• Chapter 1
  • Chapter 2
  • Chapter 3
  • Chapter 4
  • Chapter 5
  • Chapter 6
  • Chapter 7
  • Chapter 8


    Uncle Roy's secret

    Chapter 1

    Sucking Sadie Mae was only her nickname.

    Here is how she got that way:

    One day early ay-em Sadie Mae had become a little looped tippling the good stuff while cleaning up some of the artifacts strewn about Uncle Roy's Roadhouse.

    The college crowd hung out at that establishment because of its down-home reputation and its being decorated with arrowheads, masks, zany sculptures created out of armadillo, alligator, and peccary hide to provide essential ambience. These artistic creations were to some extent meant to be taken as semblances of the surrounding educational institutions' team mascots.

    Word was Sadie Mae in her alcohol delirium revived some of the bombed-out sorority sisters by kissing them.

    Down there.

    Where their pubic hair entwined so finely about their tasty little twatlips.

    Kissed those sisters till they blistered and festered and all the rest.

    Then blew some of the big fellows.

    The jocks.

    Sucked their cocks.

    Right there where they had passed out on the floor of Uncle Roy's Roadhouse after a bout with a bit too much grain liquor.

    Then the kicker.

    Sadie Mae had her way.

    Balled them.

    All of them.

    Boys and girls together.

    In front of one another.

    Sadie Mae had gotten down.

    Gone down.

    Pissed them down.

    Symbolic and all that.

    As the college crowd was wont to impart.

    But that was just rumor.

    Sadie Mae was not like that at all.

    She just had a pair of those Cupid's bow lips that made everybody wish she did with them what they fancied she should.

    "Come on, dollbaby," one of the raucous fraternity brothers yakked at Sadie Mae a little after midnight, winking at another dude down the counter from him drinking at the bar.

    "You want another one?" Sadie Mae said to the first one.

    Knowing he was having a little fun.

    "Line them up," he said to Sadie Mae. "But I want you to take it away-I can pay you to do it if you want."

    "Wha-?" Sadie Mae said, her hair getting in the way of her forced smile and lightly dancy eyes. "Can't hear you anyway-"

    The guitar player wailed in the center of a distorted solo involving quick picking and relentless torquing of guitar strings. The bass picked up its lock-step as the singer took a breather and waltzed up to the bar.

    Sadie Mae flashed her ass to the pack of dudes as cymbals crashed from the bandstand. The drummer rumbled in tandem with clinks of beer bottles and longlong drinks.

    Tequila voice rasped:

    "Whooo-ie! Sadie Mae-don't you let those shorts get in the way."

    Macho next to him brayed:

    "Maybe they'll fall down today-I can almost see the crack of her ass now-if she doesn't wiggle away too fast-"

    A natural-blonde preppy bitch all lily-assed in from the east coast on a cheerleading scholarship could not take her eyes off Sadie Mae's hips. She licked her lips:

    "Omigaaaaawd! You boys are so rude," she chewed lewdly through screwed lips. "While you all crawl all over her, I'll watch."

    "Come on, Mercedes," Sadie Mae yelped to her. "You already got your twat full with Bubba and Randy there."

    "I don't care," Mercedes glared directly at Sadie Mae's two tits. "I might be able to get sooooome-thing out of it."

    "Maybe Sadie Mae could," Bubba Buster blew out from between ballooned mouthcheeks, "teach Mercedes to use a few new crinkles."

    "Might could," Sadie Mae jabbered. "Which don't necessarily mean I would."

    "I might," Randy cawed brightly, "be able to instruct all of you regarding a thing or three. After another bullshot."

    He downed a glug of tequila embedded in a short mug of beer.

    Leered queerly.

    Eyes bleared over.

    Yap flapped wide.

    Head drifted to the side.


    — In the center of Mercedes's lap.

    "Cut the crap," Mercedes cracked, yanking his head by the hair. "All your frigging slobbering got me wet there."

    "Bet it was already," Sadie Mae said steadily so that none of them could tell if she was really joking or if it mattered.

    "College brats," Sadie Mae nattered snottily as her barside charges cackled among themselves downing another round.

    Sadie Mae hustled her bustle muscling drinks and keeping the college kids entranced with the movement of her pants.

    She saw her kind-of-siblings Little Ramona and Sallie Anne dribbling and giggling dancing with a man in a khaki sportjacket with rodeo piping, shiny boots, and string tie whom Sadie Mae had seen prance in with the band.

    He was brushed up against their glands. Smooching their hands.

    Looked to Sadie Mae as though the dude had some definite plans.

    Now Little Ramona-Sadie Mae reflected that-her nickname she had gotten just like that. Cause she was little.

    Delicate bone structure.

    Slim waist.

    Narrow hips.

    Tiny tits.

    Little bit on the diffident side so at first you might think she had a little mind.

    Then she'd blindside you with how smart: a little devil she was.

    Which was why Uncle Roy had Little Ramona more or less manage his joint while he was inside. Which brought to Sadie Mae's mind the sobriquet Sallie Anne had claimed for her own.

    Called her Fucking Sallie Inside because Sallie Anne ran.a.whorehouse service for the boys incarcerated for the time being down the road along with Uncle Roy.

    Sallie Anne enjoyed her work.

    She herself did not have to swallow the pork, Sallie Anne rather lined up the assignations, catalogued according to preference, for the lads to dork damsels and uncork cases of Uncle Roy's special brew while allowed out of the big house on weekend passes for good behavior.

    In fact, Sallie Anne was like an unofficial parole officer, Sadie Mae thought, shaking her butt while shimmying a jug full of Wildfire Margaritas-so named because they were made with pure tequila- no ice-twist of lime peel only and a bone-sizzling wallop of picante sauce.

    "Say, boss," Sadie Mae coughed out. "What was the name of that drink you wanted?"

    "I said," the red-faced dude in the crew-necked jersey in the colors of the university with a number stitched on underneath the yoke jawed, "Sadie Mae. I want a blow job."

    Sadie Mae filled a narrow glass flute with a mixture of chocolate and coffee cream liqueurs. She added a fillup of whipped cream to the top and reamed her mouthlips slowly.

    "Mmmmm," Sadie Mae mewed snidely. "Looks good enough to swallow."

    "It's for you," the jock dude in the athletic duds said smugly.

    Sadie Mae batted her eyes.

    Ran them from side to side underneath the fluttering eyelids.

    Peepers wide:

    "Why, I can't do that!"

    "Come on."

    "I might lose my job-"

    He flounced his paw out and rubbed his thumb along the pads of his index and middle claws. A dry shuffling sound.

    Sadie Mae shot her head around.

    Scraped her peepers through the crowd as though staring out loud.

    He said again:

    "Come on."

    Placed a knob of moist currency afloat on the swamplike dregs along the bar counter.

    "I guess I could drink some-"

    "I'm ready."

    Sadie Mae placed her hands behind her back. Slacked her jaw.

    Dipped her head.

    "All right!"

    Embedded her tongue raucously on the creamy tip of the drink.


    Opened her mouthlips wider and took the rim of the glass inside.


    Threw back her head.

    "Smack those lips, sis."

    Tresses rested on her shoulders and strung down her bare back.


    Chugalugged the entire drink into her mug. Glazed her gullet.

    Smirked as she let some of the nacreous white liquor-laced syrup drain from the side of her lower mouthlip.

    Drip over her chin.

    Dapple the patch of ultra-white skin at the roots of her boobs and between them. She let the lad lick the drops off her.

    After all, it was his drink.

    He paid for it.

    Tipped Sadie Mae a lot.

    And Sadie Mae actually spat the drink out daintily into the sink as soon as the dude wasn't looking or maybe while he was.

    Of course, sometimes the guys would drink it right from her own lips.

    If they were in shape for it.

    "I'll have one of those," the singer in the punkrock clothes said. "Less you got something better for me."

    "We got something called Sex on the Beach-with iced vodka and nine different rums-"

    "That's a little out of my reach."

    He perused the fringes of cuntpleach straggling from Sadie Mae's snatch.

    Pussfur snaggling out from underneath her frayed panties and the stringy frazzled slants of her shortshort cutoff shorts.

    "How about a Screaming Orgasm?" Sadie Mae posed. "You look like you could use one of those. Grain alcohol straight up with a snuff of locoweed to help you off."

    "I'm game."

    Sadie Mae smiled.

    He was a tame one, regardless of whether he was dressed like a hoodlum from a low-budget science fiction movie with bleached hair, leather, and studs all over the place.

    "You from around here?" Sadie Mae said setting the drink down.

    "Louisiana. Lafayette. That's my name, too. You like our sound?"


    "The band-"

    Lafayette took a sip of the drink.

    Made an unguarded face.

    Sat the glass down again in front of him. Took a pinch of snuff from the tin Sadie Mae had sat beside it.

    Then suckered the rest of the juice down.

    "Burns," Lafayette said. "Good stuff. But I didn't get no orgasm."

    "Have another?" Sadie Mae snickered.

    A hand-slim fingered and bigger than most-now rested on Lafayette's shoulderblades.

    Sportjacket, string tie.

    Bootheels clicking just underneath the din of the jukebox as the band lurched into silence taking a break between sets.

    "Howdy. Eye-dee."

    "Don't have identification with me," Lafayette said. "But I'm old enough. I was in the army."

    He showed a tattooed bicep.

    "I can get one of those," the man said, "any cub scout could," flashing out a wallet with a badge pinned inside of the leather flap. "Tell me something, boy. Where you from?"

    "Please," Sadie Mae said. "He's one of the musicians in the group playing tonight."

    "Sorry. Law is you gotta card everyone."

    "Fuckingchrist," Sadie Mae said. "Mister. You better talk to Little Ramona-"

    "Already did, No luck for you there. Seems she and her sister clearly propositioned me-on behalf of some other available ladies-"

    Of course.

    Sadie Mae should have known something was screwy about the cleancut dude in Western duds including shiny boots.

    Usually in these particular parts only foreigners- tourists, collegiate types-and sometimes off-duty state troopers wore these allegedly traditional get-ups.

    Sadie Mae snuffed.

    "This is a set-up," Sadie Mae snorted. "I saw you come in-your papers say you're Yancey? I saw you came in with Lafayette."

    "So I did," the string-tied one said, "At the same time at any rate."

    "Just a fucking minute," Sadie Mae said. "Pm calling the real police."

    "Yancey, please," Lafayette said. "My man? Pm willing to do the chilling-I believe this was primarily my fault."

    "Maybe just give them a summons-huh? A fine? Some other time. Some hero you are. And you know what happens to heros without exception-"

    Little Ramona came through the crowd.

    "See, Yancey?" Ramona said. "Everything's legit here. We were only kidding before. Sallie Anne and me ain't whores."

    Little Ramona's tight pyramidal nippletips were visible through her sleeveless teeshirt sweat-wettened to near transparency.

    "Well, I sure am embarrassed," Yancey said, dancing his revolver from his waist, "about this case of mistaken identity," holding the firearm to his face and clicking it twice to inspect the chambers like looking at his fingernails. "Regardless. We're closing the place."

    Little Ramona thought she read Yancey's mind.

    "What's the fine?"

    "You could do time for that, little lady."

    "For fuck's sake," Sallie Anne gagged through caked craw. "Lighten up."

    "Nothing light about attempted bribery."

    Little Ramona barfed:

    "There's something illegal about all of this. Since Deputy Yancey insists, I'll telephone the local constabulary-"

    "Be my guest," Yancey said.

    Slowly there was a tide of turned heads crawling over the crowded dancefloor and booths and tables. Youths who wanted to evade any trouble at all-being too drunk for comfort, whatever-made way for the doorways in slow daze. Customers of Uncle Roy's roadhouse faded away.

    "Looks like we're closed anyway," Sadie Mae said as she noticed both Lafayette's and Yancey's heads moving back and forth.

    The boys were apparently popping their gaze between Sallie Anne and Sadie Mae and seeming to note a physical resemblance that might have been generic or might have been familial.

    "We want a biowjob," Randy and Bubba rang in tandem, oblivious, or nearly so, to the score going down in Uncle Roy's Roadhouse as they fooled around with Mercedes, now ensconced in a rear booth with toots of beer and straight alcohol.

    Sadie Mae hemmed and hawed.

    Looked toward Little Ramona, who spoke leisurely, with some eagerness.

    "Sure. Well close up."

    Sadie Mae thought she would try a stay of execution: "How about some of our friends stay to help us out?"

    "No bones about that," Yancey said, scratching one of his earlobes.

    "Come on," Ramona said to Yancey and Sallie Anne. "We need us privacy."

    Sadie Mae wiped a tray as Ramona and Sallie Anne sashayed with Yancey and Lafayette back into the small office. Through the window pane Sadie Mae saw the boys in the band land their minimal array of equipment in the back of a cabined truck.

    Lounged around blowing smoke.

    Sucking beer.

    Not too antsily.

    Not overly concerned.

    Merely waiting for their lead singer to return.

    "Blowjob," Mercedes shrieked. "A real one. This is fun. Come!"

    Mercedes looked down into Randy's opened crotch. Cool pinkish white cockmeat crowed in a limber curve up his belly.

    Mercedes licked her chops.

    Took pricktip between thumb and forefingers.


    Looking longingly for an instant.

    Saw the jimstick hop.

    Dipped her head.

    Corked her mouth with dingdong.


    Tamped it in.

    Mercedes sucked the penis in down her throat. Ran her fingers under the nuts.


    Randy's hips bucked.

    Mercedes clucked Randy's hard-on on the tip of her tongue.

    Ran her dentition in the crease between the head of the dick and the thickening bulge of its shank, Jacked it with jaw.

    Bubba Buster foamed his craw over with a load of beer.

    Leered inwardly.

    Saw from a side angle the twanger jammed inside Mercedes's mouth.

    Watched the way Randy skittered about.


    Bubba sat the mug down.

    Played his paw along his lower face and scraped brew onto his wrist.

    Took a gander at the insistent twisting of Mercedes's mouthlips.

    Torquing Randy's hammering hard-on with scratchy slides of her tongue.


    Bubba jerked off at the yip:

    "Say, Mercedes, my sweet. How about a kiss for this one?"

    Silent or unheard whimpers.

    "Since you insist," Bubba said with aimless flicks of both wrists.

    Bubba yanked the hair at the back of Mercedes's head. Reached into his own trousers and frittered around a bit.

    Unbuttoned his fly.

    Extracted a nib of flesh.

    Engorged growler gaped up like a disturbed tyrannosaurus rex.

    Scenting prey.

    Bubba's dinosaur dingalingdong pumped up strong in his fist.

    Prick dinge-colored with wide arrowhead tip. Nothing fancy.

    A sleek trim lancetip.

    Just right for Mercedes's yip.

    A dart to flip down their bull's-eye right below and between Mercedes's hips.

    A bolt to bing between her boobs.

    Spear to chuck into her bucket.

    Nearly the thickness of his forearm.

    Nuggets in a sack encased in a swarm of richly textured pudhair.

    "Hey! Come on, Mercedes. Give this boy some of your mouth."

    Jukebox clanged away.

    Two of the musicians came through the side door and took away several cases of beer in partial payment for their abbreviated services of the evening. Giving Sadie Mae the eyeballs.

    Asking what was up with Lafayette.


    Sadie Mae screwed her lips. Stretched them out into a Cupid's bow grin.

    "He's in with them. Shouldn't be too long. Not really any trouble."

    Sadie Mae's quim had begun bubbling just as soon as she had suspected that Mercedes and Randy and Bubba might be carrying on in back of the roadhouse undetected.

    She mad an uneducated guess about what might be going on.

    Satisfied to imagine and give herself to fantasy, she continued to work behind the bar and occasion^ ally limber her clitoris with her fist.

    While Mercedes sucked Randy off, Bubba wedged his thumbs into her strapless blouse. Mercedes blew prick witheringly.

    Blithely allowing Bubba to roll her top down and skirt up.

    "Fuuuuu-uck! Fuck me. Suuuuu-uck! I'll suck Randy of first while Bubba fucks me and then do the reverse. Like in football."

    A squall of sweat ran off Bubba's back as he stripped off his shirt.

    Mercedes's mouth flirted with Bubba's shirttail. She chewed it like a cud as Randy slung his whanger up between her dugs.

    Pug-nosed nippletips nudged against Randy's whining twanger.

    Skin shiny.

    Nips and prickhead bulging.


    Tingling to the touch.

    "Too much."

    Pink flesh strewn with nerve endings. Bodies bending like dying willows.

    Billowing lobes.

    Sizzling cuntfolds.

    Oiled hawgmeat ready to greet more grease before the real feast.

    Shimmering with fucksweat.

    Yeasty cunt juices fermented inside Mercedes's rippling quim.

    Legs thumping.

    Rhythmically pumping.

    "Don t quit."

    Mercedes hitched her skirt higher.

    Bubba climbed up her thighs.

    Randy reamed her wide-angled yawp again with the edge of his twanger.


    Mercedes's ass shimmied from side to side as Bubba drew down her panties. His phalanges roamed her dainties.

    Fingertips tainted with rutsweat. Painting her underbelly with her own slime.

    Straight from her pussy, where juices ran in sluices between two sets of lips. Outer and inner labia gave way.

    Bubba's fingers did the walking through Mercedes's cabbage patch as his pet rocks began to jump in his jimjam.

    Cheerleader Mercedes bleated:

    "Give me an off!"

