Title : BendersAuthor: Mike DuncanE-mail: mduncansugar.neosoft.comSINCERE WARNING: I promise the story that follows will deeply offend somepeople. Think of the "more" prompt as a lottery of filth; if you dont wantto win, dont play. (Better yet, unsubscribe.) If youre a member of thetarget audience, however, you might recognize these characters as The Peoplein Your Neighborhood, whom you meet each day. Theyre all figments of myimagination, though. Not meant to resemble any persons living or dead, in anyway. Aaaaaall made up. Yessiree. Im posting this in a.s.s because I cant think of any other place whereit would be tolerated as a matter of course. The actual sex comes late in thestory and is hopelessly consensual, nonviolent and character-oriented, hardlystandard fuck-book issue, so I expect a few flames from disappointedmasturbators. Feel free to re-post it somewhere else, or even to print outcopies and show it to your non-net friends, keeping the authorship and leaderintact, of course. Feedback is appreciated. _benders_ is a sort of pre-quel sequel to a much longer story of thesame name. The action here takes place about two months after the originalbook ends. Im posting this because Ive lost my voice on chapter three andId like to see if Im even headed in the right direction. Yes, its rough,yes, its a little cryptic...but can you dig it? Thanks to Rabbit, who was there; to Marisa, for familiarizing me withSusans condition; and to the Lady Herself, for making all this necessary.Hope you enjoy the fairy tale. mduncansugar.neosoft.com 22 May 1993 But ah! what good to mortal mind is sense, What good to hearts is kindness, hands benevolence, When through the state a fever runs and revels, And evil hatches more and more of evils? Who views the wide realm from this height supreme, To him all seems like an oppressive dream, Where in confusion is confusion reigning, And lawlessness by law itself maintaining, A world of error forever obtaining. -- Johan Wolfgang von Goethebenders. by Mike Duncan. Copyright 1993. In the barren front room of a Houston office theyd rented under a falsename, three sixteen-year-old boys sat huddled around a computer terminal,busy stealing ten thousand dollars a day, the full limit of what MentatSecurity had authorized. Their plan, also approved and certified by theFoundation as a potentially dangerous extracurricular activity, involvedshuffling borrowed money from one account to another in large amounts and ina way that took advantage of the timing of electronic bank transfers. Theactual mechanics of the operation were terrifyingly complex; Tran navigatedthe stealer with his left hand on the mouse and his right over the numerickeypad, the data on the screen flowing directly into his consciousness, hisface sharply wrenched with the pain of a mentat trance. Ruben ate from a bag of Doritos and shook his head in time toMetallicas _Ride the Lightning_, while Josh occasionally glanced up from hisTerrible Teds laptop interface to rub his eyes and yawn. It had cost apretty penny to rent a Ted from the Foundation, but as long as Josh watchedit, he knew there were no police around and no one in the outside world knewor cared who the three thieves were. Looking up again, Josh said, "Wash your hands, man. Youre next." "Patience, neat freak," Ruben said. "The time has not yet come." Tran made no outward sign hed heard the exchange; in the thin graystrip that represented external reality, his mind logged the activity, foundit insignificant, and disregarded it. Meanwhile, in his main field ofthought, the mental images of two separate computer networks superimposed andflashed as he manipulated the harmonics of the systems links, wringing atiny fraction of error from each transaction as funds sloshed from one bankto another across the country. _Enough with North Carolina for now,_ hethought. _Lets scrape out Manhattan._ "Those are revolting," Josh said, gesturing to the Doritos, then,speaking to his computer: "Its illogical to poison yourself with emptycalories." This last carried a hint of accusation; in the Foundationsslippery rank classification, Josh scored somewhat above, and thus wasconsidered more powerful than, Ruben. "True enough. But to each his own poison, huh, Josh?" Josh flinched."Besides, its good food for the munchies." Ruben stood and went to wash hishands. "I dont know how you two can work on that shit." "Same way you work wired." The doorbell buzzed briefly. Before it stopped, Josh plucked hissilenced HK-93 from the floor and stepped out of the doors direct line ofsight, shouldering the weapon and preparing to flick the safety off. Rubenglided from the bathroom to a position left of the door, his arms crossedunder his jacket, one hand on his P226, also silenced, in its specialshoulder holster. Tran didnt look up. Without taking the time to spin up, Josh concentrated on the spacebeyond the closed suite door. Though blind to living tissue, his mentatstalent revealed a lone figure standing in the hallway...probably a man,judging by what the hang of his clothing revealed of his skeletal structure.Changing focus, Josh picked up the compact metal mass of a loaded gun in abelt holster. He tightened his finger on the safety and jerked his head twiceat Ruben, who bared his teeth in understanding and nodded back. "Who _is_ it?" Ruben called sweetly. Muffled by the door: "Harlan Jackson, Mentat Security. Put that thingaway before you kill somebody, for Christs sake." Josh returned to Terrible Ted, again laying his rifle on the carpetbeside him. Ruben opened the door, and Harlan walked in, a tall, intense black manin his early twenties. Stepping into the room, he pulled off his scarf toreveal the silver scores and insignia pinned to his black jacket, identifyinghimself, and scanned the room -- the setup, the young mutants and theirphysical attitudes. He sniffed the air and added that to his observation.Satisfied, his eyes returned to Ruben. By now Ruben had read and interpreted Harlans scores, and he stood upa little straighter and ran a hand through his hair. "Dude," he said by wayof salute. "Friendly neighborhood secret police, makin a house call," Harlan said,surveying the room again more closely. "We have to keep an eye on youassholes to make sure your activities dont threaten the safety and securityof the Foundation and the blah, blah, blah." Again his eyes fell on Ruben."Nice decor." "Everythings been approved," Ruben said quickly. "Wheres your Sally?" Harlan asked. It was common practice for mentatcrime cabals to retain a telepath or two for additional protection whenpitching their tent for an extended period. Depending on the crime, a SweetSally could command quite a fee. Josh glanced up at the question, thenknotted his brows and returned to his screen. "We dont have one." "You dont _have_ one! What are you going to do if some lowlifeFlatlander kicks in your door, blow him away in front of God and everybody?This isnt Foundation soil, man, you cant just sweep that shit under the rugso easily out here." "It was approved," Ruben said, gaining confidence. "There shouldnt beany local law trouble, and if things go RCF" -- randomly, catastrophicallyfuckola, as in a robbery attempt or demon attack -- "we can defend ourselveswith small arms, yes." "And they approved that." Harlan tilted his head back. "They did." "Aw, I dont fuckin believe this." Harlan shook his head, then examinedTrans screen. "Speaking of our friends in MS, a courier dropped off an eight-ball ofmighty fine powder this morning," Josh said without looking at Harlan. "Wantsome?" "No thanks," said Harlan, also without making eye contact. "Oops, okay, sorry. Master of Puppets and all that." "Nah, I dont give a shit." Harlan squinted. "Bank wank, huh? First