as sixteen. Jimmy, less than pleased by the unexpected criticism, declared, "You'll take your turn!" He pushed the older boy away. "Bring her up," Mark called from the tree house, peering down from the opening. Bobbie scampered up the now familiar rungs like a tomboy and climbed onto the platform. Jimmy was close behind her. The girl's cheeks were flushed in eager expectation and she quickly disrobed. Someone had prepared a pallet more comfortable than the one of yesterday by adding some army blankets. The older boy had climbed the ladder behind Jimmy. Now he tried to push himself into the crowded packing crate, but Mark kicked at him and yelled in anger, "Get down, Jeff! You're not running this show!" The newcomer's attitude displeased Bobbie. He seemed to be a brute. "I don't want him," she declared. "He's not nice." Mark and Jimmy looked at her in surprise. They had not imagined the girl would pick and choose. Jeff roared, "I'll fuck you, you little cunt, and I'll be first." He pulled himself into the crude structure. Bobbie rolled herself into a ball. "I won't, I won't," she screamed as Jeff stooped over her, trying to lay her flat. "Get away, get away, get away," Jimmy yelled and kicked repeatedly at the larger boy. Mark handed Jimmy one of the billyclubs. "Ow, god!" the large boy complained when the lead-filled end of Jimmy's club struck the back of his head. He rose off the girl, reaching for Jimmy, but Mark immediately slugged his head again from behind, actually striking him across an ear lobe. "Ow, Jesus!" Jeff screamed, falling to his knees, hand to ear in anguish. The girl's two protectors pushed Jeff to the opening. Mark kicked him in the buttocks solidly, propelling him against the tree trunk, down which he slid, too dazed to clutch the rungs, one of which his falling body knocked loose. He landed on the mulchy ground below with a thud and sat up, holding his sides and whimpering. But shortly he was on his feet. He grabbed the arm of the nearest boy. "Hugh, go get that can of gasoline in your garage. We'll show them who's running this show!" "Are you crazy?" retorted Hugh, shaking off the hand. Jimmy, looking down from the tree house, called, "The girl says she won't have you, Jeff. Why don't you just cut out?" The large boy glanced around at the others. None would meet his eyes. Seething with anger, he turned away, warning with a sneer, "I'm going to tell." "Forget him," Jimmy called. "Hugh, why don't you come on up?" He turned around to find Bobbie uncurled and lying on her back, legs spread apart provocatively, looking at him. She beckoned invitingly. "I want you first." Jimmy had lain awake much of the night stroking himself and wondering if she truly had swallowed the semen expelled through the fence yesterday, no trace of which could be found on the ground. Instead of simply asking her, which could possibly prove embarrassing, he had thought to let her suck him off as his opening act today. But now she drew up her knees, indicating clearly how she wanted it. He was already half hard at the sight. With a shrug he pulled down his britches to his knees and crawled upon her. She, too, had anticipated this. Her nearly mature vagina was anything but dry. He slipped into her easily. Her arms went around his neck and she whispered almost inaudibly, "I like you best, Jimmy." That pronouncement pleased him. He thrust into her for perhaps one minute before delivering the result of his hours of unrelieved stimulation. "Wow!" she exclaimed, eyes widening, removing her arms from his neck. "That was a lot!" "How can you tell?" "If feels cool." Cool? As having a lower temperature? He shook his head in puzzlement, but he knew the drill. "Mark's next, right?" "Right." She was already smiling past him as he withdrew. Both Mark and Hugh, the wide-eyed newcomer, were already naked. Both stroked erections. Mark hustled to replace his friend. * * * The girl proved ultimately in charge. Jimmy acted as her regent. When Hugh crawled atop her, she said to Mark, "Let the next come up and watch." "But there's not enough room!" he protested. Her eyes never wavered. "Your turn will come around faster if they're ready for me." He looked to Jimmy for support, but that worthy had bent behind the two sets of legs to study the plunging junction. Mark sighed, slipped his clothes back on and disappeared in the opening. Almost immediately young Tommy popped up in his place. Hugh was groaning. Jimmy advised the newcomer, "Hurry up and get naked. Hugh's about to shoot." None of them lasted more than minute or two on his first turn, and though she smiled at each as he mounted her, none offered to kiss her. The consequence of their effort was cumulative. When Harold, the fifth one, put into her, liquid squished out audibly onto the blankets, also for the sixth and most notably for Jimmy at the