    "Eff!" Randy and Bubba chimed.



    "Give me a see!"


    "Give me a keh!"


    "What's that spell?"


    "What's that spell?"


    "What's that spell?"




    Randy strafed Mercedes's yip.

    Tossed down a slug of beer with a rearward flip of his chin.

    Drove dong in.


    Stuck it down her throat. bloated ballocks bounced against Mercedes's moving maw. Her paws gripped gonads.

    Massaged balls.


    Bubba lobbed his log upside her hips. Slipped his dick between.

    The crack of her buttocks squealed and screamed as Bubba creamed.


    Hot come candied Mercedes's bum.

    "You fucking monkey," Mercedes belched. "I want your jizz inside me."

    "Just thought I'd get your hiney hide coated," Bubba croaked, "before I loaded up again. Don't worry none. More where that came from."

    Bubba jammed his thumb in her bum.


    Mercedes's anus oinked open.

    Like a gopher, Bubba's thumb burrowed deep into Mercedes's assflesh.

    "The rest!"

    "I guess I should run my stinger in," Bubba said deadpan. "First I got to get it coated with some of Mercedes's cuntcome."


    Bubba ran his dick up the insides of Mercedes's legs from the back.

    Played it around her asscrack.

    Drew it under and pecked it inside her quim lightly. Stammered it against her clitoris as she wriggled like a fish.


    Bubba fucked her cunt.

    Rutted her slyly.

    To the boiling point.

    Cock anointed with Mercedes's flashes of ladygoo, he slithered it from her stew. Passed penis along her underside.

    Buttered her backside.

    Pinched his thumb and index finger inside the rim of her fanny.


    Dug dickhead inside.


    Prickstem buried to the neck in the assrim. Bubba trimmed her tush once and then busted it back into her cunt.

    Fucked her frontside.

    "Aiiiiinh! I wanted it in the ass. Fuck my fanny. Run it in."

    "Again-momentarily. I must lubricate it to be fair about it."

    "Lemme suckit."

    Bubba bobbed his penis toward her mouth. Bounced Randy aside and stood astride Mercedes.

    With both her hands, Mercedes ran two twangers into her jaw.

    Dual dicks pistoned through her fists. Asses twisted wildly.

    Piled flesh and muscle pulsed like the blaze of a wildfire to the wind. Teeth ground grimly into rich wet flesh.

    Prim pussy chattered through lips fluttering like caged birdies.

    Firm friction slicked by sheen of rutsweat.

    Bathing glossed bodies.

    "Ahau pawpaw pawpaw pawpaw pawpaw ahau maumau. Pawpaw ahau maumau."

    Bubba wired his whanger down Mercedes's neck. Rutted her boobcage, hips, and legs like a hound begging for jack-off.

    Then corked her ass.

    "Uuuuunh huh."

    Ran it in.



    Impaled her tail entirely.

    Stuck quail.

    Bubbling on a spit.

    Mercedes's limbs flailed wildly.

    Torso twitched spasmically.

    Eyes glimmered maniacally.

    She climaxed clitorally.

    Fingers playing herself.

    As she suckered cock.

    Like octopussy.

    And took prick up her ass in fast ruts like a poker stoking coals.

    Anus chewing cockmeat.

    Igniting like wood shavings to the spark of sharp twirling stick.

    "Uuuuunh. Eaaaaauuugh. Na na-na. Unh. Onh. Inh, Enh. Anh."

    Gored by bullhorn.

    Cored like an apple was she.

    Bumfucked Mercedes.

    Her flaming asshole.

    Tripping fingers.

    Sinuous tongue.


    Mercedes's slack jaws spewed saliva over Randy's-hammering nougats.

    "Got some good juice coming up."

    Randy bandied his hips about in loose jerking circles. Quirked cock.

    Pressed pecker in.


    Drew it out.


    "Let's see, Mercedes. You ready for these nuggets to go off?"

    "Ingh. Ungh."

    Randy gave Mercedes's choppers a chance to romance the tip of his twanger. Then banged her hard with choad.

    "Tee hee."

    "Take a deep breath."

    Dork snapped.



    Pecker puked-up come.


    Jizzom overflowed Mercedes's mouth. Her long sweat-sweetened hair flowered out about Randy's rutting thighs.

    Cascades of curds cackled down all of Mercedes's cheeks.

    Buttocks shiny with Bubba's ointment.

    Randy's rutjuice frosting her lips.

    Mercedes's teeth glued together.

    Cock and arse tethered together.

    "Fuckit. Fuckit somemore. I got to come some. I'm come-miiiiing,"

    She moved her hips back. Took a deep whack from Bubba's jimjam.

    Ramrodded hard.


    Come bubbled inside Mercedes's mouth as she licked out the eyehole of Randy's hangar. Peppered her tonsils with scum.

    Felt penis writhe in her bum.


    He fucked her slickly.


    Rutted ticklishly.


    Blasted her brilliantly.


    Bubba cracked her cranny wide.


    Cockhead pressed up from where it had nibbled Mercedes's cunt and clitbud.

    Stood hard and coated within her rosebud rectum. Pullulating cream.

    Jizzomic extrusions added to the running cunt-come, rutsweat, assoils collected in Mercedes's erupting cunny cranny.

    Sadie Mae finished stacking glasses and mugs along the top of the bar. She took the top off a long-necked bottle of brew and threw it off down her throat in a series of sucks.

    Thought she would see if Randy, Bubba, and Mercedes felt like helping her load the glassware into the washer while she took a breather and maybe saw what fucking Sallie Anne and Little Ramona were up to with Yancey and that other dude whose name-Lafayette? — she really didn't remember because as she realized now she had been to busy looking at him.

    Trying to see through all of that rock musician get-up of leather, tattoos, studs in his duds and ear. To get a handle on who he really was.

    Sadie Mae got a buzz from the slug of beer. Paused an instant.

    Glugged down some more.

    "Shit," Sadie Mae said. "Have to peepee. Let's see if I can go another round-"

    Yancey sat down at the desk across from Little Ramona as Sallie Anne drew out a long cigarette and lit one for Lafayette.

    "So, Yancey," Little Ramona said with but a touch of snideness in her eyes, "You new on the local force? Haven't seen you before."

    "Of course I could claim to have been sent in from another jurisdiction due to my vice squad specialties* But I only lie occasionally."

    "Gimme a fucking break," Sallie Anne said. "You in with him, Lafayette?"

    Lafayette let out a slow breath.

    "Paid me up front to go through that stunt at the bar. Said he just had to put the fear of the law among you all and that I was more or less doing you a good deed-sides, there was some speed the other guys in the group had on them and-"

    "Please," Little Ramona said with extreme leanness to her lips.

    "I am an honorary deputy," Yancey said. "But that's mainly cause I helped the police out in connection with a robbery hereabouts couple weeks ago after I first got into town."


    Lack of interest.

    Yancey continued nevertheless.

    "Well, you see, I am on the faculty of anthropology at State-specialize in crosscultural criminology-this semester's my first."

    Ramona drew herself up tall behind the desk as she fingered a few ornaments of turquoise and jade laid out along the blotter.

    Yancey kept his peepers right there where Ramona played with the gemstones as he spoke, now smoking one of Sallie Anne's cigs:

    "Some artifacts were burgled-mainly Native American stuff-couple of the patrons at a certain art collector's party robbed-"

    "Think I read about it," Sallie Anne slurred. "No, wait. I ain't read nothing lately like that-maybe it was on tee-vee?"

    Little Ramona felt up a line of small stone statuettes and ornaments. Mauled her mein with mincing movements of skin and bone in combination cuteness and lewdness:

    "So, Mister or Deputy or Doctor or Professor Yancey-you aren't in this for the money, the fuck, nor the fun of it."

    Yancey smiled mildly.

    "That's pretty near correct. You might say I'm in it for all of the above. Plus some other stuff that is equally important-"

    "He wants us to screw him," Sallie Anne blew. "What do you say, Lafayette? Then he'll more than likely help hisself to our cashbox. Now that should be fun-"

    Yancey yawned blindly:

    "Save your imagination for the time being, sister-you'll need what's left of it a little later. Right now I've got something a bit more mundane in mind,"

    Chapter 2

    Two tits glistened in Mercedes's fists as she yanked her nipples out.

    Grated her teeth.

    Breathed heavily.

    Gyrated her waist.

    Tasted twanger between her teeth.

    Reached up under rump and pumped nutsack from the back.

    Slackness in her crack.

    Dingalingdong and fingers dancing and prancing along Mercedes's underside.

    She switched Randy's ass to get him to dash the cheeks faster.

    Splayed buttocks poised faster against Mercedes's tits as she stuck her snub-nosed nipples into Randy's rumphole.


    Bubba Buster was about to muster yet another load of nut buttercream right through Mercedes's chewing rack of choppers when she crushed his.cranker between her teeth.

    For an instant Bubba ceased breathing.

    His writhing orgasm subsided as his spermlets siinked back down the length of dingdong and fell fruitlessly into the sack.

    "Not yet, Bubba. I wanted a few more whacks before I god the bacon drippings this round. How about it? Pound!"

    Prick pulsed outward.

    Poker stoked inward.

    Rubbing over Mercedes's lower lips, cockmeat stroked her dentition with the underside along the beating vein.

    Bubba pistoned.

    Asscheeks glistened.

    His pecker ricocheted from the back of Mercedes's palate down into her tongue. Hung to her tonsils.


    Prick speared her craw.

    Gagged her gullet.

    Cock torqued down her throat.

    As Randy's bloated ballocks walloped against Mercedes's brandished boobies.

    Niptips pecking his anal, pucker.

    Randy bucked into her boobcage.

    Bent to come outrageously.

    When Mercedes swerved her neck from Bubba's pecker and shot her tongue out; lizardlike toward Randy's beckoning pucker.


    Mercedes suckered butt.

    French-kissed fanny.

    Then ran her finger up Randy's… ass. Stemming the tide of his jizzom.

    "Thanks," Randy jerked.

    "You're not the first," Bubba gasped crashing again into Mercedes's head.

    "Likewise, I'm sure," Mercedes threaded through her twanger-toking yip.

    She looked at the two dude studs through come-blurred eyes. Sat up fast on the deck of the liquor-strewn table.

    Her asscheeks were incredibly glued to the top and her head swelled by the fumes from the gel of rutsweat, cuntjizz, cockcome, underarm smarm, nasal mucus, saliva, assoils, and incipient piss perspired in ammoniac vapors through the pores of their fucksuckrutting skins.

    Mercedes jacked her clitoris maniacally for a moment. Angelically infused a snarf of alcohol down the tubes.

    Opened her cranny and scratched at her pubes, "We have not yet begun to begin to have fun," she said with no apparent emotion or intention.

    Smiled to herself and then smirked a cynical whitegal joke into her heart of dankness-the frankness with which she spoke to herself coughed out in a welter of postorgasmic inanity: "Depravity is the mother of invention."

    "Hi, mom," Bubba blathered.

    "Doe this really matter?" Randy jabbered. "Is this a literature class?"

    "Up your snazzy ass," Mercedes barfed. "And if you want to be in my brood you better get to chewing while I ruminate-something strikes me about this inventive business."

    "How about a fist?" Bubba said flexing his digits and working them loosely.

    "First gimme a kiss."

    "Which lips?"

    Through the scum-smudged windowpane next to Mercedes's nose, she caught a glimpse of Sallie Anne's rumpmeat in the slim shaft of light biting out into the darkness from the side door.

    Sadie Mae chatting for a moment-Mercedes saiw the guys all had hard-ons-ostensibly not realizing she was flirting with the boys in the band.

    She walked un-self-consciously in front of their leering faces.

    Traces of fanny visible as she hiked up her shortshort britches.

    Sadie Mae led the members of the band to their lodges along the row of cottage bungalows farthest down the arid slope from Uncle Roy's Roadhouse. "We got some visitors coming tonight, remember?" the bass player mumbled as if to the other musicians, looking at Sadie Mae.

    "That was my sister you must have talked to," Sadie Mae sliced from her two mouthlips. "Sallie Anne looks kind of like me in certain lights."

    And if you had certain appetites.

    "Well-I didn't mean-"

    "That's okay," Sadie Mae blew. "I'll tell Sallie Anne when she gets out of the meeting she's in. You all be needing any breakfast-we open up five-thirty ay-em for coffee and things. Full meals bout an hour later-"

    Sadie Mae couldn't be straighten She slinked a look at the band members that made them stop lingering their eyeballs upon her.

    Sent sloppiness through their erections.

    Yet an inner flame ignited her mind and she saw herself playing the boys in the band like pitiful male instruments-prisoners of their machismo.

    And Sadie Mae the virtuoso.

    All she had to do to ball them all was to lay low and open up.

    They'd go at her like pups on a bitch's paps. When Sadie Mae was bored with their cocks she would bark at them till they had fucked her yip, bum, and quim with their fists.

    Then she would piss on them.

    The possibility skimmed through Sadie Mae's mind that indeed she would not have to try particularly hard to bring this off in reality.

    How could that possibly bring her off? What was that dictum?

    No pain, no gain.

    That thought remained in Sadie Mae's head as she reminded herself to try it out the next time she got down. She needed an orgasm somehow.

    Sadie Mae whirled on her heel.

    Tossed her tits to and fro as if incidentally to her accidentally fuckworthy gait.

    Sadie Mae saw something through the window-pane of the roadhouse saloon that made her think for a moment about entering again.

    Her jaw went slack.

    Eyes slit into cracks and filled with moisture immediately streaming to tears. Her cool fears trembled up her backbone.

    Sadie Mae groaned silently.

    Slashes of icewater lancing through her quim. Icicles rimming her asshole.

    Glaciated clit.

    Frozen tits.


    All at once Sadie Mae opened up. Hot flashes streaked before her frigid gaze.

    Blazes of fuck ran around the ribbing of her rosehole and imploded her bum.

    Clitoris hummed like a beehive in the afternoon sun. Cunny dripped honey and tits crinkled into pointed wrinkles hurting like stingers.

    She slowed her walk.

    Sadie Mae balked.

    Maybe she should go directly back to see how Little Ramona and Sallie Anne were making out with Yancey and the other dude-the singer from the band.

    She chewed a knuckle.

    Eschewed this latter course of action. Tractioned toward the entrance just off the bar.

    "Weewee first?"

    Made way toward the rest room.


    Instead went behind the bar and popped down another long-necked bottle of beer. Felt the piss blistering up inside her bladder.

    Turned the corner with her thighs pressed tight together and spotted Mercedes on the table of a back corner booth between Randy and Bubba.

    Sadie Mae's eyes opened shiny as bugs.

    She beer-belched snidely:

    "Need any help, kids?"

    Mercedes smiled widely.

    A strand of greasy-looking jizzom dripped from the left side of her yip.

    Cockcome drooped in a long fragile loop from the point of her chin.

    Snippet of scum snapped off arid plopped onto the pug-nosed tips of her boobs.

    "We're all lubed today, Sadie Mae," Mercedes cooed, "Thanks anyway."

    "Maybe you want to stay, Sadie Mae," Randy brayed with a dried spray of cuntcome shellacking the front tufts of his headhair.

    Sadie Mae did not even stare:

    "I been there."

    Hell had she.

    But not anything like this. The threesome rolling in bliss.

    Sadie Mae wanted to throw them a kiss. Throw herself at them.

    Feed upon them.

    Sucker them off with those Cupid's bow lips of hers. Chew cock.

    Nibble nuggets.

    Cream asshole.

    Nip nipples.

    Lick cuntslit.

    Have them all drink from her pink.

    Taste the whip maybe and-hey! no maybe here-why not dish it out?

    "Forget it," Sadie Mae said resignedly. "I wanted some help cleaning up around here. The others are tied up back with-"

    "We can do it," Bubba blurted. "Mercedes and Randy are easy for that kind of stuff."


    Bickering curls of nostrils, mouthlips, tongues, and eyefolds.

    Mercedes ran her long painted fingers through her long tainted hair.

    Flailed her phalanges outward.

    Propelled her digits upward in a slant. Lanced Sadie Mae's short pants with fingers.

    Stroked upward with bladelike nails rippling along Sadie Mac's ribcage.

    Lingering above the bellybutton.

    Below the boobs.

    Sadie Mae's tits tingled.

    Nips wrinkled.

    Her clitoris began to bing as if an electronic chime in time to her pulse. Loose blood engorged the folds of her cunt.

    Buttocks twinged slightly.

    Asshole hot.

    Winked shut.

    Eased open.

    Sadie Mae's legs parted breezily as she sought to let the incipient rivulets of her arousal evaporate freely.

    Her knees shook.

    Went liquid for an instant.

    Sadie Mae blinked:

    "I could use a drink."

    Yancey looked through a set of souvenirs from Uncle Roy's collection at a table in the rear wing of the roadhouse that also housed the workshop, pool (presently unused) cabanas, as well providing a back entrance to the registration desk for the bungalow courts stepped down the side of the hill overlooking a ravine where oak and pine greenery gave way to the persistent fringes of the desert, where sage and cactus and tumbleweed unlike people all got along together regardless of the weather. He had a boner.

    Started to hone it through his trousers and then thought about it.

    Better get back to work.

    Time enough for that stuff later.

    Jerked it a bit just to loosen up the heaviness of his ballocks.

    He'd fuck them all later.

    After the masquerade was over.