timeout?" "Second," Ruben admitted. Harlan stared at Tran. "Gets into his work, doesnt he?" Now Josh did look at Harlan. "Hey, man, youre in the short lance withPelcher and Guile the Antichrist, arent you?" "Indeed I am," Harlan replied. "Hes not much of an antichrist off-duty,though. And I wouldnt call him that around Goblin. We all call him A.C." "I thought you werent supposed to like your code name." "Hes not the one who gets pissed." "Is he really as good as everybody says?" Harlan snorted. "Better, if were hearing the same stories." "Whats he like?" the boy asked. "He sleeps with my ex-girlfriend," Harlan said resentfully, meaningSusan Pelcher. With his face turned away from Jackson, Ruben pursed his lipswith desire. Though only nineteen, Goblin had already distinguished herselfin Foundation North Americas Q5 program, racking up a hundred and fifty-seven flags against the demons, helping to keep the world somewhat safe formutantkind, and in MS, where her skill at brain-raping Senators and captainsof industry had earned her the grudging but well-deserved admiration ofoperatives twice her age. And she was fine, too. "That sucks," said Josh without much conviction. "Yeah. Well, I can see you guys are running a tiptop Boy Scout operationhere, and although it pains me somewhat to say it, I dont think I can citeyou on any Code violations, except perhaps being cheap bastards...and denyingsome indolent girl a little pocket money. Provided you get this fucking rifleoff the floor, that is." Harlan nudged Joshs Heckler Koch with his foot."They let you carry field arms around on the street. Inside of the barrellooks filthy, too. Whats the world coming to. Okay, well, have fun." Ruben showed Harlan the door. The older mentat draped his scarf over hisjacket again, scanned the hallway, and left. "I wonder whats like to work with Guile Edwards," Josh saidwonderingly. Or to ride his woman like a wild stallion, Ruben thought. "I hear hesreal normal." "What the fuck is normal?" Tran said, making the others jump. Recovering, Ruben said, "Not like Custer Triumphant or something, likeso many snappers. Imposing. You know." Josh did know. All mentats knew. It was tough, in certain ways, not tohave direct mental influence over the outside world. Bad enough that somewomen could read minds and imprint their bad trips on others at will; worsethat the rest of the mutant men and women, the snappers, enjoyed a sort ofexoskeletal telekinesis, allowing them to behave like cartoons in the face ofphysical danger. If you were Chosen, all you could do was rely on the GreatCurve and try to aim for their fillings. So he said, with a little bitterness, "What does he have to feelthreatened by? Susan the Felcher sleeps on the end of his bed, it is rumored,ready to spring to awakening and murder with buckshot any who would _dare_to --" "Better shut up. She can probably hear you from wherever she is." "So?" "Hey, fat boy," Tran said, still scowling. "You wanna come give me abreak?" "Yeah, balance it." Soon Ruben was angry, Tran messaged his temples and tweezed one of Tedscontrols, and Josh knelt over a low table, carefully scooping sifted cocaineonto a polished mirror, anticipating the crispness of it. "You got the easy job," Tran said. "I think my cut reflects that fact, thank you. Ive worked with Pelcher,by the way. How anyone can stay so stoned and still be such a bitch is beyondme." Still, that petite body, that auburn hair, those reddish-browneyes...just thinking of what she could do to your pleasure centers in five_minutes_ if she were really trying...the thought turned Joshs dork intocement. He pushed the fantasy away, saving it for later, when he was alone. Tran mimicked their Criminal Science instructor. "Based on yourtemperament and past experiences, sir, logic suggests youre speaking out ofjealousy. You friggin breeder." "Perhaps. Excuse me a second." With two strong sniffs, Josh improved hisworld. "Does it matter?" He sat back to wait for the ride. "Been back to Mendel recently?" "No, I try to stay away. Until -- ah." It had begun. "Until nextquarter, when I join Q5 and become a bender like whiny boy out there, theresno reason to leave the Security safehouse." He felt the rising urge to growexpansive on Harlans shortcomings as one-time concubine to the Mentat Ideal,but squashed it. "Pelchers trying to kick." "Really?" Josh grinned evilly. "What fun." Sobriety was coming hard for the Goblin Queen. It had been six days --well, okay, five and a very long half -- since Susans last joint, and wordhad already gotten around the compound that she wasnt losing her mind orhaving an early mid-life crisis, she was merely kicking her trademark monkeyoff her back. Mendel being what it was, nobody harassed her, and she evenreceived offers of support from some unexpected places, but none of it helpedvery much; no more so than, say, gritting her teeth, which she was gettinggood at. It also didnt help that she had to walk past the drug dispensary everyafternoon on the way to work. It was located in the Mentat Security building,and because the dickheads were touchy about people wandering around in there,theyd placed the long glass Soma Counter just inside the east entrance,where long rays of evening sun could filter through the East Texas pines andcaress the panoply of mind-warping delights displayed there. If you elbowedyour way through the perpetual scum of window-shopping Family members withtheir beads and tie-dye saying DUDE and DIG IT and handed the dickhead onduty your ID and credit chip, hed smirk at you and then bring you whateveryou wanted: Foundation Gold Bud, Byrds Best Red, Smash Hash...ahh. Orecstasy, PK25, CN8, coke, even horse tranquilizers, if thats what you reallywanted. For Susan, for the past two years, it had always been grass. But notany more. A couple of glasses of wine before bed, wrapped up in Guiles arms whilethey watched the sun rise, werent the same as getting really baked. Neitherwere the long walks in the woods, the hours spent meditating and wanderingthe Frontier under the faceless onyx benediction of the Black Goddess, or thetime spent screwing the pants off Edwards when they could both find a hole intheir schedules. Together, though, these things formed a sort of compositecrutch, and by day five-and-a-half she began to think she might actually makeit. That afternoon, two U.S. Marshals met her across from the Soma Counter,beneath the huge Mentat Security emblem, a silver skeletal winged serpent ona field of black. They were both low-power snappers; the younger one wore agovernment suit with a faux-boring tie, and the other wore cowboy clothes,boots, and the wrinkled-in perpetual frown of a hardass. They seemed to berepresentatives of different contingents, and when they had to be in the sameroom together they stayed at opposite ends. The suit, whose name was Wagner, briefed her at the back of the upstairsteaching theater. Down front, on the podium, a naked man helped a woman withblue hair dissect the guidance system from a thousand-pound laser bomb.Wagner tried not to appear disoriented and failed. "Is that everything you need?" Wagner asked at last. "I think so," Susan said. "Youve been pretty thorough. Assuming your opin Kansas City places her marker properly, and assuming Michaud stays putuntil morning, it shouldnt be any trouble finding him." "Shell be fifty miles away, though." Susan shrugged. "And Im a thousand miles away. It doesnt matter." "I dont understand how this shit works, to be honest with you. Whatdoes screed 24B mean?" In this case, it meant that Michaud, her target, could be identified inpart by his sexual preference for violence with young children, which left amusty, stinking cloud in the Frontier if you were looking