start of his second turn. She only began to feel real pleasure with Mark upon her for his second time. He furnished her a mild orgasm in company with his own. Thereafter she spiraled into a deepening vortex of ecstasy, orgasm after orgasm, with twisting torso and gritted teeth during the necessary intervals between lovers. She became conscious only of the instruments that plowed her to delirium. Boy replaced boy atop her in bleary succession. Eventually the ecstasy grew overwhelming. She was unconscious when Tommy came back for thirds. "Is she dead," he exclaimed in fright, pushing at the sweaty girl's bare shoulder to no effect. He was in the tree house with Jimmy and Mark, who had already had their thirds. "You punks!" an angry voice yelled from below. "It's our turn now." Jimmy looked down and saw four older teens at the base of the tree. Jeff, leading them, began to climb up. Jimmy grabbed a billyclub and raised it as a weapon. Tommy, unarmed and naked, imbued with a sudden determination to protect the person who had just soaked his entire genitalia, pushed his body out of the tree house and stood on the top rung to block its entrance. Behind him Mark slapped the swooned girl awake. Tommy was grabbed from below and flung to the ground. Jeff's head suddenly appeared and Jimmy smashed it with his cudgel, causing the boy to duck back and cry out in pain and outrage. The newcomers below, eager for a free fuck, shouted and yelled. Apparently they had brought a supply of fist-sized rocks. The packing crate rattled with the thud of missiles, some of which shot through the opening and caromed around inside. Bobbie cried out when one bounced against her shoulder. Jeff's hand, clutching a branch near the tree house, received a stinging blow from Mark's billyclub, used at last as intended. Screaming, Jeff let go and fell to the ground, where he sat up, cursing his erstwhile friend at the top of his lungs. Another newcomer climbed higher to perch on a rung just below the reach of the billyclubs, adding his taunts to the din, hoping to grab an injudiciously extended billyclub and thus jerk its wielder to the ground. The supply of rocks was soon exhausted, with few reusable because hardly any could be found again after falling into the thick brush. The combatants had reached an impasse, which only increased the shouted invective. In fact, short of fire or higher energy weapons, it was soon apparent to both sides that the two visible in the tree house were not to be dislodged. Jimmy kept watch while Mark hurriedly threw on his clothing. Mark handed her garments to the girl with the advice, "Better get dressed." Her face contorted in disappointment. She asked plaintively, "Can't we do any more fucking?" "Well ..." began Mark, studying her lithe body with its now crimson labia, groin and legs thoroughly streaked with various shades of cream, some of it beginning to crust over. But he was not permitted a full reply. The noise of their battle had attracted attention unwelcome to all. However directed, either by a fearful neighbor or by overhearing the din while on routine patrol, two uniformed policemen, guns in hand and ready for anything, burst upon the scene from the direction of the gate. "Cops!" someone yelled, and the boys on the ground vanished into the brush, leaving Tommy unconscious and naked at the base of the tree and Jeff, having regained leadership of his faction, clinging to an upper rung of the crude ladder. "Bobbie!" Mark whispered hoarsely, thrusting her clothing into her arms. "The cops are here! Take this and climb higher on the tree. Can you do that?" Bobbie shook off the concupiscent fog. She knew what was at stake: her life with Paul and Jenny. She did not tarry to don her clothes. With a boost from Mark she was able to grab the limb just above the window hole. From there she climbed higher and higher until the branches were too thin to support her body. A screen of broad, late summer leaves concealed her. She peered through them to the scene below, moving her head from one vantage to the other. One officer was bent to the naked Tommy, now propped up against the tree trunk. His gruff voice was not unkind. "Where do you hurt, kid?" Mark and Jimmy were handcuffed together; Jeff was handcuffed separately. The second policeman was gripping a youthful arm in each hand. No other boy was visible. "What's this about a girl?" he demanded, shaking the arm in his left hand, which coincidentally belonged to Jimmy. "Girl?" the boy responded. "You think we'd let a girl in our tree house?" The shake transferred to Jeff. "You the one claiming he saw a girl?" "He never saw a girl!" Jimmy interrupted scornfully. "He just heard somebody wishing for one." "Shut up, you! Now, you little fart" -- another shake for Jeff -- "was a girl up there or not?" Jeff audibly gritted his teeth. "I