    When the rest of Yancey's plans had fallen into place and he didn't have to race his mind around from one subject to another like a locoweeded bronco.

    Yancey buttered his lower lips with saliva from his tongue.

    Scraped it off with his eye fangs.

    Yancey aligned a nude figurine from Uncle Roy's collection between the haunches of another finely modeled statuette. Ceramic cock went right into the other one's cunt.

    From behind.

    And from the front.

    With nuance.

    One could even configure the small sculptures into a blowjob, cuntsuck, or the venerable number sixty-nine Yancey had encountered worldwide in his scholarly studies and throughout recorded history.

    One thing Yancey knew about Uncle Roy:

    That boy had either good taste or good judgment or both.

    With respect to both the selection of the artifacts in. Uncle Roy's collection and the women he kept on premises.

    Yancey removed the objects from the table and returned them to their indexed slots in among the rows of glass-fronted case-stalls aligning the walls and most of the room's interior.

    He pulled, out a painted clay whistle molded in the shape of a cock-and-balls assemblage.

    Fondled a tube for suction that protruded from the flews of a cunt shaped jug.

    Drove his eyes through a crack in the doorway in response to shifting rays of light from the other side. The door creaked open a bit wider of its own accord or from a draft.

    Or perhapsYancey gasped.

    Saw Little Ramona's ass.

    The flash of Sallie Anne's tits.

    In the mirror of the cabana in which the two women were now showering and changing. And something else was disarranging the shadows.

    Yancey pulled a disappointed jaded mirthless-as-a-skull droll smile.

    The stud Lafayette had been in there all the while, probably.

    Had waited for the girls.

    Or had they invited him in to begin with?

    "If it's any of my biz," Little Ramona chirruped, "I'd like to know what you are doing in here, Lafayette. This is the girls' room."

    Little Ramona shook her ass past the hissing shower stall and ducked into the mist. She grinned as Sallie Anne's wet boobs loomed in the watery just about even with the level of her face.

    They embraced.

    "Skedaddle, Lafayette," Sallie Anne prattled. "We're cleaning up now. "

    "Sallie Anne, the boys be asking about those chippies was supposed to show up for their pleasure down at them little houses-"

    "I gave the girls the numbers of the bungalows. They should be there presently-"

    "But if they don't-"

    "We'll face those boners if and when they come about. Now hustle out _ "

    Sallie Anne slid a bit sideways and her nipple lugged into Little Ramona's eyesocket. Her boob-cage encased Little Ramona's face.

    "You two sisters?" Lafayette said, festering in his seat on one of the benches. "You related to Sadie Mae? And that means to Uncle Roy too?"

    Titters from the shower.

    "Out, boy."

    Blasts of steam vapor cascaded through the air enveloping the girls from ankles to headhair. It was hard for Lafayette to make out what they might be doing in there.

    Bathing serenely together in the cloud of steam. "Screwy," he blistered to himself.

    Blew out: "Chicks do all that stuff with each other all the time and think nothing of it. Just set down a chunk of hung cockflesh and a sack of marbles beside them and they get all ga-ga and go for it in their heads they want to marry you-instead of goodtime fucking and sucking."

    Lafayette did not know that much about this town. But he had been assured early in his life that his mom had once been the wife of the famous and rich and purportedly larcenist adventurer and explorer Uncle LeRoy LaRue.

    Now how did that go?

    The bloodlines were confusing as sin and as thick or thin as you liked.

    He hiked his leather leggings out of his boots. Stripped the pantlegs open with the zippers running up the sides.

    Frigged open his leather vest. Lafayette stood naked as rawhide except for his knee-high boots and studded vest.

    If these fillies were also somehow sired by Uncle Roy via one of his official or unofficial wives or were otherwise kissing cousins to Lafayette: Why, Lafayette had every right to want to smooch them good night.

    "The fuck out of here, dear," it was Little Ramona who peeped Wearily. "But before you go, Lafayette you might as well make yourself useful to us in some way. Get us the soap-"


    "Over in the tray in the shower stall by the wall near the-"

    "I'm there already."

    Steadily, Lafayette stroked the bar of soap along his sturdy cock.

    Got the head especially all frothed and lathery. Worked up a veritable cloudbank about his nuggets. Stuck the soap into his blowhole.

    "Hurry the fuck up, cocksuck. What are you- jerking yourself off?"

    "Not by a longshot."

    Lafayette jerked his nipples crisply and walked into the misted shower stall.

    "Big fucking deal," Little Ramona squealed. "So I bet you're nude too."

    "Where's the suds," Sallie Anne chewed.

    "Down here holding it," Lafayette chittered biting his lower lip.

    Sallie Anne reached for it.


    Her fist squeaked on over the head of Lafayette's soaped-up hard-on.

    "This," Little Ramona emitted in a high-pitched bitch-is-pissed bark, "is where this girl bails out. How about it, Sallie Anne?"

    Sallie Anne ran her hand along Lafayette's soaped-up twanger. He took a half step forward and automatically banged her.


    Greased up prick slipped neatly between Sallie Anne's inner and outer labia.

    Sprouted into her cuntfolds.

    Sallie Anne's cuntlips took hold.

    "Hurts," Sallie Anne slathered. "It's the soap on your dick, you idiot!"

    "Got it in quick."

    "And you'll get it out quicker."

    Little Ramona wrapped herself in a torn towel as she witnessed her sister Sallie Anne kick off with cocked heel directly into Lafayette's ballocks. Smiled as he howled.


    Ramona saw through the cleft in the doorjamb Yancey in the storeroom at a table examining some of Uncle Roy's erotic statuary and body decorations. Casually ramming one of his hands down below the tabletop.

    She heard a jingle and saw his pants drop from his knees underneath the table. Then Ramona reached into a locker and pulled out a loaded gun.

    Snicked the firing pin hoping the sound was covered by the liquid hiss of the shower.

    She ran the magazine around two clicks to examine the chambers of the brand-new copy of the vintage Colt.45 single-action army revolver with filed hair trigger to enable the gunner to fan from one side of the street or the room to the other or, as preferences or situations dictated, to fire repeatedly-directly and more leanly than an automatic machine-pistol-at, for example, someone's chest. Uncle Roy used only the best.

    Little Ramona tested the heft of the gat against her breasts.

    Assumed a posture of indifference beneath a loosely slung blouse and flouncy skirt. Skirted her eyes toward the misty shower stall.

    Waltzed through the door.

    "Listen, Lafayette," Sallie Anne said, moving back a fraction. "That stinger of yours really stings inside me."

    "You better get the soap of."

    "Jack you off? Ha! If I could only find it you might have a chance."

    "Find this?"

    He stuck his dick into her fist. Sallie Anne opened her mouth and deliriously sucked shower water as she shook Lafayette's rod.

    Jerked the soap off.

    Rubbed down dingdong.

    Took it sideways inside her.

    Cunthide searing with soaking pecker sunk in past the neck.


    Lafayette layered his nuts over the insides of Sallie Anne's thighs as he rutted upward and onward in growing heat.


    Sallie Anne heat upon Lafayette's back with warped fist.

    She twisted her clawlike fingernails over his deltoids and lats, Lafayette's muscles flattening and stretching and bulging sinuously along his shoulders and back, Sallie Anne dropped her digits to his asscrack.

    He pulsed back.


    Impaled his pucker on her thumb.


    Lafayette opened his yawp like a garish phantasm of orgasm.

    His mind glazed with the errant thought that this hot twat. might well be his bitchin cousin. Kissing cousin.

    Sizzling slick chick stuck-to-the-quick with his very own cock cousin.

    If so, he could very well see where the serendipity of his encounter with the legacy of the man who bore the moniker of Uncle Roy might take him. Was it destiny?

    Or merely the sensual attraction so often found among siblings.

    Sallie Anne was giggling.

    Wriggling on his dingdong.

    Getting off.

    Lafayette powered the next rutfuck thrust and pressed Sallie Anne's fanny against the tiled walls of the shower.

    Sallie Anne's hair was glossy slickness as she twisted her face toward the spray of the shower. Her teeth glowed in climactic rictus.

    Gobs of cuntcome ran from her flews.

    "I want juice," Sallie Anne- slithered from between her gurgling lips.

    Her body went boneless and she slid down his lap. Lafayette lowered his crouch.


    Sallie Anne twisted her thumb upward in his bum to help keep Lafayette's cock from slipping out in the throes of rut.

    Lafayette pulsed his pullulating penis within the labyrinthine corridors of Sallie Anne's labia. Orchidine ballocks wrenched singing clitoris as Lafayette yanked his dick out.

    Sallie Anne bawled:


    Come spouted from Lafayette's pricktip and dripped in dollops onto Sallie Anne's tits. She kissed dick.

    Slickness of semen mixing with the vaporous streaming of shower mist.

    Kissing cousins kissed.

    Chapter 3

    Big prick sticking up with its head just visible. Hovering like an inflated dirigible above the edge of the table top.

    Yancey popped his hand up and down the length. Bracing his ballocks.

    Hooking them underneath with a tweak as he leafed through a small sheaf of marbled papers upon which were mounted delicate traceries in feathers and leather featuring bodies in artistic and athletic portrayal of the fucksuckrut.

    Yancey sensed the movement out of the corner of his eyes. He wasn't wise-he assumed it was female because it slinked in from the women's cabana.

    Of course it presumably could have been Lafayette, whom he had spied there before through the askance door, or any other of the rawhide dudes laid out about the establishment.

    But Yancey had more or less been expecting something like this.

    A little more expectant than less, as a matter of fact.

    But not exactly like that-outlined in crisp silhouette within the door frame.

    Ramona cracked a smile tightly around what looked like a set of smallish piranha teeth. Slicked her tongue out over her lower lip.

    Swathed her chin.

    Tiny tits bouncing rhythmically.

    Pelvis wincing jittery.

    Piplike nippletips circlets of pinkness scanned through the frilliness of her diaphanous blouse of ruffles and lace.

    Trace of pussy seen through the pleats of her flouncy skirt of net gauze.

    Gun held in front of her face.

    "Like Uncle Roy's collection that much?" Little Ramona chewed lewdly through crudely screwed and rudely ruby-colored roundel mouthlips.

    "So far," Yancey muttered aimlessly not bothering to move his hands.

    "Take it out, motherfucker. Take your cock out where I can see it."

    Yancey was motionless.

    With no apparent motive.

    "Don't move, Yancey. Don't breathe. But move that thing or lose it."

    Yancey reflexively tightened his anal sphincter. His dick danced from where he had opened his pants and let them slide over his knees.


    Hard-on hovered.

    "Slooooowly. Extremely so, bigboy. I don't want to see any slick moves."

    Yancey snapped his knees together.

    Slid his lowered pants off over his boots-or tried to.

    Bent lower as Little Ramona lowered her aim equivalently with a leveling action of the big Colt revolver.

    "Stand up. And don't move another muscle but that one right below your turn-turn or I'll blow your ballocksoff."


    Yancey bent tighter to massage his bootheels over his toenails.

    Cockmeat stabbing him just below the chest at the bottom of his ribcage or at least as high as his bellybutton Ramona's eyes told her though she couldn't believe it.

    Yancey stood easily.

    "You know what I want, Yancey."

    "I gather I'm supposed to."

    Yancey eyed his own Remington firearm now out of harm's way for the moment on the floor nestled in the holster affixed to the belt of his trousers.

    "Kick it over," Ramona brayed. "Okay, stay stiff that way."

    Yancey stood immobile save for the bubble of his pricktip and the fluttering of his nuggets. He could not budge.

    "Read my cuntlips. Do you feel lucky today? Tell me, punk. Do you?"

    "Not particularly."

    Yancey kicked his pants with the attached gunbelt halfway toward Ramona's ankles.

    "Go ahead. Make my day."

    Yancey strayed his tongue out and about his narrowly assholed mouthlips.

    He spread his tongue wide and then spread his mouth too.

    Grin slashed from the center of his chin to his earlobes emanating the smugness of the satiated feline predator or the underside reptilian leer of an engorged penis.

    "You want it, hermana Ramona. Any way I can throw it to you. Want to taste it in the face. In your hiney. Below your waist."

    "What are you a doctor in anyway?"

    "You want it in mouth, ass, and cunt and can come just like that-look, ma, no hands! — with prick in any of your glands."

    "My man is wise. Just don't go cracking off like that too loudly-"

    "Little Ramona also fucks her hermanas-her sisters. Ramona chinga su hermanas. Toca sus tatas grarides en su chochita y culito. Ychzca hermana Ramona chupa sus labias con picas de los dientes de su boca encantada."

    "Can't you speak English when you talk such filthy nonsense, Yancey? You must think I'm bilingually illiterate."

    Yancey chattered as if in dreary translation during a Spanish class:

    "Ramona fucks her sisters. Takes their big boobs in her little cuntie pie and little asshole. And little sister Ramona blisters their cuntlips with nips from those teeth of her enchanted mouth."

    "Cocksure, Yancey. You are a wiseguy all right. But not entirely correct as to what you construe is going to happen to you."

    "What did I ever do?"

    "What you are going to do is fuck my mouth, fuck my ass, fuck my cunt. With your face."

    Ramona traced a tight trapezoid in the air with the barrel of the pistol.

    She pointed the gun at his pecker.

    Aimed it at his nuts.


    "Start fucking my face with your face, sucker. Suuuuu-uck it."

    Yancey sucked his lower lip thoughtfully.

    "But first, Yancey. Let's get the little matter of your firearm out of the way."

    Yancey quietly moved his foot toward his trousers. Slid the pile of pants with the holster and repeater and slender bandolier laced through the beltloops well out of easy reach.

    "Now be a peach to me, Yancey."

    Ramona gaped her mouth.

    Stuck her tongue out.

    He sucked it.

    Oral appendages dazzled the insides of each other's maws.

    Sucking cheeks of mouths inside out. Running teeth along gums.


    Strumming mouthlips. Slipping with straightened hard-on tongues.

    Lingual organs licked out and up. Yancey*s spread tongue hit Ramona's nostrils dead-on and mashed them to her face.


    Yancey's penis wavered exposed to the draft as his balls lofted up her thigh.

    As he rode into her eyefolds with wisplike whips of his lingual meat.

    He chewed up into Rarnona's eyesockets. Shellacked her hair with saliva.


    Without a trace of remorse, Yancey had no recourse but to put Little Ramona at the whims of her misery.

    He furled his tongue into a tight scroll. Pressured it into her nose.

    Blew out.


    Fucked her nostril with his tongue. Ran his jawbone rat-tat-tat along her trap.

    Went for her gun and his liekety-split, at once, simultaneously.

    And heard her trigger click.

    "Watch it, Yancey, That was my warning shot. I took one cartridge out-"

    Yancey suckered her snout.

    Moved his maw along her cheekbones and closed in on her ear.

    "You better get the butt of your gun in my possession," Ramona intoned as deadly as though it were a confessional.

    Yancey lapped into her earcup.

    Cupped his palms about her two braless puplike titties as if asking alms.

    "Take your fucking mitts off of my tits* Keep your yip dripping and work it swift, Hand your gun over and we can have some more fun."

    Yancey reached in back of his waist. Drew his derringer and swung it into her face. She licked it from his fist.

    Spat the little pistol out and tittered as it skittered across the floor.

    Ramona's engorged earlobes were loaded into Yancey's mouth. Pleasing pulls upon her earrings sent shudders searing down her spinal column to her sphincter and clitoris.


    Yancey gnawed the backs of Ramona's ears. Lapped down her neck.


    Ramona released the string of her loose frilled bodice and two choice titlets tart as wild cherries and pointed as darts smartassed out.

    Yancey clenched his jaw about her bared shoulder. Drooped maw lower.

    Took the flesh between her chest and bicep into his lips and sucked it like the petal of a flower. Licked langorousiy.

    Into her armpit.


    He worked her underarms to a froth. Brought his mouth into play between her boobs.

    Yancey moved lower as he unwound Ramona's wrapped skirt which hung wraithlike from her hinders while Yancey chewed her navel to cinders. Bellybutton blazed like clitbud.


    Yancey slicked quickly down the outside of one of Ramona's gams.

    Ran his pointed pricktongue between her rows of piggietoes on both feet.


    "Want to come?"

    "There's more to it, chum, I've got an itch. Fuck my bum. With your face."

    Yancey ratcheted his head between Ramona's legs. Broke between her fannymeat.

    "Scratch it."

    Yancey whisked his chin over Ramona's assrim. The beard stubble sheared clearly across the donut-shaped bubble.


    Bristles nettled inside the crinkled ridges of Ramona's rosebud.

    Yancey snicked the barbs of his moustache sideways across Ramona's asshole. Her hips rolled on horizontal axis.

    Nestled in asskiss.

    Asshole smooched into his puckering mouthlips; Saliva skipped from his yip.


    Ramona's asshole gave way like London bridge falling down-my fair lady's buttocks broke out loud as she shook her hinders.


    Ramona blew from her blowhole.


    Spasmic attacks shook Ramona's buns for another round of thunder.


    From her asscrack.

    Ramona farted again:


    Tooted once more as she tumbled cackling to the floor. Yancey boring into her.

    Yancey squeezed his tongue into the interior of Ramona's posterior.

    Asshole yammered.

    Tongue stammered.

    Maw hammered anus.



    Swerved tonguetip in corkscrew action in her anal grip.


    Yancey drew his oral assemblage away from Ramona's shimmering fanny.