for it. Thequestion itself also meant that Wagner was new at this, and if she mentionedit to Molly, he wouldnt be returning to Mendel. The Goblin Queen smiled andshrugged again. Wagner closed his leather folder. "Dont you want to know what this guydid?" Susan stopped smiling. "I really dont." You learned not to ask. They came to you with a mandate -- a spec-sheet,they called it in the Temple -- and you knew better than to probe, no matterwhat they paid you by the minute. A spec-sheet, a time line, and they askedyou no questions and usually expected the same courtesy in return.Professionalism. When her pager lit up BLACK STAR Q2 -- REPORT, it meant thatthe Foundation brass had collectively decided someone out there was betteroff dead, and the Foundations say-so was good enough for Susan. It kept hersane, anyway, and watching Uma coo and sing to her bomb while she pickedlittle bits of it apart and handed them to Jerry made Susan appreciate littlethings like her sanity. What was left of it, anyway. An hour later, she was sitting Indian-style on the floor of an isolationroom in the Temple of Darkness, robed in gray wool, her human sensesextinguished, surrounded by deadspace and the Frontier. During preliminarycalisthenics, she was amazed at how much more fluid her astral body hadbecome since the last black star -- maybe this sobriety thing actually hadbenefits. One could hope. She shredded the intruding throught and launchedherself straight up until the unimaginable enormity of WorldWatch swayedbeneath her like billions of angry, passionate diamonds. She cued in on Myungs signal in Kansas and followed it down. Squintingat the screed-marks shed pressed into the Frontier, Susan took flight againand queried WorldWatch more specifically. Michauds signal flared in responseat the corner of her astral vision; with a thought, she locked on, appearedbeside him...inside him. Goblin ripped through her targets superego, looking for his PrimaryMotivator, trying to hold her breath against the sickness and perversion thatthreatened to overwhelm her. The two times shed disobeyed orders and combedout her targets before dispatching them, Susan had immediately wished shehadnt. It wasnt necessary to high-comb Michaud to understand what kind ofperson he was. The mans followers burned incense and chanted in the nextroom, but they wouldnt be able to help him escape tonight. She perforated his PM and separated it from the rest of his centralcluster, hitting her retros quickly and digging in as the feedback agonywashed over her. For a timeless instant (the coin of the realm in deadspace)she chanted her own mantra and wondered if this one would be it, if Edwardswould be sleeping alone tonight. When the tide broke, she actually smiled --not at the pain, but at her mastery over it. Just like back home. As Michauds spark of humanity began its long slide downward into theWell of Souls, Goblin was dimly surprised at how much more smoothly thannormal things had gone. She hung back until Michaud (gary -- that was his name. the first one, there in the park, under thesodium lamp. what purity and potential, a shame to lose it forever to therandom forces of an uncaring world. children must be saved from the sullyingpower of the world. they must experience the magnificence of purity ofessence and then be extinguished before their inner beauty could becontaminated. michaud kept them all safe, every one that he touched, allserve michaud the messiah) gave up his Animal Mother and disintegrated into nothingness. Then sheretreated homeward with Myungs _day-o_ confirmation ringing in her ears. Susan found herself flat on her back in the Temple once more, surroundedby the familiar muted smells of incense, marijuana, and sex. Someone was inthe room with her, but she couldnt tell who, not immediately. Shed been indeadspace for seven minutes, and it felt as if every cell of her body hadbeen scrubbed with a ton of ashes, half of which shed then swallowed. Shetried to stretch, vaguely aware of the fresh tears on her cheeks. "Goblin? Hey, take it easy," a young girl said. Susan felt the presencebending over her. "Its Beaker, Goblin. Are you okay? Are you all right?" Still blind, Susan gasped, "...give me a level, would you...." Beaker held up her left index finger, flaring hard. The isolation roomlit up from the younger girls perspective, and Susan felt the coarseness ofher purple Acolytes robe, the sign of a holy Temple prostitute. She was onlyfifteen, Susan realized; all this must be so foreign to her. She caught theechoes of confusion, a cacophony of dissenting voices within Beaker. She wasuncertain and afraid, unsure of what came next. So was Susan, but you had tobe careful around the low-powers. Couldnt let them think you werent incontrol. Before she knew what was happening, Susan felt Beakers arms around her,clutching for her warmth. Goblin, not Susan, responded, and she wiped hertears against the girls blonde hair, grateful for human warmth in thismoment of weakness. "Perfect, Beaker," she whispered. Trina liked women as well as men, butSusan didnt care at the moment. "Thank you." "They left me in here by myself," Beaker murmured against Susans neck."What am I supposed to do? Seriously?" "Do you have any juice? My blood sugar...." "Oh, yeah," Beaker said, and held the tumbler for Susan. "Thanks," Susan said again. Her Flat senses were beginning to reassertthemselves. "This is your first star sober, isnt it?" Beaker said. "Dark Lady bless the rumor mill." "Jessica said that when you were growing up, you couldnt even drink.She said you werent even allowed to drink tea or coffee. Is that true?" Susan tried to laugh. "Thats probably all Jessica knows about how I wasraised, but at least she got that right. Yes, its true." "Did you do it?" "I followed the rules, just like I do here." "God, if I had to spend a week not drinking or jerking off or evenswearing, I would kill myself." "Hmm, done some research on your own, I see. Cool." "So what happened?" "What ever happens? I joined the Foundation, shed innocent blood andturned my back on the Holy Ghost. I saved lives. I followed the rules. I lostmy worthiness. So what?" "I got real depressed when my dad ran off," Beaker said quickly. "I tookBenedyct every day. Sometimes Id drink a bunch of TranQuil, too. It helps." Susan pulled herself together, pressing her knees against her breasts."Youre _way_ too young to have a history like that, you know it, Beaker?" "Yeah, well, so are you." They grinned at each other. "Are you okay?" Beaker asked again. "Getting better. Is that fed still hanging around out front?" Beaker covered her mouth. "Hes trying to quit smoking cigarettes, youknow. Every time the guards light up, he cringes. Poor guy. Keeps pacing." "I have good news for him. That should cheer him up." Beakers eyes grew wide. "You did it?" "Yes, I did. Get used to it." "I thought --" Beaker shut up, which cemented Susans good opinion ofher more than anything she could have said. "Ill go post it on the WetBoard. Your clothes are -- you know." "I know." Susan dressed and reapplied her makeup before leaving the isolationroom. Her hundred-dollar sundress struck her as banal and malevolent; sheheld her hand under the rooms sole lamp and checked her nail beds, squintingfor the faces of dead friends, hoping she hadnt become smacked out there,but she was okay. Just a little twitchy. She shrugged. She snagged one nudestocking pulling it back on, producing a run near the top, but Guile wouldntmind. With a few deep breaths, she opened the door and made her way back outof the Temple, down the corridors of closed doors and dimly lit groupconsciousnesses, to the Celestial Room, a score of hairstyles apparentthrough the gloom of either nave. She