saw her. She's still in there. They were all fucking her." "I'll check it out, Joe," said the cop bent over Jimmy, a smaller man probably 30 pounds lighter than the burly captor of the boys. He began to climb carefully, keeping his weight near the center of the boards. Everyone below watched his progress with great interest. When he reached the missing rung his head had already passed through the packing crate opening. He reached in and threw out a brown army blanket, which fluttered to the ground, followed by a set of boy's clothing. Then he quickly descended. "Anything?" asked his partner. "Yeah." He retrieved the blanket and held it up, showing several white spots, one still wet and large as a hand. "No doubt about what this is." He sneered at the boys. "Didn't they tell you how you can go blind doing that?" "A circle jerk?" asked his partner. "What about a girl?" "No sign of her. These are boy's clothes, probably would fit this one. I think that one is right. They _wished_ for a girl!" He scowled at Jeff. "Some of them." "I swear she was --" began Jeff. "Shut up, you little fart," said his captor, giving him another shake. "Are you the one who started all the trouble here?" "_Me_?" "You're the one with the lumps on your head." "They _hit_ me!" "I'm sure they did. I'll tell you what: if it turns out you had anything to do with that one being naked, I'll break your face. What they did to you will seem like love taps." Jeff's eyes widened and his mouth clamped shut. The huge policeman shoved all three captives back against the tree. "I don't like the looks of this one little bit: the smallest one stark naked and the others fighting over him. You do know what a judge will make of that, don't you?" When they only stared, he continued. "Maybe you don't, but for your information, such games can put you in the slammer for the rest of your life. What about the little one, Michael?" The smaller man responded, "Just had the breath knocked out of him, I think. Here, son. Put on your clothes before I have to arrest you for indecent exposure." The burly one began removing handcuffs. "I'm going to give you boys a break. Just once. If I ever catch you so much as spitting on the sidewalk again, you can kiss your little round asses good- bye. And don't think I won't remember you! You got that?" "Yes, sir!" "Yes, sir!" Bobbie clung to a branch for a long time after everyone had gone. The sky became dim. Her legs were sticky with semen. She finally dared to climb cautiously down the tree, wincing at a soreness almost familiar in the vagina but strange in hips and thighs, to a point just above the packing crate on top of which she had thrown her clothing. She dressed quickly and after listening carefully to the sigh of wind and the absence of other sounds, descended to the ground. She scurried along the fence and down the alley to the motel room, where, she knew, she would have to tell Paul a phony story if he asked. But, oh, wow! She had long suspected her lovers of quitting too soon, even Paul. Yesterday she had begun to learn what two males might do for her. And now! She could have never imagined that life contained such ecstasy -- if the dumb boys just wouldn't fight! The motel always had empty rooms whose keys hung behind the registration desk, where Hanna indulgently let her roam. How could she get word to Jimmy and the _nice_ boys to come to such a room? * * * Paul put down his book as the door opened to admit a bedraggled Jenny. He stood up, smiling, but she ignored him and marched straight for the bathroom, stopping half-way around the bed when she heard the water falling. She regarded him incredulously. "Why is Bobbie taking a shower at this hour -- or in fact is that Bobbie?" "It's Bobbie," he confirmed, "and she marched straight across the room to the shower without so much as a howdy-do, just like you." She lowered her head. "I'm sorry, Paul." "I only hope it wasn't for the same reason. She's been gone somewhere for the last three hours." "Well, she wasn't in the conference room!" Jenny craned her neck to look at the back of her jeans, swiped her buttocks twice with her hand, then sat in the straight chair before the desk. "Try not to smell me," she warned. He was standing around the foot of the bed from her, studying her face and the matted streaks in her hair. "Hard day?" he asked sympathetically. She shook her head. "It was ..." She heaved a sigh. "It was a terrible day, Paul" -- she shivered -- "yet I have to admit, to you ... I enjoyed it." She heaved a sigh. "God, I loved it!" He smiled slightly. "Do those conclusions belong together?" "You think not? Then how about these two: disgusted with myself and Hannah yet ready to do it all again next week?" He nodded slowly. "I've felt that way, too, not so long ago, in fact." She stared at him. "When?" He shrugged. "The night you