    Licked up her crack.


    Nudging with his nose, Yancey tugged the inside of Ramona's asshide.

    Licked her underside along the posterior commissure running in a folded seam of skin delineating her perineum.

    Suckering the slick patch between the lower rim of her anus and her pubic patch.

    "Are you ready for this?" Ramona twitched the hair trigger of her revolver.

    Yancey chuckled into nothingness.

    "That one wasn't there either, sister," Yancey said as Ramona waved the gun above her sweat-drenched hair.

    "Not fair," Ramona leered. "I must have taken two out. But no doubt the next one-"

    "I saw from the other end of the magazine when you were pointing it at me. The rest are filled. But they're blanks."


    Ramona pulled the trigger.


    Dried timbers shook at the top of the room. She fingered another.


    Noises from the next room.

    "I should tell you, Yancey, about those cartridges Uncle Roy had made up-look like blank ones but loaded with small-gauge buckshot."

    Ramona strutted her butt in front of YanceyJs face, twirled on her toes and slunk spread-legged into place.

    Buckled to the deck of the table as Yancey bent to gobble up enormous quaffs of her cuntcome straight from her flews.


    Ramona jacked off Yancey with her feet as he reached deeper inside of her cuntal squint with lingual lunges.


    Yancey trimmed Ramona's clitoris above the forest of her thighs with high snide rises and falls of his entire oral assemblage.

    He danced his tapered tonguetip across the face of her clitflesh.


    Took clit between his incisors. Clicked his teeth tightly.


    Sucked the clitbud with bellowing action of his facecheeks. Strafing pinkmeat to tenderness such that it sang.

    Then Yancey's mouthlips twanged Ramona's clitmeat while she moved her own mouth maniacally and soundlessly.


    Eternally speechless.

    Abruptly she screeched:


    Ramona spiraled off into orgasmic oblivion. Fidgeting digits clawed her clit.

    She loaded her labia into Yancey's muttering maw as he sawed into her with barracuda grin. Lifting her hinders, Yancey stoked a couple of fingers into Ramona's buttery asshole.

    Cuntbroth boiled.

    Juices oiled her innertubes.

    Yancey cockhead roiled with the energy of hard-on white-hotness. His ballocks were blown up like beachballs.

    Ramona pawed his gonads. ran her fingers at his anus and suckered along the insides of his thighs about his kneecaps as Yancey sucked Ramona's paps.

    Puckering his mouth about her boobs. Sucking them down.

    Stretching them out.


    Snapping them back onto her boobcage.

    Yancey began sputtering along Ramona's ribs. One thumb up Ramona's bum.

    The other hooked onto the cuff of his discarded pants, which he had just drawn up behind him with one of his big toes.

    Yancey torqued Ramona's body about.

    "Bullshit," she spat directly into his teeth. "Motherfucker," right into his eyes.

    Half blinded by Ramona's spittle, Yancey gave up the quest for his gun and went instead for the pistol in Ramona's hand.

    Ramona jawed bitterly:

    "Gawddamn motherrfucking sistersucking son of a bitching asshole-eating-"

    "Not very sisterly words, Little Ramona. Shame on you for using your mouth that way."

    Ramona beat Yancey to his own gun. Came up with it in her fist.

    Yancey had Ramona's opposing wrist deftly in his grip and shifted his weight.


    Easily twisted her Colt to the floor.

    Both of them swarmed for it.

    Yancey snagged the weapon into the corner with a sidesweeping thrash of his open-palmed hand and blocked Ramona's advance with a kick into the center of her hiney as the gun bounced heavily off the trim at the bottom of two walls arid chipped across the slatted floorboards pretty nearly right into Yancey's rummaging paws.

    Ramona snorted.

    Attempt to recover firearm aborted, Rarnona did not give pigshit anyway.

    Awesomely, Ramona turned around.

    Got down on her knees.

    Pointed Yancey's Remington at his pecker. As he directed her Colt toward the floor right about where her clitbud was.

    "Please," Ramona said. "Show some courtesy. Preserve some dignity if you will."

    "Blow me."

    "Of course, I must slake my thirst. How fast can you burst off some jizzom?"

    "Never timed it."

    Ramona bit it.


    Tongued the grinning cockhead with slow and deadly dredges of her lingual organ, Then chawed the balls to porridge.


    Ramona played ring-around-the-rosie with Yancey's asshole.

    Sniffed, it like posies.

    Both of them held their respective guns-each originally belonging to the other one-aimed more or less at the ready as Ramona scratched Yancey s ass and blew him.

    Rubbing her ruby-tipped titties down his thighs to his knees as she squeezed her head back stretching the dihgalingdong out long.


    Yancey's boner exploded like a galactic nebula. Stardust streaked through the air.

    Shining cosmic jizzomic milky way sprayed across Ramona's tresses, Constellations of come stuck to Ramona's eyelashes, Sashes of joyjuice were strung like traceries of spiraling shooting stars from her chin to the tips of her titties.

    "Looks so pretty."

    "Now you're getting dirty."

    Another chuckle of cockcream curdled through the air in a slow low arc.


    Flatly on her chin.


    Hung from her jowls like the wattles of a gobbling fowl.

    Ramona trailed her tongue out and caught the next jolt of jizzom fired randomly from Yancey's pullulating penis.

    Ramona snickered as her bickering maw gagged down his gonads one at a time.

    She snuggled his legs with her thighs. Slid down easily and contorted.

    Tripping Yancey with squeezes of her gluteus till he toppled.


    "We're both going for the derringer now, I take it. Don't fake it."

    Ramona loaded her maw with Yancey's balls. He chawed on her labia…

    "You know, Ramona," Yancey said mincing tripe, "! think I understand your type."

    "Oh? More than I do."

    "Almost as though we were kin."

    "I'm listening."

    "This other stuff was a ploy. What I'm mainly here for is to find a way to get Uncle Roy out of where he is now."

    "How we gonna do that?"

    "Many ways to peel a pussy."

    "That's no answer."

    "He has a chance for parole-"

    "Not for years the rap he's on-not what he was convicted of but what he's really in. for."

    "I was wondering about that. All I knew was the crap in the newspaper. So he was obviously framed. We could have it overturned."

    "Uncle Roy bookwormed that one at the prison library already. No dice. Sides-it was the law trained Uncle Roy just to get him out of their hair. Didn't know he'd still be operating full swing from in there."

    "Whatever happens, Ramona dear-you and your sisters come in for a share. Where are they? should take a meeting posthaste."

    Chapter 4

    Random whoredom, boredom or call it what you might-Sadie Mae knew that Mercedes was not the kind of kid who got uptight about a little public nudity.

    She was most certainly not a prude.

    Mercedes portrayed herself avidly as an east coast whitegal preppie debutante with debauchery and narcissism her stock in trade.

    As it often is in such cases, Mercedes shot her yip off about her family and all that-how rich they were and how many houses they had and where. Famous people in government and industry and the arts and sciences she was related to.

    Hucksters all.

    It was almost as if Mercedes's family's prominence had come about because of their traditional ancestral bouts with the fucksuckrut. Such a brood needed a lot of joyjuice passed between them to keep the blueblood genes flowing.

    Mercedes's offhand remarks about brothers and sisters blowing and sucking.

    Sibling fucking.

    Sadie Mae was therefore under the impression that rich people in their estates and compounds and private beaches-this was the height of discretion-explored the same reaches of depravity and obsession as did the stereotypic view attribute-as a for-instance-to the denizens of the American redneck outback.

    "Now, tell me truly. How would you all define an Arkansas virgin?"

    "Why, sir-that's a sister who can run faster than her brothers. Ask me another."

    Trailer park frolics.

    Sex-mad carnies.

    And of course those smirking cracks about blacks or jigaboos or what have you fucking like junglebun-nies in the ghetto. Or the kinky spic kicks wetbacks were supposedly into.

    Mick tricks behind the lace curtains of animalistic Irish immigrants.

    Economic and ethnic and social class distinctions were aimless when one regarded the overall pattern of human shamelessriess.

    Such remarks were well applied to the carnality of the rich and famous.

    Sadie Mae saw that all of the trashmouthing about people's cultures was the work of vultures who fed on the carrion of incivility.

    Propriety was simply a guise.

    Guilt and shame were manipulative games.

    People were all the same.

    They all opened their legs and spread their fannies wide.

    All stuck their penises inside.

    Here upper-crusty whitebitch Mercedes had already screwed-and she blew them too-two dudes in the booth at Uncle Roy's Roadhouse saloon.

    And now it seemed as though Mercedes were coming on to Sadie Mae.

    Sadie Mae knew enough not to let words get in the way.

    But her head was in disarray.

    She had heard of lesbians.

    Women who were queer for each other.

    Liked to play kissyface.

    Slapslit and tug-the-titty.

    Sadie Mae thought it was rather silly.

    Wasn't much to get all worked up about.

    About that.

    Fillies frisking about.

    "I'll have another," Sadie Mae said brightly, tossing the empty beer bottle up into the air. She noted the light friction of Mercedes's painted fingernails near the lower lobe of her tail.

    Just underneath the ragged fringe of Sadie Mac's cutoff shortshorts.

    At the moment, Sadie Mae was oblivious to the livid presence of the two jock dudes who had been gleefully ascrew upon Mercedes for the last hour or two before Sadie Mae had stuck her nose in.

    It was perhaps unseemly for the three of them to have been reaming and creaming right here in Uncle Roy's Roadhouse.

    They could easily have rented one of the bungalows. That was precisely the sort of assignation the accommodations were meant for.

    But there was something to be said for taking it when it hit you.

    The spontaneity.


    Casual display of feeling.

    Sadie Mae's mind was reeling.

    She could not blame them at all for balling all over the place.

    Especially Sadie Mae could not deny Randy and Bubba Buster their appetites. For Mercedes looked mighty fine lying there on the table.

    Spread out like a snicksnack or a picnic barbecue. For the eyes a feast.

    Pug-nosed nipples glazed over with wash of rutsweat and pebbles of come.

    Ribs roasting below the boobs. The concave curve of Mercedes's tumtum.

    Yeasty quim brimming over.


    Bubbling cream.

    With a shudder, Sadie Mae realized she would like to have some.

    Ream her.

    Then suck up her asshole.

    Was it simply an internal image of Sadie Mae's fullblooded yet stifled lust?

    Or was she justly aroused?

    Would she act it out?

    Sadie Mae for the moment stood there drinking from a new bottle of beer.

    As Mercedes looked queerly up underneath the hem of Sadie Mae's shortshorts.

    And peered with a calculated leer-obviously cocking her head-up Sadie Mae's lownecked tit-clinching halter-top teeshirt.

    As if Mercedes were flirting.

    Feeling up Sadie Mae with her peepers.

    And-Sadie Mae thought blindly, though she was trying desperately not to think at al! — Sadie Mae did not mind Mercedes's look.

    Not at all

    She enjoyed it.

    The thought.

    But not particularly the touch.

    Not too much.

    Enough was enough.

    But Sadie Mae was tough.

    She would rough it out.

    Mercedes's fingers lingered gingerly upon Sadie Mac's bare waist as-Bubba stabbed a cigarette into the side of Mercedes's twisted mouthlips and Randy lit the stick up.

    The boys were quietly joking. Poking their fingers into each other's chest arid armpits as they sucked down hits of beer and smoke.

    As if waiting for something to happen between Mercedes and Sadie Mae.

    As if they knew something would and they were enjoying the suspense.

    Sadie Mae saw that as innocence, She might have the wildest of dreams and fantasies.

    But she didn't have to act them out.

    Not here.

    In evidence of Sadie Mac's comrnitment to keeping herself neat emotionally, she told herself she felt nothing at all for any of this crowd.

    Crinkled her forehead.

    She took Mercedes's wrist and led her up into her navel.

    Was she actually doing this?

    Why was she doing this?

    Sadie Mae's skin flushed in the face and down her neck.

    Pinkness piqued her shoulders and her quim began to smolder.

    Her reaction was tame-Sadie Mae thought. Not like some other's Sadie Mae had seen in various locker rooms, dormitories, and latrines.

    Sisterly activity.

    All in the family of woman.

    Gal pals pussying around.

    Of course, sometimes when the girls got to fucking around it was almost as if they were really getting down.

    Sure-some dollbabies Sadie Mae had come.across had definite proclivities.

    The way such dames went for pussy was with a withering passion that was perhaps hotter than their flame for cock.

    Those girls would snot up each other's box. Shove their fingers wedged together with their thumbs and run them up each other's innards to make each other come.

    Phalanges flickering across and within each others hides.

    Fidgeting digits in the backside, cuntcrack, up the back from the spine to the nape of the neck. So hot and wet.

    Punching the pussy.

    Fistfucking fanny.

    Oral intercourse digitally.

    There was the smooching of cuntlips some girls called the bitchkiss.

    Then the flatfuck wherein females frictioned their entire hotbods against each other. When you pressed the pussy apart and rubbed it into clit and quim it was known as platypussing.

    And Sadie Mae viewed with amusement the stories about when some damsels got it in. Fucked with their clitorises.

    If a clit hard-on was thick enough. If when engorged the nattering pip pricked up and out from the pubic poutYou could screw with it.

    Stick the clitoris between the labia and fuck with it.

    Called it cuking-when you could do it.

    And even called it that when you just played at it and really couldn't get the little clitnib in anything. Just rubbed it real fast.

    Against another chick's ass.

    Or you could cuke in the face-that was a variation of sistersucking. Or buck your cunny on their back while playing cowgirls.

    Sadie Mae had heard tell of-or had imagined on her own-some nifty switches.

    Bitches whipping each other with their long sweat-sweetened braided hair.

    Running their tresses through their teeth. Pressing strands up into each orifice and coming when yanked from quim and bum.

    And the butch ones.


    Babes who wore pitch-black metal-studded leather dildos and fucked each other in the bucket, cunt. Even blew each other.

    Sadie Mae had overheard some hardbod college cuties talking about Sappho the poetess and her girls gagging down each other's goodies sometime back in ancient Greece.

    Sadie Mae did not know if she herself qualified as a dyke.

    It had never struck tier as such.

    But then, hitherto Sadie Mae had never actually done that much.

    One thing she did know was that she had a hankering for a suck on Mercedes's cunt. And for her to suck hers.

    "Okay now, Sadie Mae?" Randy said, hoisting another beer toward her.

    Bubba Buster thumped his twanger dangerously near to the side of Sadie Mae's head. Legs spread wide and glistening.

    Dicktip snickering.

    Balls slung low.

    "I gotta go," Sadie Mae sighed.

    She opened her legs wide.

    "Stay, Sadie Mae," Mercedes brayed center stage, splayed across the table of the booth.

    Her pubic mount was a frost of partially congealed cuntcome and prickjizz. Her engorged clitoris shone brightly.

    Pusslips concealed by the raveled threads of her well-torn fuck-welted twat.

    Sadie Mae was hot.

    Spasms flashed round her assrim.

    Simmered in her quim.

    Shimmering cold and heat beat from Sadie Mae's clitineat to the peaks of her tits. Desert dryness gripped her craw.

    Then a gush of saliva inward over her gullet. Sadie Mae felt it coming.

    "I gotta go. Now. Have to peepee."

    Mercedes spoke boldly, coldly. As if dribbling the obvious to a sniveling idiot sibling, she snarled directly at Sadie Mae's snatch:

    "You gotta pee, Sadie Mae?" Mercedes flared her nostrils mercilessly.

    "Use me-"

    "Pardon?" Sadie Mae spoke with a clit hard-on that spiked her up the spine to the back of her brain. "Mercedes, I thought you said-"

    "Drench me."

    Randy blurted:

    "Jesus Fuckingchrist the third!"

    Bubba blathered:

    "My word!"

    "Turn your cutoffs down, Sadie Mae," Mercedes cooed. "That's the way. Slide them down those lickable legs of yours."

    Sadie Mae shot her head around.

    "Now climb up on the table," Mercedes babbled. "With me."

    Sadie Mae tentatively bit her lips. Knelt next to the stripped and glistening Mercedes.

    "I can feel your bodyheat, Sadie Mae. Closer now. Crouch right over me."

    Sadie Mae moved her eyes away from Mercedes's face. Ignored the porous gazes of Randy and Bubba sitting there watching with blazing hard-ons.

    Down by the bungalows there was the glow of coals as the band members roasted up some feed. Sounds of automobile engines and squeals of girls.

    The whores Sadie Mae's sister Sallie Anne had lined up for the musical boys were arriving now.

    The power of the imagery of fucksuckrut surrounding Sadie Mae blew through her ears. She didn't hear at first" Sadie Mae. I asked you to straddle my face. As if you were riding and I am the saddle. But please, whatever you do-don't touch me."

    Sadie Mae did so.

    "Watch it, babydoll," Mercedes bawled. "I don't want to get wet just yet."

    Nostrils flared as Sadie Mae snorted. Blared snot from her snout.

    She let it all hang out.


    Sadie Mae shimmied her ass from side to side.

    "Wheee!" Mercedes lowed. "Tee hee hee. I can see Sadie Mae's aaaaassssshole!"

    Sadie Mae churned her groin.

    Her bladder burned.

    "Let's go!"

    Fizzle drizzled from her cuntfolds.

    "Sadie Mae, I can see your peeeeehole too."

    Trickling liquid weaseled down the insides of Sadie Mae's legs.