knelt for the required period beforethe statue of the Black Goddess, blew out her prayer candle and progressed tothe antechamber, where she surrendered her robe and blessing. After a littleobligatory kibitzing with the Acolytes, she pushed open the outside doors,squinting against the last of the evening sun. Shed left her Wayfarers inGuiles room that morning. Mistake. Wagner stood facing away from the Temple, surreptitiously checking outthe tide of weirdness as Mendels population drifted to evening duties. Notall were benders or full-time Foundation employees, and Wagners attentionlingered on the visitors, looking for a touch of familiarity. Bracing herrifle against her hip with one hand, Horowitz blew a lungful of smoke inSusans direction, then pointed at Wagners back and made a circular motionat her temple. Susan nodded and cleared her throat. "Mr. Wagner?" Hed clipped his shield to his suit pocket, she saw. Now he brushed histhumb against the strip of green tape that covered its face -- regulations --and said, "Howd it go?" "Day-o." When his thats-very-nice expression failed to change, sheremembered and said, "I got him. Brain hemorrhage. Happens all the time, noone knows why." "Untraceable?" Crap, he asked a lot of questions. She pointed at his badge. "We green-tape people hold all the guns. As far as the Flat world knows, he justdropped dead." "Thanks." "You dont have to thank me. Ill file my report this evening. I justwanted you to know. You dont happen to know where Guile Edwards is, do you?" "They said youd ask." He fumbled in his pocket for a yellow sheet ofpaper. "Hes in Sheol, room fourteen. Makes sense?" "It does." Susan shook hands. "Take it easy." Susan stepped into the crowd and dissolved into welcome anonymity,heading for the MS Clubhouse. This would traditionally be stay-in-the-abattoir-and-get-wasted time, and though the cravings had indeed tapered off,Susan was a creature of habit. It was no coincidence that Guile was the firstthing shed asked for, and if he was goofing off in Sheol, he was probablyinterruptible. With a little persuasion, of course. Crossing the Commons, she passed by Speakers Corner and saw a dickheadin uniform, including the ubiquitous utility belt but minus insignia,standing on a stepladder marked with an inverted crucifix. Hed gathered asmall crowd beneath the cluster of green and Flat flags, and was haranguingthem in a surprisingly well-modulated voice: "What is the answer to SuchuksDilemma, sisters and brothers? I say God hasnt turned his back on our kind;He never existed for humanity at all! Satan is our spiritual Father! Examinethe world as it exists, logically, and you will realize that the most singlemost destructive force, even before the demons came, has always been...." _What_an_idiot,_ Susan thought, and tuned him out. She peered into thecrowd, looking for Harlan, then remembered he was in Houston today, playingGestapo with his new scores. Well, good for him. It beat his sulking around,and it was about time he got a little respect from the people he grew upwith. The guard at the Clubhouse door waved Susan in. "If youre looking forthe Antichrist, I think hes melting his brain in the virtual reality room." "Thank you, Brad," she said evenly. "That is his name, right?" Brad called as she walked away. "Creepies,"he told his boyfriend with a shrug, when she was out of earshot. "Can you --Hey, hold it there, pardner. I need to see your I.D." Susans flats clicked against the tile as she passed by rows of gung-hodickhead posters, culminating in a recognizable watercolor of Damon Suchukhimself. She entered Sheols hushed computer room, nodded to a man dressed asa clown when he pointed at chamber fourteen and mimed dilating pupils, andquietly let herself in. Guile lay motionless in the chambers deep sofa, a VR helmet completelycovering his head. A color-cycling Mandelbrot set slowly changed shape on theconsoles monitor -- This is Your Brain on Drugs, with a little help frommodern computer technology. Newbies loved this kind of stuff, especially onpsychedelics. Susan smiled affectionately. A young guy in college clothes stood before Guile, partially blockingSusans view. As she closed the door, he half-turned, startled. He wasstirring something in a glass bowl, and he moved it away from his body,flaring guilt and embarrassment. He knew he was caught. He was planning to_do_ something to Guile. Susan had been working herself up to a general love-the-world feeling,trying to combat her own guilt for having performed the black star, but allthat fell away in an instant. Her reflexes took over and she churned the deepwaters within her, raising her left hand, palm out. She locked on to theintruder and targeted as he opened his mouth to speak. Grimacing, she plantedher feet and fired a single inhibitor bolt, just enough to let him feel theroots of all his teeth. Her target dropped the bowl as his whole body convulsed, and he fell tothe floor in a semisolid heap, cracking his head against the tile, his signaldiminishing as he passed out. Screw him. If he was in Mendel, he was amutant, which meant hed heal. Depending on what she found in the bowl, thatis. Shaking off the feedback pain, Susan spat on his body and took a closerlook at Guile, making sure he was okay. Hed fallen in love with expensiveItalian suits and silk ties from hanging around Susan at work, a taste shedencouraged, initially by gently reminding him he could afford it. Lying thereas he was, head covered, hands folded on his suited chest, he looked like hewas waiting in state, and _more_ death thoughts were not the dressing forSusans salad at that moment. She wanted to rush to him and put her hands onhim, to prove to herself that he was alive, to wake him up and sink herselfinto the reassuring warmth of his presence. Because, of course, the Foundation didnt give out code names likeAntichrist without good reason. Lying there, lost in his acid-warped innerlandscape, Guile was making that damned "little humming noise" that causedhis shadow to vanish from Frontier space. No one in the world could lock onto him or even see him, not even the mighty Trees in their undergroundbunkers. To Susan, mildly telepathic since birth, he completely failed toregister on the most important sense in her existence, and reclined on thecouch in a straight, taut mass like a puppet of meat, like a dream. Worst of all, if he slammed the door while you were in his mind, it hurtin proportion to the strength of your lock. His talent was absolute andunique. Guile was to other telepaths what Susan was to mentats; shed had tofight to keep him to herself. He was switched off, though, so he must be okay. She ran her play-byback and reassured herself shed caught this asshole _before_ the act. Wakingher baby right now would only confuse him at an already confusing time. Her target had "beanie" written all over him: a student working his waythrough college on a Foundation scholarship, which entitled MS to burn himlike cordwood on their local operations. Hed one day be a moneyman or apaper-face, from the look of his casual wear, but at the moment he was a painin the ass. Susan pitoned her way into his skull and, staring at the bowl ofmuck on the floor, remembered the beanie mixing its reagents in the labupstairs. It was itchy paste. She pulled up a chair and rested one hand on Guiles knee, pretendingshe was a little girl, the way she sometimes did when they were alone.Gradually, the frat-boy stirred and pushed himself to a sitting position. "The fuck, man...my head...." "Whats your name?" Susan said briskly, sitting up as well. "My names Matt, and youre a bitch. I cant --" "Matt, I want you to imagine feeling even worse than you do right now...Cant do it? Too bad, I love a