and I fucked Bobbie. And the two or three times I've done it since. I still feel that way about her. Did you fuck little boys today?" "Huh! Everything but! Some of the guys in the orgy must have been in their sixties." She sighed again and shook her head. "I can't believe all I did today." "Anything besides fucking?" She cocked her head at him. "What constitutes a fuck, Paul?" He laughed a little. "Do you really have any doubt about that?" "Maybe I do. I'm trying to give you a quantitative answer. Does it count if a man just ejaculates on me or does he have to put his cock in?" "You had a man who only ejaculated on you?" She nodded slowly. "Several, as many as six or seven, maybe more. In that scene I was a white woman captured by savages who showed their contempt by coming in my face. Did you know that seminal fluid in the eyes burns? Not bad, but it does burn, rather like some eye washes. From there it runs into the tear ducts. I'm still smelling it." "In that scene did they use an anisotropic screen behind you?" "Yeah, showing woods and a burning fort. How'd you know?" He grinned. "Hannah's book." She made a face at him. "Maybe you should've come along after all. You would probably enjoy the technical side of it." "You weren't the only woman, were you?" "Oh, no. Six other ... actresses -- believe me, that's the right word! -- were there, plus a whole bunch of supporting types. One of the cameramen was a woman. And Hannah. They really do welcome her advice." "'Actresses,' eh? Did you have any trouble qualifying?" She grunted. "Are you kidding? The only acting those girls did was pretending to climax. If you stood back and watched some of them, you'd have to laugh. The director faulted me for that at first -- I mean, for being too dead pan. He said to ham it up. Want to know something funny? When you fake an orgasm, if you're not careful, it can get real!" "Only for a woman," he observed sourly, took a breath and added, "A pretty good crowd, huh?" "Maybe 50 or 60 people, I'd guess. But it's a big room." He nodded slowly. "I think it would've been interesting." "Hannah was afraid that you might ... lose your cool." "When I saw everyone fucking _you_, eh? How many of them fucked you?" She lowered her eyes. "Parts of it are kind of blurry." "Blurry! My god, they didn't drug you, did they?" "No, nothing like that. I mean ..." She took a very deep breath and shuddered, though her expression suggested less disgust than fascination. "In a scene after lunch I was a German woman during the rape of Berlin. Somebody complained that the uniforms weren't the right color for Russians in 1945, which caused a lot of yelling, so I ended up fucking nine naked Russians, so-called, three groups of three at a time. It taught me something I hadn't known. Something about myself." She studied him, the color rising in her face. "I thought I was frigid, unable to enjoy sex as much as most of the women I overheard in powder rooms. But, Paul ..." "Go on." She shook her head. "I think I must in fact be a nymphomaniac." He chuckled grimly. "Well, if it takes three sets of three men fucking you together to bring it out, I don't think you have much to worry about. Is that when it got blurry?" "Yeah. After that I was an extra in three orgy scenes. I guess that's where I got all this come in my hair. And everywhere else. I'm _streaked_ with it, Paul, all over!" She jumped up. "What's the matter with that girl?" With chin thrust out, Jenny pushed into the bathroom. A cloud of steam erupted, choked off when she closed the door behind her. Shortly a pink and naked Bobbie emerged, again in a burst of steam, toweling herself. The door slammed shut but the water kept drumming behind it. Drawing the towel between her legs, the girl winced as if it found a tender spot, desisted and looked at Paul with wide eyes. "What's with _her_?" He responded dryly, "What's with both of you?" "Huh?" "I've never seen _you_ take such a long shower!" "Oh. Well, I couldn't seem to get all the ..." "All the what?" "Ah, ah --" Her face brightened suddenly. "All the dirt out of my hair." The towel went to her head and began to twirl vigorously. He nodded. "She may have a similar problem. Where've you been all afternoon?" "Oh, playing. I met some new friends." "In the conference room?" "In the -- You mean, with Jenny? No. I tried that this morning. They wouldn't let me in, said I was too young." Now stretching the towel behind her, she cocked her head at him. "Do you know what Jenny was doing in there? She and another one was sucking off a big dude." "Thought you said they wouldn't let you in!" "I got a glimpse through the door. I think they was taking pictures of her." "Hmpf. Come here and let me dry your back." She bounced close with alacrity. Her labia were reddened and puffy, about twice as large, he realized, as he recalled