    Draining to her kneecaps.

    Striating her thighs with urine. Spattering her calves with her own piss.

    Mercedes kissed the air.


    Gargled Sadie Mae's drizzle.

    Mercedes twirled her straightened hard-on tongue like a swizzle stick.

    Shot her yip up.

    Smacked Sadie Mae in the clit.


    Rivulets of piss striped Mercedes's whitegirl neck. Micturition fizzed as it spread over Mercedes's ultra-white shoulders.

    Frothed down her back.

    Sadie Mae's pizzle dashed down between Mercedes's boobs. Perking up the nippletips and filling the navel.

    Mercedes bucked her bellybutton up from the table. Sadie Mae's drizzle sniped through the opening between Mercedes's curitlips.

    Writhing sideways once again. Mercedes's tan-dying backbone rubbed inside Sadie Mae's groin, Piss smarted up her asshole.


    Sadie Mae chittered like a chimpanzee as she frittered with her clitoris.

    Dampness of her forest.

    Voracious activity of Mercedes's rnaw.


    Sadie Mae sniffed the headiness of the years of spilled liquor, spent cockcome and girljizz, oxidized fuckjuices that soaked through the furniture of the saloon.

    She pissed and swooned.

    The brew kept flowing from her barrel.

    Mercedes had Sadie Mae flat out on the table now. Tugging her jugs.

    Running her long sharp and painted fingernails down the outside of Sadie Mae's boobcage. Engaging Sadie Mae orally and digitally.


    Mercedes gnawed far and wide. From Sadie Mae's sweat-curled coif to her underside.

    Hammered her choking maw into Sadie Mae's blowhole and ate her for an instant before poking her tongue in.

    Piss blistered Mercedes's face as she chomped beneath Sadie Mae's buttocks.


    Mercedes yanked her clenched yawp up from Sadie Mae's twat.


    Tufts of cuntfur stuck to the outsides of Mercedes's mouth.

    She looked about.

    "Hey, guys," Mercedes mouthed. "Somebody please pick my teeth."

    Hungry fingers reached out.

    In the escalating delirium of Sadie Mae's serially spiraling orgasm, she peered into the chasm of sexuality.

    Took in at once her destiny.

    Let her mind go free.

    "Let's see," Sadie Mae screeched.

    Bubba yanked his long ranger with a. strange look in his eyes. Randy cried out loud as he shot another beer down.

    "Do it," Sadie Mae choked.

    Randy shot two fingers to his nuts to loosen them up.

    Readied his weenie.

    Took aim at the two girls shivering within their own liquid giggles.

    "Suck me, Mercedes. Please. I never knew this was tike this-"

    Sadie Mae twisted her own clitoris with her fist Grimaced.

    Placed her paws on either side of Mercedes's head. Bent into her.


    Mercedes sank her fangs into pissing pussy.

    Sucked slit.

    Kissed pusslips.

    Quaffed piss.

    Without a blink.

    Mercedes cackled and began to glow from below with a liquid halo of her own brew. Pissing sucksisters cavorted in gilt-tinged mist.

    Randy added his own broth to the stew. He strewed strips of liquid silver in high-flying arcs from his pricktip.

    Pizzle scampered over the backs of the two young ladies who drank mixed liquid from each other's cracks. Bubba backed off.

    Jacked off.

    Blew a wad of cockcome through the air to land upon the tightly entwined tresses of the girls who now bussed each other's breasts.

    "Hold onto me, Mercedes. Please don't let them take me away."

    "Don't worry, dollbaby. They'll take you right here. On top of me."

    Little Ramona worked the final squinks of jizz from Yancey's fizzling hard-on. She wiped the withered pecker between her legs.

    Lapped a few thick patched of cockcorne from her fingers and picked up Yancey's derringer. Twisted her hiney from where she had been sitting on his belly-her cunt smooching his chest.

    Asshole oinking up in rut action toward Yancey's mouth as she went down on his hawg. Loading her jowls with pork.

    "If what you say, Ramona, about the way they work the system here-if that's how they do it, I think I know a way to get Uncle Roy out of the jug before he goes stir crazy."

    Ramona belched lazily.

    "A little late for that kind of talk tonight, Yancey. But I guess I can rous up the rest of the clan for some serious discussion."

    Ramona rustled her clothing from the floor. Danced the derringer between her boobs.

    "Cute, Ramona. Now you just give me that pretty little popgun."

    "Give me my Colt.45."

    "If I'm alive after you get to fooling around with my Remington."

    "We call it quits?"

    "How about it?"

    "Okay. Exchange weaponry?"

    "When we get dressed."

    Lafayette had ignored the obvious gunshots from the next room as he had fucked cousin Sallie Anne in the cabana shower.

    Sallie Anne had not even lurched at the sounds of the bullets being fired. Lafayette thought that things were so wired around here it must happen all the time-gunslinging, fucking.

    Sallie Anne fucked Lafayette's cock with her ass. He bucked off a load of jizzom.

    Swinging his coming penis from Sallie Anne's keister, Lafayette turned face to face with Little Ramona and the deputy.

    "Randy and I have something to say."

    "Can't it wait until after we finish taking a fucking shower?" Sallie Anne slavered.

    "Where's Sadie Mae?" Sallie Anne said as she sashayed into the saloon at Uncle Roy's Roadhouse. "Here's her blouse-"

    Ramona's voice hacked:

    "Ah na. Na na-na na-na. Na na-na na-na. Na na-na. Na na-na. Na na-na na-na."

    "Fuckingchrist," Sallie Anne sprayed. "My very own sister. Sadie Mae-what are you doing?"

    Sadie Mae spoke through pliant maw:


    "Stop your fooling around now," Ramona jabbered. "You boys-Randy and Buhba-get back to the bungalow cabins-"

    "There's whores down there for yuh-" Sallie Anne chauvered.

    Ramona grabbed Sadie Mae by a wet hank of hair. Pulled her with a pop from on top of Mercedes. "Maybe Mercedes should be in on this too."

    Mercedes woozed in postorgasmic haze.


    Chapter 5

    Cuntlips choking ladyjuice in sluices beneath her business suit, Cassandra Louise Lafayette LaRue Jones Massey honed her hard clit with only the movements of her thighs as she was walking. High heels clicking down the halls.

    Echoing off the colorless, clean, uninviting tilework inset with metal-louvered willdowshades. She turned into a room barren of everything except a lamp, couple hardbacked chairs and a card table.

    Encamped there.

    Feeling the wetness from her crack exude through her underpants and perhaps cake onto the tops of her hose.

    Chewed a bit on a lit cigarette.

    Wrinkling her nose at the marks made on the filter by her lipstick.

    She knew her nipples were thick.

    And that if you looked straight there on her chest you could see her jugs through the prim blouse she wore.

    Dig at her dugs with your peepers through the scoring of lace stitchery on Cassie Lou's sneeringly cut brassiere.

    Cassie Lou allowed the lit faggot to dangle from her yip. Crossed her legs at the ankles.

    Began to think about having a drink.

    It was a mark of the respect this prisoner had among the penal system that when he was escorted to his meeting with an official from the pardon and parole board he was not led in shackles-no manacles, no guns pointed.

    Uncle Roy was just followed down the hall by a pack of uniformed guards.

    "Pardon me, men," Uncle Roy said to them with a wave. "I gotta duck in here for a bit."

    "You want luncheon?" one of the guardsmen said, idly fondling a truncheon.

    "Maybe later," Uncle Roy jawed. "Remember, I'm on a diet."

    "Turkey okay?"

    "Say-sounds right by me. But you can skip the gravy and add some fresh greens."

    He glanced through the door before he entered. Eyes centered unhesitatingly on a titular leer seeming to emanate from a tight set of jugs encased by a lacework brassiere that could be seen through sheer silk blouse.

    "Way to go, Cassie Lou," LeRoy LaRue chewed through a plug of tobacco as he walked into the room alone.

    "You know you shouldn't do that. Call me by a familiar name even before we've met."


    Uncle Roy sat even with Cassie Lou catercorner at the card table.

    "I knew when I heard from you, Cassie Lou, it would be goodgood news."

    "Your choice of words. Loads of other things in with most of the good things I know of."

    Uncle Roy reached out and patted one of Cassie Lou's paws at the wrist.

    "We're clear here, Cassie Lou. Speak softly and they can't overhear us-the echoes."

    "As you know, Cassandra Louise Jones is the name on my law degree. Then that hassle they called a marriage and I kept the Massey cause the mutt already had my money-"

    "Now that's funny-"

    "Won't be if they ever find out about the Lafayette strand of the LaRue brigade. I'd be packed away with a passle of bulldykes serving life in no time-"

    "Might try to pull your connections,"

    "On the other hand, my contact with you is tenuous enough to trace-"

    "The paper trail diverges from the flesh-"

    "So to speak."

    "Nevertheless," Uncle Roy expression did not change, "discretion is our advantage."

    Cassie Lou unloaded a sheaf of papers from her alligator briefcase.

    Eyes drove into his.

    She saw dick reflected in his irises.

    Assholes in his widening lens apertures, and a glaze come over his face.

    "Flatter me, why don't you, Uncle Roy. You won't get far that way."

    "I was just looking at you. You know they don't allow women in here with us."

    "Even though as one of your perquisites you do have private visits on occasion."

    "Those are my relations."

    "Little Ramona. Sadie Mae and Sallie Anne and the rest of your inbred clan. We know all about that fancy dalliance."

    "Let's cut the chitchat then and let the bargaining commence."

    "Too much we got on you to do that."

    "There was no evidence."

    "Now forgetting about the long-buried skeletons and our rotted family ties, there is not much I can do to convince the other members of the board to consider your parole-"

    "I did not request a parole review," his eyes were skewed toward her twat.

    "Your appeal won't come up for years. Now, Mister LaRue, what we can do-"

    "Doctor to you," Uncle Roy chewed as though serious. Then broke into a pricklike grin.

    "Ah, yes," Cassie Lou said, refreshed at the lightening of the situation. "And I see from your resume you were a professor. Dean of graduate fellows at State for a spell."

    "Well-that part was honorary-"

    "So then you blew it."

    Her eyes screwed into him…

    Uncle Roy blinked.

    "If your words were meant to burn me a bit, Cassie Lou, they sure did it. But not for the reasons you might think."

    "You didn't blow it. You call your present habitations a mark of success?"

    "I confess I am innocent of crime."

    "That and a dime gives me ten cents."

    "The goods found in my possession were originally stolen from their rightful owners. Those worked pieces of jade and the gold and silver jewelry were originally looted from the tombs of our cultural forebears on this continent."

    "You mean Indians."

    "Aztec, Apache, Hopi and Navajo. Comanche and Toltec and Maya and the-"

    "Nevertheless, the parties whose booty you stole are according to law the legitimate proprietors of those pieces."

    Cassie Lou obliviously strung out a leg and swished it along Uncle Roy's thigh as she twitched her gams slantwise crossed at the knees.

    "Add to that, Uncle Roy, your position as an expert as well as noted collector-all of it very substantially documented."

    "After years of gathering and preserving and cataloging those artifacts I was preparing to take advantage of the tax situation and donate my collection to the relevant tribal councils and country of origin-give it back to the Indians."

    He grinned.

    Cassie Lou quirked one side of her mouth and spoke out:

    "There was nothing in writing to substantiate any of those propositions-and the law is blind under those conditions."

    Uncle Roy lifted one eyebrow.

    Cassie Lou almost laughed out loud at the inconstancies of the shifting legal system. "I know that you know, Uncle Roy, that if those collectors were to go through the same channels now that they did then to get their prize pieces in the first place they might well be in your present situation instead of the other way around*"

    Cassie Lou also knew that Uncle Roy knew that she knew he could see through her layers of blouse and brassiere.

    "I heard all that," Uncle Roy cracked wisely, lighting a cigarette. "And I also understand why a law is not retroactive in application-don't want to criminalize acts after the fact-"

    "So as things go, Doctor LeRoy LaRue is the guilty one-"

    "If I hadn't run awry with the lawboys they wouldn't have come down on me-"

    "What can I tell you? It's not in the record of your court transcript that you accused certain art collectors who were also influential in the government of hiring members of the county sheriff's office to knock you off. That testimony was strictly hearsay and ruled tangential to the proceedings. It was subsequently stricken."

    "But you do remember it-"

    "Everyone at the state capitol heard about it and few would doubt it. Regardless of what was said. But I always reasoned there must have been more to it than that-"

    "Maybe I did have something else on the art collectors and museum wheeler-dealers that I did not tell. Perhaps a secret relationship."

    "You might have stiffed the deputies with respect to their expected payments of bribery regarding your varied enterprises. That amounts to larceny in their eyes."

    "More than sufficient, isn't it?"

    "You might try training your eyes not to look at my tits like that."

    "Mightn't I."

    "And stop licking your chops and pointing your tongue at my twat."


    "I want to die."

    "Can't get much higher."

    "If you're not embarrassed then it won't pay me to be," her eyes deflected from his. "Only gives you leverage on me. You had me going for a moment. Got a rise out of me."

    "Open your thighs."

    Cassie Lou felt her temperature rise.

    Surprised herself.

    "Is that your idea of sweet talking a woman? To come on like that?"

    "They call it a joke."

    "Only if it's funny."

    Cassie Lou's cunny was runny.

    Rutsweat slimed from her underarms and the itch in her asshole was terrible.

    Sweltering titmeat and hard-nosed nipples made Cassie Lou's clothing unbearable.

    She slipped her digits into her briefcase and filched a full pint flask of liquor from the innards. Sat two short glasses on the card table.

    Tumbled beige fluid into one of them. Shot it down without a blink.

    "Want a drink?" Cassie Lou said without looking directly at Uncle Roy.

    She filled her glass again to the brim. Rimmed her mouthlips.

    Slugged it down.

    Uncle Roy sipped his amber liquid as Cassie Lou chugalugged her third.

    She lit up a cigarette and watched Uncle Roy pause to flare up his own slim cheroot. He licked the tip and the length of the slender cigar.

    Held his yawp ajar.

    Triggered a lighter and ignited the tip.

    "Cute," Cassie Lou said. "Figure you'd get me to thinking blowjob."

    "Worked, didn't it?"

    "Something I once read about between thought and expression there lies a lifetime-"

    "Oh-one of those dirty French novelists. The absurd courts the vulgar: Marquis de Sade, Joris Karl Huysmans, Isidore Ducasse-Comte de Leaut-reamont. And one must not forget the erotic forays of Alain Robbe-Grillet, Simone de Beauvoir, Jean-Paul Sartre, Albert Camus-"

    "Speak English."

    "Fuck you."

    "See how easy it is?"

    "I guess I've been using a lot of my time inside to catch up on some literature I earlier neglected. You ever read Henry Miller, Iceberg Slim, Erica Jong-they're all-American-now William S. Burroughs, you see, writes a mean-"

    "Save the books for the latrine. I would like to explain how a pardon would operate."

    "But that would leave me as guilty. A pardon implies I was-"

    "Everyone important is familiar with your particular circumstances."

    Uncle Roy didn't say a word.

    Instead he was banking on Cassie Lou ingesting his hard-on with her eyes.

    He shifted his thighs.

    Leaned back in his chair.

    Pricktip felt as if it would tear through his underpants and trousers.

    Thick as a fist, the cockhead adorned the end of a limber finger of pullulating flesh running from the apex of Uncle Roy's crotch around the wad of his ballocks to the central part of his belly.

    Cassie Lou saw the head of Uncle Roy's hangar bulging near to his belt buckle.

    She thought she heard him chuckle, but his facial features did not move a muscle. His erection flexioned.

    Cassie Lou snapped her eyes away.

    "About the procedure for obtaining a pardon-" Cassie Lou gagged on the words.

    As she spoke the obvious jokes crackled through her mindscape:

    "Pardon my hard-on, ma'am."

    Cassie Lou read the headlines:


    And she threw it all aside.

    "What I might propose for you to consider, Uncle Roy, is to go for the pardon and when the next governor comes in go for it to have the original verdict overturned."

    "That way I don't have to make the present bunch of political cronies look so filthy-"

    "Yeah. Once you're out-you'll see. You'll want to chill down awhile," Cassie Lou almost smiled. "Speaking of chilling." She blew upward from her mouth. "Hot as hell in here."

    "Isn't it the truth."

    Cassie Lou loosened the ties of her bowed neckscarf and diffidently opened the top button of her blouse. She shucked her lightweight tailored suitjacket and tossed it over the back of her chair.

    Let out a breath.

    Belched on booze.

    Shot down another glug. Wiped her mug with the back of her wrist.

    "Scuse me."

    She bent forward over her knees and whipped her stockings down her legs to bare them. Then replaced her feet in her high-heeled shoes.

    "I don't want you to think I am a floozy. Just a bit woozy from the heat."

    "Here. Allow me."

    Uncle Roy courteously flounced out Cassie Lou's blouse. Jugs jiggled in the titsling.


    Mouths met.


    Faces all wet.

    Uncle Roy's hands grappled with the straps on Cassie Lou's bra.

    Tight tits squeaked in his grip. He twisted nippletips slowly.


    Rolled his thumbs over boobflesh. Pressing nip between thumb and finger.

    Uncle Roy stepped between Cassie Lou's thighs and her skirt began an uninterrupted rise past her pelvis to high on her hips.


    Uncle Roy frictioned her clitoris through her moistening underpants.