challenge. Now listen carefully. What kindof idiot stunt did you have planned, exactly, with that itchy paste? Hasanyone explained the rules of this place to you?" "I dont know who the hell you think you are, but --" The door slammed open and a soldier leaped into the room, a dark-skinnedsnapper in full MS uniform...minus flak armor, of course. She held abeautiful double-edged Norse battle ax at the ready, and her submachine gunbounced off her hip as she fell into a crouch. "All right, goddamn it...." She trailed off, taking the situation in,and dejectedly dropped her spirit weapon. It flashed blue and disintegratedin sections as it touched the floor. Touching her headset, the soldier said,"Twenty-five fourteen to Dad. -- Forget it, guys, its just Pelcher goinginto withdrawal again. Ill clean up here." "Pelcher?" the beanie said, recognition dawning. He craned his neck tolook at Guile. "Youre -- so he must be --" Color drained from his face andhe assumed an expression of horror, much like a newbie after his first flag.Perfect, really; just the effect Susan was hoping for. She checked; Guile wasstill in la-la land. "Poonam," she began. "Dont Poonam me, Im working. Whats the problem here, Pelcher?" "Prankster," Susan said simply. Poonams whole manner changed. "Oh really." "Itchy paste." "Well." Poonam crossed the room and hauled the beanie to his feet withone hand. "Wheres your visitors tag, bud?" "What about her fucking I.D.?" "One, she doesnt need I.D.; she lives here. Two, she has access toplaces I dont know about, so its kinda useless checking it anyway. Heresyours, tucked in your little condom pocket. Hold still for the scanner. Youtaken any brain-killing chemicals I should know about?" "What -- Of _course_ not! Who --" "Three, Im starting to see why she hit you with her magic club, and Imgonna do the same with my own if you dont stand still and shut yourdickheaded beanie ass _up._" "Why do these assholes call us that?" Sure enough, Poonam tapped him onthe head with her hardpointed palm. She missed the bruise Susan gave him, butstarted a pretty good one of her own. Poonam peered at her clipboard. "Because these assholes, and I used tobe one, are a little resentful of your, oh, _mainstream_ glory and success inFlatland, while we combatants have to do a dirty job and spend all the timehiding. Also, we dont fuck with each other, and whenever someone doessomething like _that_ --" She turned his head toward the smashed bowl. "Itsalways some snotty outsider like you, Matthew A. Reed. Arent you supposed tobe somewhere else, like down the hall with your group?" "Thanks, Poonam," Susan said. "Thanks? I should probably write you up for poleaxing him, but it wouldtake too long. You can go." The beanie started for the door, but Poonam jerked him back. "Did I say, You can go, asshole? No. Youre under arrest." She cuffedhim. "Jeez, you know...I _think_ somebody named Reed is in trouble up at thedesk. Cant quite remember; you know hammerheads arent too bright. Nooffense to Edwards," she told Susan with a wink. "Better march you up theremyself." Poonam glanced at the Mandelbrot design on Guiles screen while shesquared her gear away. She considered hanging around on some pretext --Guiles time on the VR machine was almost up, and it was still consideredhigh humor in the Foundation ranks to watch Pelcher act all gooshy over herpet snapper. She decided against it; shed just given this propeller-head alecture on privacy, after all. "Up and at em, buttsmack. You can come backand clean up later." As the door clicked shut, the VR monitor flashed and filled withlowercase text. Guiles trip was over -- at least, the computer-generatedportion of it. His breathing changed, and he shifted on his couch. At last hebounced into view, and his WorldWatch tag reappeared between frames. He satup and pulled off his helmet. He was huge and gorgeous. He was built tall and broad-shouldered, onpaper the ideal killing size, but when he wasnt actually fighting he carriedhimself with the self-conscious gravity of the protagonist in a childspicture book. If he kept wrinkling his face in the same places when he wasconfused, he would one day look exactly like Harrison Ford. He had brown-and-green eyes, a common secondary mutation and one that gave Susan impurethoughts, and platinum-brown hair, which didnt make sense until you saw it.He was scrumptious, and he even thought she was attractive, which she decidedwas probably fortunate, considering. When he _was_ pushed into a fight, his presence became compelling, evenoverpowering, and naturally he never lost. He never picked fights andsuffered a sort of Jeckyl-and-Hyde relationship with himself when he wasamong Foundation society. He destroyed every challenger from above andbeneath him when he was sucked into the Arena, but refused to advance hisscore by initiating combat. Snapper society polarized around the issue ofwhether he was brilliant or an idiot for doing this; whichever, Susan (withhelp from Guiles other admirers) had made it graphically clear that multipleambushes would not be the sporting way to go about things. Mutant eyes didnt actually dilate, but when he turned to her andsmiled, his echo made it clear that he was indeed twisted. "Susie! What a surprise." Without answering, she leaned down and pressed herself into his arms,the way Beaker had tried to do to her earlier. He responded, threading hisfingers into her hair and cradling her against him, and she was grateful. "Are you okay?" he asked as she straightened. "Unpleasantness at the Temple. Its over now." "Im sorry, honey. " He stood up and straightened out his clothes. "Mycoping mechanisms are a little scattered at the moment." "Thats okay. I can cope. I just wanted to go someplace and be alone,and youre the best person to be alone with. What do you say?" "Ooh, I say neat line. Lets go." "The biggest asshole I ever met used that on me when I was at Bacon,"Susan said, taking his arm. "I almost went for it. Howd you get in here?Youre not technically cleared for it." "There was a creepy on duty earlier." Guile grinned, remembering. "Dont say creepy, Edwards." "Well, except for you, most of them _are_ creepy." "I know. Its still impolite." Leaving the Clubhouse, they were the cute couple walking arm in arm.Guile tried to keep a straight face while Susan threw brightly coloredelephants and bell towers in his eyes. He burst out laughing outside, then sucked in a good lungful of thesweet April air, that final brisk snap that precedes six months of DantesInferno in Houston. "Nirvana," he said, and slipped his arm around her waist. "God, yourebeautiful. Just so you wont think Ive been goofing off all day, I spent theafternoon giving a the old-timers a demonstration on how to smash Plexiglas."He laughed again. "I was straight then. See, you have to use your esper tofeel out the area, and then you section it off and give each part a differentnerve channel to follow...." She waved at a lance of mounted guards headed for the outer perimeter,and patiently tried to keep up with his incomprehensible telekineticgibberish. Shed tried to read their textbooks, and some of the theory madesense, but the advanced stuff sounded like a P.E. coach wired and trying tosell a Unified Theory of physics. Guiles life wasnt the Arena, though. "...and then give it a whack with the blunt end of the old teardrop, andkee-rash!" He flipped up his free arm without warning, firing a long bluebullet that streaked across the path and through a section of trees, dimplingthe side of a nearby metal building with a profound bang. "Hey!" aninhabitant yelled, irritated. "Shit," Guile said. "Hey, isnt that the Family warren? Lets stop in." "Im not comfortable going in there, baby," Susan said, and mimed