them. "Well," he said in relief, guessing wrong, "I guess we know what took you so long in the shower." She followed his gaze then looked up with a slight smile. "You caught me." He shook his head. "See how swollen you are! Bobbie, I believe you can hurt yourself doing that. What did you use?" She studied him. At last she said, "I've got a hairbrush with a fat handle. I've been using it for a long time." "Have you!" "Yes. Wanna see me do it?" "No, that's all right. God, you are lovely!" He took the towel and wiped the moisture off her back. She turned in his arms and pressed a nipple, puckered despite its lack of backing, against his mouth, which as it happened was just the right height above the floor because of his seated position. Despite himself he opened his lips and suckled it gently. She smiled dreamily. "Thanks for loving me, Paul. I love for you to lick me, too." His hand went automatically to the puffy labia. Two fingers slipped between them. "Oh!" she cried, pressing her soft and hairless mound against his palm. Paul sighed deeply, withdrawing from her. He asked rhetorically, "What is it about an available twelve year old that makes her so irresistible?" "Because you want me." "Yes, but that's what you call a circular argument." "Circular?" She shrugged, her hand falling to his britches. "Let me do _you_ now, how about it?" At that moment the shower noises ended in the bathroom. Paul stood up, took the girl by the shoulders and turned her around to face the chest of drawers. "Go get dressed," he told her. "Jenny will be ready soon, and we'll go to supper." * * * The girl curled into a ball in her bed almost immediately after their return from the restaurant, even though warned that she would thereby miss her favorite television program. Jenny felt of her forehead, then shrugged at the watching Paul. He called, "We're going to sit on the patio, Bobbie, and let you get to sleep, if that's what you need." The girl's answer was only to turn her face to the wall. He beckoned to the woman and held the door for her. They took seats in the lawn furniture on the skimpy patio that fronted each room. The sky was dark, still cloudy from the morning rain. Traffic hissed on the thoroughfare a block over. Paul said, "I found out why she was taking such a long shower." "She told you?" "Yeah. Says she has a hairbrush whose handle she enjoys." "Does she! That's unusual. Most girls are content to rub the clitoris or actually just above it. I never knew one that commonly put things into herself, but after today ... Huh! I'm inclined to believe _anything_ to do with sex after what I saw -- what I _did_ -- today!" "An eye-opener, was it?" She shook her head. "It opened everything, Paul. At one point I had two cocks in my vagina at the same time." "How did that feel?" "Full! ... No, I'm trying to be facetious. What it felt was damn strange, because they were moving opposite each other, one going in while the other --" "I get the picture," he interrupted. "If you don't want to hear about it, quit asking." "I'm sorry. I _do_ want to hear." He stirred restlessly. "It's just taking me a while to get used to the idea." He laughed bitterly. "Which is rather strange. Beth loved to regale me with her stories of other men." Jenny studied his face in the dim light of the walkway bulbs. She laid her hand atop his on the metal table. "Paul, her idea was to taunt you with her infidelity, wasn't it?" "Oh, yes!" "Well, that's definitely not my object. I don't understand what she hoped to accomplish, treating you so, but the reason _I'm_ telling you about it is only because you asked." She sighed. "Also, I guess, because I do want to brag a little, but not in order to hurt or anger you. Have you any idea how much my attitude had to change to let me do what I did today -- much less enjoy it?" "Progress, eh?" "Yes, I think so. Paul, the truth is I was scared to death of men, not least of my own husband. Now ... Now I think men are lovely, and you're the best of all." She grinned at him. "Mr. Perfect Dick." "Do _you_ think it's so perfect?" "Well, by Hanna's definition ... I can definitely feel it flip my cervix, and that sets me off, as you may have noticed." "How many others flipped it today? Or did you even notice?" "Oh, I would notice that. The answer is, _none_. By 'flip' I mean that 'double bump' of Hanna's." "Is it really so unusual? I thought it was just part of Hanna's bull for disarming a man." "Oh, no. Such a thing really does happen, and I swear to you that I've felt it only with your cock, Mr. Perfect Dick." "Thank you, then. I guess that's a nice testimonial. How about your ass?" "My ass? No, they didn't offer to put two in it at once, though they did that to another girl during the orgy." "Hmm. _Did_ they take you anally?" "Yes, Paul, but they didn't get my cherry." "Jenny, how many men did