    Smutching sounds abounded with each frig. Her mulch quickened.

    Guntjuice thickened.

    Aperture slickened with briny slime, Uncle Roy's thumbs slammed right in.


    Cassie Lou whinnied.

    Transparent parities whisked away from her cunny by Uncle Roy's bristly face.

    Chewing her crotch.

    Noshing her forest.

    Drinking cuntjuices.


    Uncle Roy's pants jostled to the floor as he gored into Cassie Lou with his bullhorn. Her snatch engulfed his whanger.

    Pussycunt ate him up alive…

    Gobbling twatlips spoke in no uncertain terms that there would be no survivors. Eloquent diction of the fucksuckrut.

    Labia babbled baboonlike.

    Prickspear seared her insides.

    Like a rawhide rattlesnake Uncle Roy's polecat prowler shot out a long rainbow arc of sparkling jizzorn as Uncle Roy whipped it out of Cassie Lou's batter and let it scatter.

    "What's the matter with you?" Cassie Lou chewed. "I heard you were a better screw than that!"

    "I just wanted to get off some of the pent-up jizzom real fast so I could lax into it. Here. I'll fuck your tits."

    Uncle Roy pumped his prong and jacked a couple thick curds of cockcome.

    Remnants of his recent emission.

    Creaming onto the tops of her titmounds.

    Fucking her mouth as he did so, Uncle Roy sat squat down on Cassie Lou's boobcage and rubbed his fresh jizz into her breasts with his fanny.

    "Now, your tits are dandy."

    Uncle Roy fucked each nipple with the tip of his stinger. Ran it between.


    Uncle Roy corked down, up, and under. Thundering ballocks against her perineum.


    Adjusting his aim.


    Spearing game.

    Lancing the parole board dame in the anus. Bull's-eye in the asshole.

    As if fully oiled in preparation, Uncle Roy's dingalingdong flew on.

    Buried up her butt to his nuts on the very first thrust of bumrut.


    Grinding their guts together, their faces met in suckering embrace.

    Bellowing mouthlips vacuuming the interiors of their maws as assmeat ate up pronghorn.

    Corkscrew action increased the traction.

    Uncle Roy hacked out another snort of jizzom. Series of short bursts.

    "Fucker-fuck more!"

    "I told you before-got to go fast at first so I can ease into it later."

    Limber jimstick twitched from Cassie Lou's rectum with a squeak like a cork being yanked from the neck of a wine bottle.

    A few cords of jizz striped Uncle Roy's still-hard and deep pink prod making it look like an old-fashioned barber pole.

    Cassie Lou groaned forward.

    Took twanger with tongue.

    Suckered from it shards of jizzom, anal mucus, vague remembrances of her cuntal sluices.

    She goosed his gonads.

    Yanked cock hard.

    Charred the pricktip with incendiary flips of her labia.

    Impaling herself on his white-hot poker as the rolled afuck under the card table.

    As soon as he was able to contort into a good position, Uncle Roy repeatedly jerked and herked and plugged and unplugged his pecker.

    Alternating fuck between Cassie Lou's pussy and her asshole pucker.

    "Say, Doc Roy," the door cracked to a light rap with a cudgel "We was wondering if you wanted us to set a table in here for your meal-"

    "No big deal," Uncle Roy's voice pealed confidently as Cassie Lou stifled a peep. "Say. My negotiating party here isn't a bit hungry. So why don't you just leave me a snack portion in my cell along with some tortillas and beans with a bit of picante sauce on the side."

    "All right," the guardsman said. "Anything else for now?"

    "How about asking the warden to leave a message with my lawyer to call me."

    "Gotta say please for that one," the hillyboy chuckled as he smirked.

    "Gawddamn," Cassie Lou croaked. "Almost blown, I think I'm about to flip out."

    Uncle Roy turned as Cassie Lou unhitched her hiney from his hard-on.

    Riffling through her briefcase.


    She pulled out a switch-a small-sized sap, overlain with thin kidskin leather in the manner of a blackjack. "You like that?"

    "Who doesn't?" Cassie Lou clapped the switchlike club against her clitbud.

    Tamped it along her brush work.

    Quirked it into her cunny.

    Positioned her pelvis so his eyes could delve into her anus.

    Spanked herself on the fannycheeks with the sap as she pinched her clit.

    Twisted her tits.

    Pitched her eyes up inside her head and saw climax in several colors.

    Cassie Lou flipped her limbs spasmically. Grinning in maniacal rictus, she torquecl her trunk about and shot her ass around.

    "Get down!"

    Cassie Lou warped her form across Uncle Roy's lap. Prime peckermeat bending against her cabbage patch. Pet rocks dangling low.


    Uncle Roy whacked Cassie Lou's buttocks. The cheeks fluttered with each stroke.

    Cassie Lou stoked herself with rolls of the blackjack between her tits and through her legs and at her clitnib.

    Cassie Lou's assmeat reddened as ripe apple cheeks, Uncle Roy shucked her from her perch. Lurched alongside her.


    Was inside her.

    Uncle Roy crammed his jimjam wiredly down Cassie Lou's throat.

    Rutted her cunt ravenously.

    Fucked her fanny frenetically.

    All the while babying her skin with feathery whips of the blackjack.

    Thuds on titties.

    "Colons so pretty."

    Bumps to the clitbud.

    "Hardly a thud."

    Bouncing off buns.

    "Oooooh. fun!"

    Lobbing labia.

    "Okay? — I'm burnt out on this stuff for now anyway. What do you say we-"

    "Now, Uncle Roy. It's your turn," Cassie Lou said seizing the sap.

    She cracked it quickly across his face.


    Battered his ballocks.


    Patted his cock.


    Cassie Lou brought Uncle Roy off by sticking the blackjack inside his asscrack and sliding it underneath to the back of his nutsack.

    "I could use another drink," Uncle Roy said, sinking into a heap.

    "A nip would do me well too," Cassie Lou chirruped as she rolled her nudity toward the table. She stood straight up.

    Arched her back.

    Tossed her tits out.

    Pumped rump up.

    Allowed her wettened hair to fall backward from her face as her head lowered slowly backward. Hand clutching liquor flask.


    Cassie Lou gasped.

    Gripped off-guard in orgasmic attack. She hacked up phlegm.

    Snorted snot.

    All her spots were hot.

    She spread her legs and flopped her jaws apart halfway down to her knockers.

    Cassie Lou hoarded the remainder of her stash of liquor down her throat. Alcohol gurgled up from her gullet.

    Syruped mixed with a mulch of fermenting saliva and come over her mouthlips.

    Sliced across her chin.

    Dripped straight into her hair over the nape of her neck.

    Glugged into her armpits.

    Between and over her tits.

    Filling her navel.

    Zinging clitoris and trickling through labia. Binging her fundamental aperture.

    Trailing round her gams to a puddle between her heels upon the floor.

    The mixture of alcohol, fucksweat, rectal juice, cuntoils, cock jizz squished up in crests between her pert toes.

    "Save some for me, Cassie Lou."

    "I did. Drink it."

    Uncle Roy snorted hoarsely. Began to lap the alcohol-infused bodily juices from ail the places aforementioned.

    "Now about the pardon and parole board-" meeting I'll see what I can do."

    Chapter 6

    Sex on premises was hardly the way to run an art gallery, Landry Phillips reflected; But there were exceptions.

    His asshole twitched as the lithe lips of Sallie Anne slid over his dick.

    The other one-she who looked quite like Sallie Anne from some angles-which was to say a lot like Landry's wife in earlier days-Sadie Mae was the other one's name.

    And she gnawed away at his balls.

    Landry's grin was fixed into a rictus-a smirking death's head resembling cockhead sculptures in his collection.

    Glistening lips and slash of mouth drawn back far and wide concealing his cheeks and revealing his razor teeth and garish gullet.

    Red tongue flared from its lair inside his head and eyes gleamed like pearl mother insets into his skul-like visage.

    The two young ladies now jabbering upon Landry's gonads had worked fast.

    Jizzom lashed from his peckertip.

    Cream whipped across their faces.

    Scum raced down their sweat-drenched tresses as they flailed his nuggets with their hair. His teeth were bared and clenched.

    Eyes wrenched upward. Staring orgasmically into the back of his head.

    Landry knew that after these two were through with him he might as well be left for dead. So he set about brewing up another rush of come.

    These sisters had dropped by Landry's gallery without an appointment-a not-uncommon practice among Landry's ostentatiously acquisitive and capricious clientele.

    Said they had been referred second-handly by a man they knew of through another friend or two whose property, like their own, had been blessed with oil-drenched soil.

    "Well, little ladies," Landry had said. "I don't know how you feel about this time of day. But I'd say you arrived just in time for tea."

    Sallie Anne looked away.

    Sadie Mae looked Sallie Anne's way.

    "Of course, by tea-I mean it local style."

    "I might have some coffee," Sadie Mae said with eyes slowly swaying from side to side.

    "We could brew some. I personally might have some thick coffee and a bite or two of beer or tequila-you ever tried mezcal?"

    Sallie Anne drawled lamely:

    "We don't want to get too far out there. We wanted to maybe do some business. To take a look at some of your-dildos-"

    Landry Phillips thinned his lips. Drew back the ends of his mouth whiplike across his face in a stylish rictus of diffident lust.

    "Ladies, I appreciate that very much."

    Landry had naturally known-he didn't even have to take his cues from the babes' boob-chewing tube tops, tight miniskirts, and more-than-flirtatious spike heeled fuck-fuck-fuck-me pumps-they had come to examine the Landry Phillips Gallery's renowned and extensive collections in ethnographic art-the kind they used to call primitive before everyone-in writing and on tee-vee at least-started having to say everyone's culture was equal.

    The gallery held carvings from the sex cults of ancient Abyssinia and Nubia; erotic engravings from China and Japan; earrings, labrets, nippleclips, ciit-stirrups from Indonesia; buttplugs from Byzantium as a sideline; as well as graphic artistic expressions of the passions of India (the subcontinent) and Indians (the other kind).

    "But first things first," Landry said with animation to his diction. "In addition to our teatime tipple I might suggest a thimbleful of yage extract such as the native peoples of the Amazon rainforest use to commune with the eagle and the jaguar and the secrets of life-"

    "That's the stuff," Sallie Anne coughed on a cigarette drag, "they use to fuck on? They get high and they think they are going to die-"

    Landry returned an easy sly smile:

    "While some of the stories are exaggerated, they do have some basis in fact. You might be thinking, too, of yohirnbine brew-it's a plant native to central Africa and indeed it is prescribed by physicians in tablet form to counteract physiologic symptoms of frigidity and impotence-"

    "I might use some of that," Sadie Mae said cattily. "I'll share some with you."

    "On the other hand," Landry began, taking the time to tug at the ladies' titties and panties with his glance, "there is intriguing historical testimony regarding the use of the jimson-or locoweed-in the treatment of certain essential maladies of the spirit and flesh-"

    The young women's eyes widened noticeably as Landry continued:

    "— The early conquistadors compared its effects as learned from the aboriginals with that of their homegrown Spanish fly."

    Sallie Anne cooed:

    "My, my."

    Landry added wryly:

    "How about if I set up a sampler of all three of these-uh-teas-for us to nip at-?"

    Landry commenced to boil a copper pot of water over a gas driven stove intended to look like an ancient hearth.

    Sadie Mae estimated the size of his growing hard-on and almost barfed at the thought of having it stuck into her.

    Wherever he shot that cock up-it would surely come out the other end.

    She would have to remember to keep her body bent a little bit in order to avoid being skewered, Her cunt simmered.

    Landry yanked down several unmarked dark glass bottles from the refrigerated chamber off to the side of his wet bar and drew out two three long glasses full of citrus juice and sharp alcohol.

    As Landry escorted the ladies along with their drinks down a hallway lined with masks, they passed small cups of the herbal teas among themselves. Breathing quietly.

    Sensing the earthy vapors of their drinks sinking into the lining of their nostrils. Smarting through their blood.

    Sadie Mae advanced first into a dimly lit cool room rimmed by glassed-in cases within which were arranged the remains of great civilizations.

    Cultic cock-and-balls of rigid obsidian. Boobs sculpted from smooth alabaster.

    Keisters of plaster lacquered over and pussies cut from gemstone-and more" That's a toothpick?" Sadie Mae pointed toward a small pointed stick.

    "Lancet," Landry said with looming rictus thickly cast over his mein. "Used to prick the pricks of Maya kings and labia of their ladyfriends who reigned as queens. They were all kin, by the way. In those days-"

    "I get the picture," Sallie Anne said, twitching her hips.

    Sadie Mae felt herself flush.

    She started to think of herself as exposed. Floating naked over those other two in the room. As if she were stoned.

    She took a gape at the empty cup in her hand. Licked out the drops from the rim and side and then she groaned.






    Landry looked at Sallie Anne and together they stepped toward Sadie Mae.

    "Hey! I'm dizzy."

    Sadie Mae made sure her tube top and miniskirt herky-jerked around and up and down as she threw herself onto the floor in a heap.

    "Her clothes are in disarray," Landry brayed. "It's dangerous. She may suffocate!"

    Sadie Mae felt Landry and Sallie Anne slide her away to the side of the room across the cool flagstone flooring.

    Her discomfort evident, Sadie Mae allowed them to rearrange her vestments.

    Then whined like a kitten when Landry's thumb chanced upon her niblets.

    "We should strip her," Landry said with no apparent inflection.

    "If you say so," Sallie Anne blew; "Guess you know what to do."

    Together they rolled Sadie Mae's top over her shoulders and down her arms.

    "Her flesh is still warm," Landry observed with lack of emotion.

    Sadie Mae's skirt swished down her legs, joined by her underpants.

    "She likes the lacy stuff from France," Landry said with a glance.

    He picked up her gains by the toes.

    "Pull her over this way," he said, not relaying the slightest evidence of motive.

    Behind them, Sallie Anne espied a small votive altar in a recess off to one side of the gallery. Long limber tubes tipped with metal nibs dripped from the sides of a wide-mouth ceramic beaker modeled in the form of a smooth nude equipped with vestiges of all sexes. From.its size Sallie Anne estimated the container could hold several gallons.

    Green froth topped off the jar. Legs of syrupy amber liquid drifted down the sides.


    Landry lifted Sadie Mae from the floor with her legs encircling his head.

    "Is she dead?" Sallie Anne said.

    "Not by a long shot. She just might have gotten an overreaction to that juice. She'll come to. But when she does-"

    "Omigaaaaawd!" Sadie Mae chewed lewdly through rudely screwed lips, "I waaaaant it! Fuuuuu-uck me! Crudely!"

    Landry pulled his rictus in tight. Eyes bright, he hoisted a tube toward Sadie Mae.

    "Take one, Sallie Anne," Landry commanded. "Run it up her ass."



    Sadie Mae flailed away with her legs and arms Snapped at the air like a rabid bitch.

    Hips twitched.

    Clit sang.

    Snatch cringed… -

    Anus urped.


    Mae warped her spine felinely as Sallie Anne twisted a rounded tubular tip into the rictus of her anus.

    "Nobody said this was going to be, painless," Landry said aimlessly.

    He guided Sallie Anne's wrist as she slid the nib in and out of her sister's ass. Whipped the nib out. fast.


    Avoided a blast from. Sadie Mac's chasm.

    Landry launched the end of another tube running from the tub of fermented jungle enema into the-yammering sphincter.

    "That went into her real nice," Sallie Anne said wisely. "Let's drink to that."

    Landry put his arm about Sallie Anne and looked back over.his shoulder at Sadie Mae, whose hardbody belly was slowly inflating with liquid draining from the enema jug.

    Smugly, the two of them strolled through the door and down the hall.

    Sallie Anne held Landry by the balls. She pulled his penis upward and saw the rictus of the underside of his cockhead spread with growing infusion of erectile blood.

    Dense gore pulsed into Landry's prick.Ballocks blew up from prunelike wrinkled wads to inflated pods the size of avocados.

    Sallie Anne twirled Landry around her little finger. Frigging him up his rectum.

    Twanging his banger like a plectrum. Strumming his underbelly.

    His jelly jumped.

    Ballocks began to pump scum.

    Feeling jizzom about to blow, Sallie Anne stowed Landry's pronghorn between the frothing rictus formed of the rim of her hard-raunched double-layered labile cuntgrin.


    Landry was.

    And then out just as fast.

    When his penis was all juiced up, he ran it ticklishly out and up the slit of her snatch. Stabbing her clitoris.


    Screwed into her bellybutton while thumbing her mutton and suckering nip.

    He played with her tits hovering his hiney over her face.

    Fucked her tits diagonally while Sallie Anne twirled her tongue inside his asscrack. Shellacked the backside of his ballsack.


    Jacked a few whacks with her fingernails to his pecker. Impaled his tail with her digits and twisted them around.

    Landry staggered across the floor, dragging Sallie Anne like a damp limp shawl hanging off the back of his haunch.

    Landry's eyes brightened and died like coals in the night when he saw Sallie Anne's weak warped smile piled with curdled jizzom.

    He admired the way his come hung from the side of Sallie Anne's jaws like the wattles of a turkey gobbler. Sallie Anne opened her mouth to speak and a long lariat of jizzom looped from her yip like mozzarelia from a hot slice of pizza.