tokinga roach. "Of course." A wash of self-pity and remorse. "What a good influenceI --" "Thats right, you are. Thats why I came looking for you when I wasupset." "But I --" "Only for the fifth time in two months, and the first one didnt count.Thats not what Im craving, anyway. Calm down." Guile grinned a stupid acid grin and pulled Susan closer, reveling inthe sweet fragrance of her hair. He was happy. Back home in White Plains, themost hed had to look forward to was an increasingly serious involvement withlow-level Mafia types, stealing Porches and setting warehouse fires for a cutof the insurance money, relying on his green blood to keep him just out ofharms way, thinking he was going crazy as the power grew stronger. Now, here in Houston (and every place the Global Research Foundationdiscreetly stamped its silver rings on a field of black), he was respectedand appreciated for what he was. True, he had to fly all over the country"clearing" those poor random Flat bastards who woke up one morning with alittle extra brain tissue they didnt have the night before, but he wasdirectly saving others lives by doing so. Besides, Goblin and Zulu werethere to help him, and, to be honest, even the demons were better thanfeeling as alone as he did before he joined the Foundation. "Do me a favor," he said. "Name it." "If you grok somebody sneaking up behind me, sing out, would you? Idont want to get sneak-attacked; Im still pretty scattered. Just give me alittle warning, you know?" "Always, Edwards." They emerged onto a circular plain before the extravagant, misnamedBarracks. You could only stack psychotics, adolescents and drug addicts threeor four high, especially if you were located somewhere near the airport andhad to do a hell of a lot of greasing to keep people looking somewhere elseanyway. Three high it was; the Barracks sprawled, and they advised you tostay out of the building altogether when they handed you your visitors passat Mendels front desk. "The Presidents are doing the Lords work in Schenectady tonight," Susansaid, checking her watch in the elevator. Someone had painted IM PSYCHIC onthe back wall. "Connors, Lee and Zapata are up next, and then its us. Say,eighteen hours. You ready?" Clouds covered Edwards face. "Jesus, Im never ready." "Youve never let me down, either." She pecked his cheek, sorry shedbrought it up. "Next week we get a cycle free. What do you say to Paris?" "Give Athena the apple." "What -- Very funny. Really, its old and historic and dirtier thanChicago and they dont pick up the garbage as often. Plus I can guarantee youwont like the French people. Want to go?" "How can I say no?" Arriving at her quarters, Susan checked her mailbox and then turned toexamine the note on her door. The main body of it was a piece of a poem byYeats: Never shall a young man Thrown into despair By those honey-colored Ramparts at your ear, Love you for yourself alone And not your yellow hair. A second admirer had crossed out "honey" and "yellow" and written"reddish-brown, like a smoldering fire viewed through amber, idiot"; thefirst had returned, crossed out all references to hair and drawn arrows tothree characters of Syllabus, the non-mathematical script used for recordingscreeds. Susan squinted at the bad mentat calligraphy, then snatched the note offher door and made a great show of crumpling it up. "That looked cool," Guile said. "What did it say?" "It said that some scammers dont know when a ladys out of the market.And most of them are a little too disgustingly direct, anyway. Dont feelthreatened." Susan pressed her I.D. chip into the doorknob, and it turnedfreely. "Why feel threatened?" Guile said, entering. Susans quarters looked like the inside of her head. Someone hadoriginally filled it with elegant, feminine furniture and fixtures, all of itfunctional and quite sturdy, and then theyd gone back around spreadingweapons and evidence of worldliness and iniquity throughout. Guiles eyeimmediately went for the HK Model Z on its wall pegs, longing to switch thelaser sight to visible red and pretend he was a mentat on Mendels outerperimeter, waiting for another sea-tide of demons to try to break through theline. He was in a game-playing mood. Instead, Susan turned and pushed the door closed over Guiles shoulder,then backed him up against it, urging him to silence with her eyes. Shestepped out of her shoes and raised her dress far enough to press the insideof her thigh against his hip, then stood on her toes and pulled his face downto hers. Susan kissed him deeply, drinking him in at last. Suddenlyremembering that they were home, Guile responded, both emotionally andphysically. She broke the kiss and lowered her body somewhat, raising the front ofher dress so she could press herself against the growing bulge in histrousers. "Lucky thing youre not threatened, or this might come as a bigsurprise, huh, baby. Mmhh, that feels good." He dropped his hands to her buttocks and pulled her hips forward at afamiliar angle, and Susan remembered. Damn it. "Sweetheart, I dont think weshould make love right now." Immediately he took a half-step backwards, confused. "Whats wrong?" "I performed a black star an hour ago, so Im likely to be dead in bed.Sorry, baby, I was recovering so fast that I almost forgot." "Well why didnt you say --" "Oh come on, Edwards, Im not crippled, I just wont be having anyorgasms for a while. That doesnt mean I cant be nice to you in themeantime." She dropped her voice a major third and stroked the firm pouchbetween his legs with her fingertips. "What do you say to Susan?" "If youre having a hard time with sex, we could just --" "I think youre hungry, darling. I can feel your hunger, you know. Itfeels hot, and hard, and very powerful." She stroked him more insistently,tilting her head up toward him. She stepped inside his Shield radius again,pressing his back against the door. "I could satisfy your hunger for you, ifyoud like. Would you like that?" "Yes, I would." Guile fumbled with his belt and zipper, releasinghimself from the prison of his shorts. Susans fingers played over his bareskin, and he arched his back and closed his eyes. Susan dropped to her kneesand kissed the head of Guiles cock. "Susan...." "Yes, Guile?" she said, turning her face to him. "Thank you." "For what?" "You dont have to do this." "Of course not. Like this morning, when I woke up out of the Nightmare,screaming and crying. You didnt have to sit up with me and hold me until Iwent back to sleep, but you did." He furrowed his brow. "But I wanted to do that." "And I want to do this." Susan gently tickled the hair on his balls, andslipped his head into her mouth, rubbing it with her tongue. "Do you needthis, Guile?" "Oh God, yes, I do." Locking his fingers into her thick hair, Guilepressed himself upwards into her mouth. After a few clicking noises, sheaccepted him into her throat, and Guile passed beyond the cares of thisworld. All he could feel was warmth and softness, an unbearable moistpressure sliding along his length, and the lubrication of his lovers salivaas it leaked out of her mouth and covered his testicles. She toyed with himwith both hands, bringing a low shudder of animalistic passion to Guileslips, which Susan loved. She tried harder. "Wait, honey, wait," he said, letting go of her hair. She got to herfeet, still sliding her palms and fingers up and down his manhood, and gavehim a smeared-lipstick kiss. He kissed her back with feeling, but grabbed herwrists and pulled her away. "Im about to come." "Good, sweetheart. Make me all messy. Thats right, just let go." He tried to speak, but she kissed him again and cheated just a little,stroking him long and slow while victimizing him with a sensuous expressionfrom Guiles subconscious. Suddenly