you fuck in your life before today?" She only thought a moment. "Five." "Only _five_? Are you sure?" "Oh, yes. My brother, an intern at nurse's school, my husband, you and Todd." "The intern is new news." "I was drunk. In fact I don't remember anything about it. I was sore the next morning and asked some of the girls. They told me who it was." She chuckled. "They said I practically raped _him_!" "_In vino veritas._" "Maybe so. Why did you ask that?" "How many fucked you today?" She took a breath. "I don't know. I heard the director say he had 17 working dicks before we got started. Maybe a dozen put into me, some lots more than once. But if you count being ejaculated on as fucking, then I was fucked more than any other woman. Of course most of the time the men didn't come." "They didn't!" "No." She chuckled. "I think they'd need a lot more men if they always had to climax. And some scenes had to be reshot several times. I'm not sure about it, but I think the only times they actually came were in the orgy and that contempt scene of the Indians and the white woman. The director has to be careful with his men." She chuckled again. "They rewrote a scene with one of the other girls when her guy popped early. He was supposed to fuck two other girls first." "I can imagine the difficulties," he remarked dryly. "Bobbie said she saw you." "She what? I told them specifically to keep her out of there." "Well, I think in fact they did. She looked through the crack of the door while they were telling her to get lost and saw you and another woman, she said, sucking the same man." "That was the first scene I was in. The other girl was sucking his balls. He was the colonel who was supposed to be defending the fort. The Indians broke in and hauled me off to be raped. They drove a stake through my mouth and another through my belly." "They did _what_?" "Props. Collapsing stakes with clip-ons for the side view. That surprised me. I didn't think porn flicks were violent." "The new wave, I guess. Were you raped by prop dicks, too?" "Oh, no, the cocks that put into me were -- Wait a minute. They did have a fake one that they used for the money shots with the star." "A fake dick?" "For close-ups, complete with balls, belly, hips and thighs, with hair patches to match the hair of the actor it replaced. It was mounted on a platform about the right height and had a squeeze ball behind the cock to make it ejaculate. Before you ask, they use milk and cornstarch with sugar and vanilla to make it palatable. Oh, and egg whites just stirred in to make it runny." "Fascinating. You say that was for the 'star?'" "Yes, Miss Della Sucre. She's allergic to semen." "Allergic to what?" "That's what Hannah told me. I think it's simpler than that. She opened wide for one shot and I saw some cavities in her teeth. Nowadays it is definitely not advisable to take a stranger's body fluids into your mouth if you have bad gums or teeth." Suddenly she sat up. "That's it!" "What did you think of?" "That's why _I_ was the contempt victim! I wasn't afraid of semen in my mouth. I'll bet you I sucked up more of it today than all the rest of them put together." "You're suggesting that porn stars are getting wary about that?" "Hannah said that AIDS has killed most of --" "Pssst!" They both turned at the sound, apparently emanating from a piece of shrubbery at the nearby corner of the building. A dim figure standing behind the bush beckoned for them to approach. "Wait here," cautioned Paul, getting to his feet. Approaching the bush he recognized Hannah. She hissed, "Call Jenny, too." "Over here, Jenny," he said quietly behind him. The woman led them surreptitiously behind the building to the edge of the alley, up which she cautiously peered before turning around and handing Jenny a business envelope. "This is half of what they owe you. You can get the rest when they pass the rushes." It was a fat envelope. Jenny smiled widely. "Well, thanks, Hannah! But what's going on?" "Cops are in the office, looking at my registry. Some big Ohio dick is with them, showing pictures of you two. They know you've got a juvenile with you, too." Paul felt a severe chill. "Wh-what?" "They had serial numbers on some twenties that was in my last bank deposit. I guess they came from you. From what the cops said, I think they might check on everybody registered with Ohio or Michigan tags. I gotta get back. You do whatever you think you need to." Paul asked in a strained voice, "How much time will you give us, Hannah?" "Time? Hell, I don't remember shit about you." She grinned. "I learned a long time ago not to tell about a perfect dick." Her humor vanished. "But you'll be lucky if the cops give you ten minutes." NEXT: Chapter 11: Pleasing Perverts 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. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+