    The strand of jizz drooped nearly to her boobs before snapping off onto her comecaked pussy. She drawled loosely:

    "Fuck me, Landry. Fast. Fuck me in the teeth. Fuck right up my ass. Then run your rattler sidewinding into my snakepit."

    "As you like it," Landry pandered in candied syllables through his by-now lockjawed approximation of a death-grin rictus. "As a professional, I do anything for a client."

    Landry fucked Sallie Anne quickly.

    Stuck his dick down her throat as he poured out another round of drinks.

    Slinked his prick into her anal wrinkle before stinging into her hive.

    "You didn't come, Landry love."

    "Saving it up for later. I want to hold off so I can shoot off a few times in rapid succession-back there in the-uh-confessional."

    Buck naked, the both of them hopped on all fours down the hall.

    Croaking like frogs.

    Landing on each other's back for a brief bout of the fucksuckrut.


    Sadie Mae was juddering all over the gallery floor. Rolling in her own exudations and the overflow from the enema vessel like a sausage popped sizzling from its casings.

    "Outrageous," Landry ca-cawed. "Too bad my son Randy left for classes already. He could have helped to steady her. He's an artist-good at working with nude women."

    "Fuck 'em," Sallie Anne raved, passing her fingers over her raised rouged nipples, between her twatlips painted and shaven for the occasion of the seduction of Landry Phillips.

    Without an instant of thought or hesitation, Sallie Anne capered into the air and did a full turn.

    Landed toe firstSquiiiiirt!


    On Sadie Mae's liquid-bloated girth.

    Shit scattered in colored foam across the floor. Sallie Anne jumped once more.


    Landed flat on her fanny crushing Sadie Mae beneath her.


    Sadie Mae squeaked stew from her innards. Strewn about the scuttling twosome.

    "Eureka!" Landry roared.

    "Fucking dyke bitch whore," Sadie Mae roared as she gored Sallie Anne with her fingers. "I'll bite you to tatters."

    Sadie Mae ripped into Sallie Anne's tits. Sallie Anne clutched Sadie Mae's clit.

    "I'll fistfuck you."

    "You'll have to force me."

    "I'll force you to force me."

    Landry pressed a heel gleefully into Sadie Mae's tummy and she made a noise like a goose squawk. Then he snapped on an Aztec cockring.

    He next seized a hose that ran with carbonated spring water.

    Snapped it out like a bullwhip and shot the foaming spray over the cat-scratching sisters. Washing them off.

    Landry then whipped out a Spanish colonial cat of ninetails trimmed with metal briars favored by certain orders-of nuns for intense frottage in penance of their perpetually replicated sins including ritualized lesbianism.

    Scored the cavorting chicks on their fannies, boobs, and faces with razes from the whip. He purposely slipped.

    They were on him instantly.

    Sadie Mae nibbling his nutsack.

    Sallie Anne whacking his twanger with her tongue.

    They both twiddled their thumbs up his ass. He came fast.


    Spat semen spiraled upward in a parabolic arc. Paused at the apex.

    Then the jizz dropped like a jaguar upon prey to the concavity of Landry's navel.

    Sallie Anne sucked it up.

    While Sadie Mae jacked more of Landry's froth directly from his pecker into her maw. Pawing his sack of ballocks.

    Jawing down ejaculate.

    Little Ramona wrenched her pert asshole from the pucker of Randy's mouthlips.

    "Like, Ramona? When can we do this again?"

    "I don't reckon too soon anyhow-"


    "You know I'm supposed to be true to your pawpaw Landry-leastwise Pm his official mistress these days. Kiss me."



    Randy stuck his face into Ramona's cuntflesh. She flashed a small derringer from the low bodice of her dress of Spanish lace drawn up about her waist. Cocked the hammer.


    Shot hammered the roof of the bungalow out back of Uncle Roy's Roadhouse.


    Lead pellets dappled the low beams.

    Randy screamed:

    "Ream me!"

    Coming in big gobs of scum. Cords of jizzom flowing as he rutted up Ramona's gams.

    Ramona fucked him with her mouth and hands.

    Ramming fingers and lingual organ into his mouth and eyesockets.

    Cramming his nostrils, ears. Tugging him under his arms.

    Twisting his nipples.

    Frigging his navel.

    Goosing gonads and massaging anus.

    In Randy's condition, Ramona found it easy as pie to tie him with leather lashes. She pressed the timer on her watch.

    "I'll be back soon with some more brew. Got to check the kitchen crew-"

    Ramona flew out the door and locked it behind her. Mercedes was reading a magazine, applying lipstick, smoking a cigarette, and chewing gum at the same time behind the wheel of an automobile stripped of make and model decor and painted a matte metallic off-gray that iridesced greenish or brownish or bluish from different angles of sight.

    "Uptight?" Ramona snickered. "It will be over before we know it!"

    Mercedes edged the car into gear.

    Nearly soundlessly it slid along the curves of the surrounding ravines and glided along the edge of a ridge overlooking the valley where the division between the undulating wooded landscape of the eastern part of the state gave way to the flat desert of the south and west.

    Ramona held out a Colt.45 revolver.

    "Loaded with buckshot, yes?" Mercedes said to show she remembered from practice.

    "Well, Mercedes, we're taking it a little bit differently today. The reason Uncle Roy had the guns modified like that was so they could pack a wallop at short range but probably not kill someone unless you were unlucky."

    Mercedes nodded to impress upon Ramona she would do anything, despite having her origins in rectal reactionary families of the eastern establishment.

    "Birdshot," Ramona said blankly.

    "That way," Mercedes said with a display of eloquent diction, "well only wing them," then tittered: "I can't wait!"

    Mercedes tugged at the brakes in the sky-blue gravel bed outside the separate shack that housed the ceramic casting and firing furnace. They were out of sight of the larger structure where the gallery storage and display rooms were located.

    Mercedes pulled the mask of chamois leather over her head and Ramona teasingly wafted a set of keys in front of her face.

    "I should make you go down for these keys, sis. Make you suck me off first."

    Mercedes nearly burst out laughing beneath her mask. She snatched the keys fast and shot a paw playfully at the frilly flocculence of Little Ramona's froufrou seen askance through the draped opening of Ramona's wrapped lace skirt.

    "Fuck you," Ramona blurted.

    "Not if I fuck you first," Mercedes snotted spoiled-rottenly.

    Ramona watched Mercedes's fanny rounded beneath the material of her faded pantaloons as Mercedes walked casually toward the entrance to the gallery storeroom. Ramona kept the automobile's engine running-just barely idling.

    Ears cocked.

    Pistol cocked.

    Ready to take flight.

    Getaway gal.

    Even though Uncle Roy had not yet been sprung from the jug, the police were sure that the recent wave of robberies by what had been variously described as pug-nosed thugs, ambisexual ruffians, ragamuffin vagrant bitches-these felonies had been masterminded from behind bars by none other than Uncle Roy himself.

    The modus operandi included stealth, quickness, trickery, diversion, assault-a complex planning was necessary, and it required delicacy as well as brutality to bring it off.

    "Dirty animals," Mercedes railed in deep throaty voice as she walked into the dark gallery and witnessed Sadie Mae impaled.

    Stuck from the rear by Landry's spear and fucked from the front with Sallie Anne's engorged clitoris-painted red with cinnabar and forest of pussy sheared into a thin tapered arrowpoint.

    Mercedes held the barrel of the gun steady. Directed the two women to take the carved dildos from their apertures and orifices and hand them over to her. Again at Mercedes's discretion, Landry and Sallie Anne hogtied Sadie Mae.

    Mercedes prodded Sallie Anne into strapping a feathered leather loincloth over Landry's eyes and tying all of his limbs together behind his ass.

    Mercedes gave Landry's hard-on a whack with the back of her wrist.

    Jacked it with her fist as she directed Sallie Anne at gunpoint to empty the cabinets of selected objects she read from a list.

    Wiped out from successive ejaculations and finally overcome by his ingestion of booze and herb teas, Landry fell into oblivion. He was hardly aware-or would he have cared if he had been- that Sadie Mae and Sallie Anne scampered away at the same time the apparent intruder did.

    Landry did hear the telephone ring and the blare of the alarm as one buyer called him and another simply jerked open the electronically wired but chronically unlocked door.


    The robber-robbers! — must have done that on purpose, knowing that the alarm would function in that mode, would tote up on the board of the local constabulary, and would certainly lead to no less than embarrassment.

    Landry would be found tied up in the rude with a savage's underpants stretched over his face. Hastily express an hallucinatory scenario to his arriving clients; And Landry would perforce have to signal off the fuzz officially from the get-go unless he wanted the story to spread like a yeast infection through a nunnery.

    "Landry?" he recognized the female voice. "You here, my dear?"

    Clack of high heels.

    "I see," the woman's voice drifted smokily. "You are ready for me-indeed."

    Landry choked out:

    "How do you do this afternoon, Cassie Lou?"

    Chapter 7

    Asshole quirked lazily on Yancey's prong, Mercedes came quietly. He drew the tip of his prick from her rectum.

    Ejected jizzom in a fizzing line up the crack of her fanny. "Aaaaah."

    Squirted another trail under her tail into her cuntal cranny.

    While still spewing spermiets, Yancey attempted to inject his twanger into Mercedes's buttermilk silky slimeslit.

    It wouldn't fit.


    Ramona's tongue was already in there.

    "The fuck!"

    Thundering, yelps, and chuckles from the trunk of the automobile.

    Mercedes wrenched the gears.

    Tried to get Yancey to spear her from the rear as she drove the vehicle slowly up the rise to the ridge while sitting on his lap.

    "I'll have none of that," Yancey cracked. "I have to get back to my office. That's no alibi. This whole gig could blow sky high."

    With tears of frustration, Mercedes tore at her own flesh.

    Twisting her tits like knobs.

    Tweaking her clit in a fit.

    Jamming fingernails into her slit.

    Finally spitting herself to the wrist on her fist like a frying fish.

    And tamping her anus onto the stickshift.

    Yancey's gaze drifted lazily over Ramona's shoulders as she now slid up and down on his dingalingdong with her tiny tits sticking like darts into his face.

    The front of Uncle Roy's Roadhouse would be the part of the complex the police would watch-if they watched anything at all.

    The whorehouse bungalow shacks out back were strictly off limits unless the fuzz wanted to partake of some action in the brocaded brothel atmosphere Uncle Roy had taken great pains to model after old photographs of Western and Mexican bordellos of the nineteenth century.

    From where they were parked, Yancey had a lookout perch onto the highway.

    And the shifty paint job of the automobile would serve to camouflage it amidst the stand of low long-bristled pines aligning the ridge.


    Ramona came off in a gush of ladyjuice as Yancey mauled her boobcage.

    Bounced her on his pecker.

    Felt the suction of her clasped cuntlips, thighs, and asscheeks smooch at his balls. He shifted his haunch.

    Ramona crouched facing Yancey.

    Licking his eyebrows and forehead as he threaded his stinger inside her.

    She fed upon his face.

    Encasing his nose within her lips. Sipping from his mouthlips.

    Bending backward to extend the trail of entwined spittle in a sagging arch from each of their lower mouthlips to the other's.

    They scraped their claws over each other's facecheeks. Gnawed jawbone.

    Nibbled chin.

    As Ramona sucked Yancey's cock within her brining and undulant interior.

    Comfortably, Yancey continued spearing her. Confident of their success despite the uncertainty ahead-the uncertainty present now.

    Yancey ploughed through her vineyards. Hardness engulfed by softness.

    Deftness countered by bold strokes.

    White-hot poker soaked with free-running cunt-oils. Pussy boiled alive by jizzomic fission deep within the ballocks.

    The gurgling of a geyser about to blow.

    Slow burn 'of a molten lava flow signaling a volcano ready for eruption.


    Percussion of pelvis.

    "Ah nini!"

    Concussion of emotion.

    "Yabba baba. baba baba, Aum baba baba baba. Eauchmn baba baba baba-"


    Raunchjuice sluiced up into Ramona's froufrou as Yancey blew another wad.





    Ramona was pitched into the black sadness of wondering if she would ever come that coarsely again. Waves of thickened cuntgoo plopped out onto Yancey's, impeccable lap.

    Limbs flapped.

    Nostrils collapsed.

    Little Ramona gasped in a welter of alternately freezing and blistering rutsweat. Clear liquid beads aligned her forehead.

    Puddles grew along her shoulderblades.

    Fuck perspiration slimed from her armpits. Seeped between her two tits.

    Mercedes watched silently, snidely, as if she had been the one riding that stallion and now it was Ramona who was getting the good stuff.

    "Pigbitch sow," Mercedes barfed.

    "Cuntie muff-muncher. You already got a shot of him. So fucking greedy you are-"

    Yancey rolled sideways.

    Pulled on his pants and danced out into the open to dry off in the breeze.

    He raised his hand palm out in response to the signal from within the small shady glade below the rows of bungalows.

    Lafayette and the boys in the band lately called the Rudedudes had finished loading the collected artifacts into the camper cabin mounted on the bed of a pick-up truck equipped with four-wheel drive and special heavy-duty undercarriage.

    Mercedes commanded the sleek unmarked sedan and Ramona drove off in the truck camper.

    Plans were ideally to have Sadie Mae and Sallie Anne remain in the sedan's trunk until just this side of the border.

    That is-the two girls would remain hidden until the automobile had passed undetected through Stateside customs.

    If any description of the fugitives had been passed along fuzz buzzlines privately-for a number of reasons there had been no publicity pertaining to that morning's gallery heist announced over the airwaves-it would surely finger the lookalike sucksister femme lesbo dykes Sadie Mae and Sallie Anne.

    Mercedes had of course been masked.

    And Little Ramona had stood guard out of sight riding shotgun in the getaway machine.

    During the upcoming phase of escape and transfer of materiel, it would be a judgment call-perhaps decisive or perhaps not crucial at all-that Mercedes would have to make as to how long Sadie Mae and Sallie Anne should remain hidden.

    If Sadie Mae and Sallie Anne were to be spotted emerging from their hiding place in the trunk while still in United States jurisdiction-that would be a — worse indictment than being busted as paperless in Mexico, where a few pesos or especially dollars invariably hit the hotspots.

    Sometime in the meantime-perhaps today, maybe not-Yancey might expect to receive a phonecali from the chief of detectives at the sheriff's office explaining that there had been a burglary involving some old Indian paraphernalia and would Yancey in his capacity as honorary deputy care to consult with the constabulary in this regard.

    For matters of this sort-where there had been no real violence done-aside from alerting the obvious enforcement agencies, the police in these regions routinely left the full investigation to the insurance examiners and their hired detectives.

    The insurance companies were the only parties with vested interests in the outcome besides the principals anyway-who were as a matter of course considered prime suspects for insurance fraud.

    Yancey would do the initial paperwork and handle the interface should any be necessary.

    He hadn't passed the word of any of this operation back to Uncle LeRoy LaRue, ostensibly because Yancey did not want to jeopardize-even theoretically-the positive outcome of the waiver of Roy's prison sentence that was due to come down from the governor's office around noon.

    About now, Yancey thought as he got out of his car and with a load of books and other papers under his arm picked his way from the parking lot through the university campus, Lafayette and the Rudedudes would be following the wild girls flared out along the highway on motorcycles at some distance behind them, ready to radio Ramona and Mercedes should any suspect fuzz be sighted.

    Yancey left his papers in his office-no messages yet.

    Traipsed to the auditorium where his lecture would begin shortly.

    The part about Lafayette and the Rudedudes was especially important.

    In particular-and Yancey liked this twist-if anything went awry, Yancey could maintain that he as the sole semiofficial local representative of the law in this arena of justice had taken it upon himself to call out a posse that was now in pursuit of the bitchstresses and their pilfered loot.

    That act could conceivably work right up to the border crossing.

    After Yancey had delivered to an amused group of students an anecdotally laced, breezily paced talk on the state of the art in psychosexual anthropology, he returned to his office and drew a cup of coffee from the decanter.

    He heard her saunter in.

    Knew her well enough by now to recognize her walk by sound.

    Smelled her bodyheat before he turned around.

    Yancey had never told her so, but she might have been his daughter in this life or another if one believed in that stuff:

    He felt that close to her.

    "Care for some brew?"

    "After we screw."

    "Any news on the great escape?"

    "There was none."

    "I'm surprised at you. Thought you inner circle types were so savvy and well connected that even with the cover-up-"

    "I mean they captured them already. Way before the border even."

    "Cassie Lou-you've got to be bullshitting."

    "I always do. But that doesn't mean you didn't blow it. Just like someone else we know."

    "Name of Uncle Roy-"

    "Tell me another story, grandmaw," Sadie Mae sniggered as she pawed Sallie Anne's trimmed cabbage patch.

    "I could tell you the one about how daddy got down on his hands and knees and turned his fanny around so that everyone could see from the rear as he gored into all kinquim."

    "Not that one again."

    "Load my labia into your trap and maybe it'll help me think-"

    "I want you to come again, Sallie Anne. Right in my face. I want to taste it."

    "Fucking sucksisters," Mercedes blistered through twisted mouthlips. "It was you two squealing as you were ftatfucking and cuking and sucking each other off in the trunk that got the tollbooth bulldyke worked up in the first place."

    Mercedes could almost taste the hatred basting her bite:

    "Fucking cowsucking cunts. You cornfed, inbred, under-read pinhead lizzie doxies-"

    Heavy snick of metal bars sliding.