Guile stiffened and flared his fourth andfifth registers, and Susan, realizing that multiple false starts were notGuiles strong suit, leaned in close to her man, pressed her lips against theside of his neck, and wrapped her hands around his genitals while thepleasure wracked his body. She couldnt tell if he whispered her name or just thought it reallyloud, but she gave his penis a final squeeze and said, "I love you, Edwards,and Im glad I did that." "Oh, Susan. I cant believe youd take advantage of your poor, druggedboyfriend like that," he said, kissing her forehead. "I think acid is your _force_majeure,_ baby," Susan said, handing him atowel. "I always thought it would be the Arena, but there are worse thingsthan genuinely peaceful men. Mind if I --?" Guile shrugged. Susan hit the bathroom, cleaned the debris off herhands, unloaded a bunch of herbal tea and diluted CN5, and repaired her face.Deciding that the role of seductress was over, she took off her sundress; sheliked this one, and it was just a matter of time before it got ruined at workanyway. Reentering the main room in flesh-colored bra, panties and garter belt,she saw Guile lying naked on the bed, trying not to look too pleased withhimself. "Peaking?" she asked. "I think so." "As long as you dont go all timid and paranoid like last time,everything should work out," Susan said, turning on the sound system.Pressing RANDOM produced "Body and Soul" by Billie Holliday. "It isntlogical to be afraid of me, not for any reason." "I can feel my skin crawling," he said, scratching his chest. Susan faced him and struck a pose to let him know she wasnt throughwith him yet, then said, "Thats your healing factor. It means yourehealthy...very, very healthy. Its a good sign." "Feels weird. Hey, would you hand me your HK-Z?" "Its loaded with boltcutters, and its not a toy," she said, lying downon the bed beside him. "If you want to play with something, how about mybody?" She closed her eyes and stretched out languorously, crossing one ankleover the other, pleased that Guile was already becoming aroused again. Shefelt his strong hands brushing lightly against her stomach, and her musclesquivered in response. He dropped lower, caressing the soft skin of her thighswith the back of his fingers, amusing himself. He really couldnt helphimself when he was in an altered state like this. Well, why not; he had aright to use her flesh for whatever he wanted. She wondered if hed explore her legs next, and her calves, and feet. Hehad a thing about nylon stockings, an obsession she indulged wheneverpossible. Growing up, shed been expected to look and act the feminine partwhen she wasnt actually sick in bed, and it was easier to stick withsomething that worked than to look for a new gender-role definition. Alongcame Guile, and suddenly she was Betty Page. Again, why not? It beatdickheads thinking she was quaint because she didnt say "fuck" every othersentence and getting all hot and bothered because her Disneyland screed wascrosslinked. Instead, he propped himself up on one elbow and gently kissed her lips,then rested his palm against her cheek and traced the line of her nose withhis thumb. With the greatest fighter in the world lying beside her, exploringthe curves of her face with his fingertips, Susan sighed in contentment andcompletely relaxed for the first time all day. "That feels good, honey." She wrinkled her brow, making Guile try tostraighten it out again. "At this rate, Ill be good for something beforeevening duties after all. Ive never recovered from deadburn this quicklybefore. That does it: no more dope." "Now that youre sure, can I ask why?" "I havent said, have I? Because of you. No, dont frown, Im not tryingto guilt-trip you. Remember that time I went off on a long spiel about howthe only time I could ever scrape all the fog away, could really feel myemotions and the world around me, was when I was stoned?" Guile unhooked her bra with one hand and kissed her breast. "Iremember." "Mmm. You made this really horrible face when I said that, baby. I blewit off at the time, but last week, before the Marble Falls run, it was all Icould think about." She shifted. "In retrospect, I think grass was impairingmy effectiveness, on the job and everywhere else." "Does the CN5 help?" "Unfortunately. Vanderhoff says Ill probably always have to take it tokeep my head in balance. Another reason I can never leave the Foundation."Guiles mouth dropped open. "I mean, my womb is already screwed up, why notthrow my brain onto the fire. Hurray for Mr. Green Genes." "Susan?" Her entire face suddenly froze, then smoothed out. She didnt relax;rather, the muscles around her eyes and mouth settled into a low idle."Youre right, its not healthy to dwell on that." She squeezed his handbetween her thighs. "Instead of Paris, how about Atlanta?" Guile said brightly. "I met thisguy today, some mentat who watched me do my thing from the observation deck,and we really hit it off afterwards. We ended up having a couple of beers inValhalla while I waited for the acid to come on, and he invited both of us tohis place in Georgia. Nice guy, Blaise something -- Blaise Mapplethorpe." "You had a _beer_ with Blaise Mapplethorpe?" Susan said, sittingstraight up and opening her eyes. "Yeah. So what?" "Do you know who he is, sweetheart?" "No, but I figure anyone who complains that much about Mentat Securitycant be all bad." "Mapplethorpe is the heir apparent to Atlanta." "You mean his dad is the mayor?" "Not the city itself, the banking industry. His family owns -- oh,forget it. Ill show you his dossier later. Wow, beer with Douse. Hes a goodguy to chuck on the arm, baby." "So you want to go?" "I want to feel you inside me," Susan said. "Are you sure?" Guile said, pressing her down on the bed with one hand. "Positive. If worse comes to worst, Ill fake it, but I dont think Illhave to. Fill me up, darling, make me a woman. Ohh, yes. Yes, thats justright." As Guile labored to bring Susan to pleasure, Bruce Madison lost thefight in Schenectady. As his Navigator mourned, Bruce lay dead on the emptyLittle League diamond, his spirit joining the infinite multitude as the demonfled into the night. You think that Helena is summoned here As quickly as the paper spectres were. With witches witchery and ghostly ghost, With changeling dwarfs Im ready at my post; But devils darlings, though one may not flout them, As heroines no one goes mad about them. -- Goethe (again)
The three soldiers called for another bottle of Vodka. "Stolynycha, not thediesel fuel you usually serve." Shouted Dmitri goodnaturedly to the plump, scowling, waitress. "Only the best for our heroes." She sneered. "Come therevolution." Olev said under his breath. This brought a howl of delightedlaughter from his comrades. For hadnt they, the gallant troops of the TulaRegiment, not thwarted the plans of the crazy coup leaders and saved the electedPresident Yeltsin. Thereby preventing the new revolution from ever happening. "Hestayed in this very hotel." Said Micael. "We know, we know. Youve told us adozen times already." Laughed Dmitri, rolling his eyes theatrically. "But hedid! Boris Yeltsin, President of Russia, stayed here. In an ordinary room too!".Protested Micael. "Ok my friend. Ah the Vodka." Dmitri poured a generous slugfor each of his friends then raised his glass. "To Boris." He shouted. "ToBoris." They echoed, downing the Vodka in one, followed by the pink fruit juiceof indeterminate origin. The food may be lousy here, but at least the Vodka wasgood. Outside the windows of the nightclub the twin tannoys of the RailwayStation and Bus Depot blared competing fiercely, in the hot Russian night, withthe roar of the military lorries. The Policemen sitting in the foyer glanced intheir direction, as they slammed their glasses onto the table, then went back totheir talking. "Hey old man." Dmitri shouted at the weatherbeaten figure who satclutching his glass like it may suddenly fly up if he relaxed his vigilance fora second. "Drink a toast with us, for now we will have democracy." "And a Car.""And a refrigerator." Muttered his comrades hopefully. The old man looked acrossat them and said, scornfully. "And what have you brave soldiers done? CapturedBerlin?" Suddenly he cackled manically, his single, snaggled tooth like a rotting signpost in the ploughed, brown, field of his face. "Havent you heard?"Smiled Dmitri, it would take a lot to make him angry tonight. "We have stood bythe President, we have saved the White House. Now we shall all be free. It is aglorious day. And all because of the glorious Tula Regiment