    "Here's another one," the jailhouse guard cackled lewdly through her well-chewed maw. "We already fucked on her for you all-she's ready to add to your euntslime stew."

    The guard pushed Little Ramona rudely into the cell. Gave her hell on the back of the head with first a whack from her billyclub and then a yank of her hair.

    "There she is. Now, girls-do as Auntie Trixie says and strip this vixen."

    Ramona blew a stubbly bubble with her piece of dirty gum.

    Popped it with pointed tongue.

    Strung out an uninterrupted line of words unsepa-rated but accentuated with nagging twists of rhythmically clipped diction:

    "Algun juzgado chingado aqui, bebe. En mi casa me dice que tu amiga puta gana su dinero especial haciendole la puneta a perras."

    "Fucking chitter like a spider monkey, bitch. You must want to be hit more-bad!"

    "I tell you what I said only because I want Sadie Mae and Sallie Anne and Mercedes to. know I said it: Some fucking jail here, baby. Back home they tell me your whore girlfriend makes her spending money jacking off bitch mutts."

    "Bimbo slut," Trixie breathed. "I do believe you just asked for it-"

    "Excuse my interruption," Mercedes puled abruptly. "But listen up, you Sapphic pulp. As a student in fashion design, I have to asked you who did your uniforms-quite enticingly butch-"

    Trixie blushed.

    "— If," Mercedes continued, "you like pickled gorilla clits. And, by the way, who does the decorating? You or your cuntsucking colleagues?"


    Mercedes belched out loud.

    Sallie Anne farted.

    Sadie Mae puked out:

    "You know, this is a free country and even we have a few liberties-"

    "That's right," the guard chortled. "You have a right to go right down on that dogmeat bitch right in front of me or you'll get smacked right on your ripe melonheads. Right?"

    "That's extortion," Sadie Mae blew. "Illegal too. You're the criminal."

    The guard pointed her cudgel at Sallie Anne and Mercedes: "You two. Beat that sack of quimoil to a fucking pulp. Then have the little spic snit suck her hide dry from the inside."

    Click of high-heeled footwear.

    Guard's molten stare.

    Memories returning like upchucks from.a cucumber and watercress sandwich consumed hastily at a tiresome garden party long ago in the eternal childhood of us all.

    Jingle of rings strung from nipples. Clink of bells dangling from links strung through inner and outer labia.

    Asshole limber and lined with rubber.

    Mouth so pouting that you would want to club her. Smother her.

    Love her.

    Never could forget that face.

    Boobs done up in leather and lace.

    Stiletto heels, spurs of steel, and legs so long they ran. from hell to paradise.

    "Cassie Lou? Is that you?"

    "I do look a little different now," Cassandra Louise Lafayette LaRue Jones Massey said, smoothing the skirt to her business suit. "You like it rough, Trixie, as I recall"

    Trixie snapped her club against her palm. Drew her tongue along her teeth.

    "Deed I do."

    "Funny how things turn out. I own you now," Cassie Lou flashed an ID, "Not only an attorney but member of the prison pardon and parole board. In certain, jurisdictions I may serve as arresting officer, prosecutor, judge, and jury."

    "Back in the military, Cassie Lou-why, you was just a pussy-"

    "Now I'm a tigress. You're under arrest, I saw enough evidence long ago to convict you as a neo-Nazi butchbitch sadist and sentence you to be properly wrenched into a pretzel and girlfucked until poached brainless in overheated bodyjuices induced by escalating and sequential climaxes of clitoral, vaginal, oral, and anal orgasm."


    "Unhand the prisoners directly. Remand them to my custody and your sentence shall herewith be hereby commuted forthwith.

    "I'll let them go if you say so, Cassie Lou. But can't you have them punish me first?"

    "Girls-I want you to summarily subdue and screw this chewed cud till she brings tears to your leers. It's okay. She's queer."

    Chapter 8

    Snatchlips snicksnacked spasmically to the rhythm of the radio. Balls bounced upon bellies as another round of brew went down at Uncle Roy's Roadhouse.

    In truth, there was little anticipation of a showdown. More in the spirit of a clan rodeo.

    An armored van was loaded up with artifacts and armaments. In the event anything was hassled anywhere either side of the border Little Ramona's orders were to start shooting.

    Yancey lanced in and out of the room. Untypically nervous and pacing.

    Ramona was stationed by the barbecue pit inspecting the sustenance as it arrived. Mercedes was instructing Randy and Bubba in some techniques she had picked up during her short stay in jail.

    And Sallie Anne had lined up potential headquarters south of the border and was running her eyeballs down a map.

    Sadie Mae served up eggs and chili to Lafayette and the boys in the Rudedudes band.

    "Somebody give me a hand," Little Ramona yelped, rolling out a barrel of beer.

    Yancey gave his hard-on hawg the back of his hand and then set it to dancing inside the rim of Mercedes's trim mouthltps.

    He cracked a smile as the doors blew back. Man came in alone with his hat cocked forward over his forehead. From the shadows of his hatbrim, eyeslits glinted a scattering of leaden blips.

    He shot forth his hips.

    Allowed his long loose capelike coat to undrape about his stomach.

    Wad in the center of his crotch.

    Starched ridge running up his underbelly in a hornlike curve.

    Nib end of said appendage disturbing his belt buckle. He shot two fingers down.

    Juggled his nuts.

    Strutted to the counter and sat down on top of a round swivel stool.


    "Coffee today?"

    "If I stay."

    "So have it your way."

    "Steak and eggs. Hot sauce and wide white tortillas like Ramona makes."

    "Been up here before?"

    "Why you say that?"

    "You seem to know the score."

    "Not much."

    "You never told me about the coffee, darling."

    "Say, Sadie Mae. Make it hot and rich the way they make it in the kitchen."

    "How you know my name?"

    "You're famous."

    "No I'm not."

    "You got your name all over the papers there a few days back-"

    "But I was innocent."

    "Just nobody didn't press no charges is all. The fix was in again."

    Sadie Mae squinted.

    Leaned in under the man's hatbrim.

    Cuntjuices ran crisp and thin. Sadie Mae's mouth began watering.

    "Uncle Roy. Been such a long time since I last saw you."

    "Remember what you said to me?"

    "I wanted to ball you."

    "But what happened?"

    "You flew the coop. Turned into a jailbird. Isn't that the scoop?"

    "One of them."

    "Any of the others expect you?"

    "My nephew over there recognized me when I came in-the one fucking my second cousin-"


    "And the other ladies I do know. Don't know if they recognized me though."

    "Jesus Mofo!" Bubba Buster said as he burst through the doorway in company with Randy. "My Uncle LeRoy. How long-?"

    "Still going strong," Uncle Roy said aloud to the crowd.

    Sadie Mae reached down within herself and determined to find out who was boss. Was Uncle Roy still the hero he used to be?

    Or was Yancey now the one to beat?

    Lafayette had been coming on strong.

    And it wouldn't be long before Randy and Bubba would have to take the edge off their hard-ons. More than Sadie Mae could sensibly bargain for.

    But then again" Let's us get lost," Sadie Mae said to Uncle Roy as she stripped off her apron.

    She wiped her hands on a thin towel and came around to him.

    Uncle Roy placed his extended fingers astride Sadie Mae's slim waist.

    They kissed.

    Face to face.

    Tongues racing.

    Tasting all different places.

    Sadie Mae sucked out at the point of Uncle Roy's chin. He slid his grin over the center of her forehead and into her hair.


    Twisting her head about to peruse the ongoing frolics, Sadie Mae cocked her body out and up. Toward the side door.

    Uncle Roy sat there stunned.

    Sucking coffee from a dingy mug.

    Eying her jugs.

    Giving her hips the once-over.

    Thinking about rolling Sadie Mae in the hay or the clover.

    Uncle Roy let his hand drift downward toward his rover. Cranked once.

    Erection joustled.

    His complexion went pale as he felt the blood drain from his face.

    Momentarily dizzy as he started to rise from his seat, Uncle Roy realized that the blood in his body was all coalescing in one place.

    His cock was long and hard and felt ready to disgorge its porridge in an instant. He took one step forward.

    Hard-on raged.

    He tossed his gaze through the haze of his sexual arousal and-fraught.with denial-saw Sadie Mae stick a finger in her yip.

    Flip him the high-sign.


    Uncle Roy sniffed bitch.

    His dogmeat growled.

    Yowling inside of him grew up from his ballocks and stalked up his spine.

    Erection electrified him from rock-hard cock to the interior of his cranium.

    And here was Sadie Mae standing nonchalantly in the doorway.

    Peepers trained on him.


    With no glance back at all, Uncle Roy patrolled toward the door.

    Whispering mouthlips dripped:

    "I'm your whore."

    In the moments before dawn, Sadie Mae led Uncle Roy on down to the fanciest bungalow at the end of the street in their whorehouse town.

    Once inside, she let her hair down.

    Pushed a bar of soap around her face.

    Under her armpits.

    Sat down for a piss.


    "Well, Uncle Roy. I guess it's about time we got started on that plan of ours*"

    "Close, but no cigar," Uncle Roy jawed while lighting a cheroot.

    "I mean about taking off over the border."

    "Just the two of us?"

    "Along with some of your old junk collection. With the money it would bring, we could do some real living. I was thinking-"

    "Usually when people say that they mean they've either been thinking too little or too much. Which is it with you?"

    "This seems really weird. Like I know you so well and also like I've never seen you before, Uncle Roy."

    "It might take me a little while to settle down to this kind of existence. I'm not used to being outside. Want to go for a ride?"


    Sadie Mae swerved onto the mattress beside Uncle Roy. Her ploy was to let her boobs out brazenly and watch him go for them.

    Quickly Uncle Roy worked his hands like octopus suckers all over her knockers.

    He rubbed his thumbs sideways across her ninnies. Sadie Mae whinnied:


    Her nippletips crinkled.

    Fists wrinkled her breasts.

    Twirled them around like knobs.

    Uncle Roy fobbed each bosom between thumb and forefinger. Allowed his gaze to linger as he stroked tit with his fingers.

    Then shot hot boobflesh into his salivating mouth. Chewed about.


    Gripped the tip of the nipple with his teeth, tongue, and lips.

    Ripped backward.


    Yanked sideways.



    Stretched boobs like bananas flipped like fish through his fingertips.

    Snapped against Sadie Mac's boobcage. Enraged nipples gaze searingly.

    Sadie Mae's mouth warped endearingly.

    She cupped her palms together pleadingly. Snapped them into his pants.

    "Aaah. Ululu."

    She had his cock out.

    In her mouth.

    As he fucked her head.

    Red penis prodded the inside of her mouth at the front of her palate.

    Balls balanced on Sadie Mae's chin, Uncle Roy slid in.

    Yanked out.


    Slinked back in.


    And again.

    Sadie Mae creamed his nutsack with her phalanges until Uncle Roy screamed.


    With a blistering snap of her trap, Sadie Mae flapped her jaw onto Uncle Roy's knob. Hobbled his honker as she jacked.

    Bobbed her head.

    Fed upon pecker.

    Clicked her teeth together.

    Crunched crank.

    Clacked the engorged and spread cockhead against the upside of her palate.


    Sadie Mae handled the hammer just in back of the head. Encircled the corona.

    Brought thumb and forefinger tightly in a ring. Wiggled the prick.

    Shot a straightened finger down the side of the rawhide stinger.

    Traced the raised veins traversing the curvature of fullblood cock.

    "Chuck it down."

    Sadie Mae suckled the blood-infused erection. Delicately nibbling.

    Then imbibing the twanger slowly but surely over her tongue.

    She cricked it about her craw.

    Minced her jaw.

    Pawed balls.

    Clawed fanny.

    Uncle Roy randied deeper.

    The curving prickmeat bent the other way as Sadie Mae pulled the lean meat on through to the edge of her deep red gullet.

    She pulled pecker by the root.

    Felt the member shoot lower.

    Powering through her tonsils.

    Pecking down her neck.


    Sadie Mae munched dick with rhythmic movements of her mouth as Uncle Roy slid the stinger in and out. Sadie Mae croaked.

    Jazzed the muscles of her throat.


    Lips of her mouth wiped about the cockroot. Neck muscles undulated.

    Stretching out prickstem.

    Blood flowing out loud behind Uncle Roy's eardrum sent his nougat to humming.

    "Look, Uncle Roy. No hands."

    Sadie Mae jacked off his glands with the friction of her throat.

    Using only the muscles trained in jabbering and swallowing, Sadie Mae choked off the cock in swells of fermenting saliva.


    Uncle Roy's penis blazed from searing hotness to glacial frigidity.

    The prick's thick rigidity kept it captive in Sadie Mae's maw.

    "Aw nawnaw."

    Gloating, Sucking Sadie Mae let the frazzled dickmeat escape.

    Then just as the dingalingdong upon which she blew whipped through her teeth, she reached out with a sideswipe of her lingual organ.

    Captured the fleeting stinger in her buccal pouch. Mouthed the cockneck.


    Sadie Mae anointed the helmetlike grinning pricktip with her saliva, rutsweat. Sharp teeth whetting it.

    Readying the assemblage.

    Then frigging the underside vof the widened wedge-shaped razor-sharp prickpoint. Honed it to a fine edge of orgasm.

    Spasmed her lips.

    Caught the first drip of semen on her gums and squeezed the droplet of jizz out between her front teeth. Blowing scuzz bubbles.

    Foaming load.

    Choadwater spattered down her neck.

    Dreck capered up inside her nostrils.

    Sadie Mae flared her nose snidely.

    Opened lips widely.

    "Scuse me, Uncle Roy. But I gotta pee. Mind if I use your face?"

    "Disgraceful," Uncle Roy cackled. "A blood relation of mine."

    "I thought maybe you taught Sallie Anne about water sports. She seems to know a lot."

    "She must have got that angle from Mercedes. She practically invented it."

    "You rang?" Mercedes chimed, tangoing in with Randy and Bubba held by their piss-drenched hair. "Sadie Mae-how do you feel about taking on these studs today?"

    "One by one or-"

    "Any way you want to. After ail, they've both been wanting to ball you since before they found out how close a kin you are."

    "Don't make me barf."

    Uncle Roy coughed out:

    "Sadie Mae wants it. She shall have it* Give her a dose of her own medicine."

    Uncle Roy weaseled his shlong. Stretched it out long in front of him.

    Rimmed his mouth with tongue.

    Strummed his thumb along his horn.

    Flashed silvery liquid.

    Airborne piss fizzed brightly in the slants of the early morning sun.

    Sadie Mae snapped the mist in front of her face like a bitch with rabies.

    She smooched urine and tweaked it into her tresses. Piss-bleached pussyhairs lurched into toothsome view.

    Uncle Roy blew his homebrew onto her. Sluicing shimmering pizzie.

    Drizzling her fiddle.

    Sadie Mae diddled her clitoris with her thumb. Rose up on her hinders.

    Uncle Roy pissed on her bum.


    Cassie Lou sashayed in without so much as a hello to the crew.

    She shucked off her business garb and got down to business.

    She took her two half-brothers' twangers straight into her yip.

    Jacked them off with her mitts.

    Yancey and Uncle Roy pistoned their jackhammers in Cassie Lou's yammering maw. Mouthfucking in tandem, they rammed her thoroughly.

    Then burrowed into her from either end.

    They fucked their sister until she blistered.

    Wiped her off.

    Then kissed her.

    Felt her gingerly.

    Then speared her mercilessly.

    Remorselessly rutting away at Cassie Lou's various orifices, apertures, and ornaments. Fucked her in the cunt.

    Screwed her keister.

    Ran dong along her face.

    "This is one sister," Cassie Lou jawed loudly and proudly, "who knows her position in the family."


    Sadie Mae was hogtied and sprayed with bitchpiss in her kisser.

    Ramona led bullboys by the horns and bull whipped them in back of the general store.

    Mercedes rumphumped out by the gas pumps.

    While Sallie Anne kept the come creaming freely from the onslaught of trade ongoing in the bordello bungalows.

    Uncle Roy hosed down Mercedes with the jizz brewed up from fucking on Cassie Lou. Flashed his fanny in the face of Sellie Anne.

    Took the saddle handily and dallied up her underside. Stripping off his belt.

    He whacked her tush a touch.

    Saw the skin pink up.

    A welt rise.

    But not too much.

    Twisted her wrists together behind her asscrack. Noosed the belt on over.

    Roped her legs together and fucked on her mouth, ass, cunt, underarms, hair in general.

    Sallie Anne came hell-for-leather ail over the place. All the cuntjuice she could find she ejaculated in lurching glugs.

    Sadie Mae sucked her sister's yeasty pussbrew. Two sisters tied up.

    Suckering one another.

    He roped them together and then tethered a line out. Ramona seized it calculatedly and tied it on about Yancey's cock-an- balls rig.

    Mercedes frigged herself up perched off to the end of the bar looking as though she would come off coincidentally with puking bearfoam through her mouth and a snootful of brew from her cunt-flews, Ramona turned to Mercedes with a bullwhip rippling out toward her tits.

    "Well tie that snooty debutante bitch too. Hitch her, Rudedudes!"

    Uncle Roy passed his peepers around the activities in the surrounding glade. Such peace was hard to find these days.

    Family ties that bind.

  • Chapter 1
  • Chapter 2
  • Chapter 3
  • Chapter 4
  • Chapter 5
  • Chapter 6
  • Chapter 7
  • Chapter 8
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