Change of Pace - Mother JuggsAs a change of pace we thought we would let my husband tell youthis one. This goes back about 25 years ago when we first startedtalking about swinging, as like other people we really didnt knowhow to go about it. Well we found a swingers bar that was notthat far from home and over we went, the first two times we justsat a the bar like bumps on a log. It seemed like they didntwant anything to do with us, now my wife (mother juggs) was dressedreal nice with a black see through blouse that showed off her 44Dtits real nice sitting atop her 5 11" frame with a 32 inchwaist and I would get hard just thinking about her. They say thatnumber three can be the magic, here we were sitting at the end ofthe bar having a few drinks and everything was going the same asthe last two times we were there and we were talking about leavingwhen this tall guy came over and started to talk to us, he wasover 6 salt and pepper hair and beard. He said that his wife wasat the end of the bar and he came down to see what kind ofpeople we were, as we talked I thought that I knew him from someplace but couls not seem to place him. I asked him what he workedat, his reply was that he was a retired college teacher, then ithit me he was my cousin who I had not seen in about 20 years.The bartender and the rest of the people around us figured we weregay with all the hugging and laughing. He went down to get hiswife but she would not come back with him because she felt thatbeing related it would be incest. So we exchanged telephone numbersand left. On our way home mother juggs started laughing and when Iasked her what was so funny she told me that last night she hada dream about being fucked by someone that looked just like mycousin. A few days later my cousin called and invited us over tothere house for dinner. When we got there we had dinner and talkedall night long, my cousin fucked mother juggs two times and all Igot was a handfull of my cousins wifes tits she just would not goany further because of the incest hang up. One of us got fuckedby some one different that night and I got fucked and sucked inthe car on the way home. Just thought you might like this. Maybethe next time we can tell you about our trip to Platos Retreat inN.Y.C. By the way all of mother juggs stories are true happens.
Jackie MFMF Jackie With the help of my older sister, Jackie, and two of her boyfriends, I lost my virginity the weekend my folks went to Vegas. I was 18 at the time, and Jackie was a worldly 19. My mom and dad left bright and early one Friday, giving us each 50 and strict instructions to behave ourselves and not to get into any trouble. As our folks pulled out of the driveway, Jackie looked at me and asked, "What have you got planned for the weekend?" I shrugged and told her that Id probably spend all my time in the pool. She gave me one of her sly, secretive smiles and told me that her concept of a good time would begin when Brad and Jeff arrived. I was out by the pool when Brad and Jeff arrived. I knew they were there because I heard Jackie take them into the family room and turn the stereo up full blast. When I went to the kitchen for a glass of cold water, I could hear them downstairs laughing. I also caught a whiff of marijuana coming up through the floor vents. Moving quietly down the stairs, I paused at the top of the steps leading down to the basement. Jackie had left the door slightly ajar and I could hear them talking. "Jeff, youre bogarting that joint!" I heard Jackie say. I tip-toed down the stairs and peered cautiously through the crack in the door. Brad was sitting on the couch watching Jackie dance with Jeff. The two of them were swaying together in the middle of the floor. As I watched, Jackie pressed herself against Jeff, and he kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and ground her hips into his groin. Jeff took hold of the cheeks of her ass and pulled her closer. While he held her ass with his right hand, he ran his left one up her waist and cupped her right breast in his hand. Jackie moaned as Jeff squeezed and fondled her tit. Suddenly Brad yelled, "Hey, you two! You let the doobie go out. Bring it over here and let me light it." Jackie pulled away from Jeff and strolled over to the couch, sitting next to Brad. "How about lighting me instead, Bradley?" Brad reached out his hand and squeezed her tit. Jackie smiled at him and, reaching up, untied the top of her swimsuit. Brad took both breasts in his hands, pushed them together and ran his tongue back and forth from one hard nipple to the other. Jeff sauntered over, sank down next to Jackie and covered her mouth with his. I could see their tongues playing with one another. Brad slowly pulled down Jackies bathing suit and ran his tongue over her belly. She kicked off the bottoms and spread her legs. Brads head moved between her parted thighs, and Jeff lowered his head and started sucking on her nipples. I could feel my knees shaking, and I knew that I was getting really turned-on. Jackie pushed her pussy into Brads face and told him not to stop. Brad stood up suddenly and pulled his swimming trunks off. His stiffened cock stood straight out and, taking it in his hands, he looked at Jackie and told her he wanted to do more than just eat pussy. Jeff moved away as Brad sank back down on the couch and pulled Jackie on top of him. She straddled him and guided his penis to the mouth of her dripping pussy. They humped against one another as he sucked on her breasts. Then Jeff moved up behind Jackie and spread the cheeks of her ass. I closed the door as Jackie screamed out. Upstairs, I stood at the kitchen sink and thought about the three of them down there fucking their brains out. Suddenly, Jeff walked in the kitchen stark naked. He stopped when he saw me but made no attempt to cover himself. He got a glass out of the cupboard and came over to the sink. Jeff filled the glass with water and turned to look at me. He watched me while he drank from the glass, taking in every detail of my body. "You must be Jackies kid sister," he said. I laughed and told him that Jackie was only two years older than me. He smiled and said that he never would have guessed it. "Little sister, Jackie doesnt have any of the soft curves that you do." Then he moved beside me and pressed his lips against mine and ran his tongue over them. I opened my mouth, and our tongues met. Sensing that I wasnt going to stop him, he smiled at me, pulled my suit down around my waist and cupped my breasts. "You have got one gorgeous body, babe." My nipples grew harder, and I trembled in anticipation. Trailing his tongue down my neck, he licked my breast and sucked a nipple into his mouth. He looked up at me and asked if I liked it. In answer, I pushed my tits together with my hands (as I had seen Brad do to Jackie) and asked him to lick them some more. His hands and mouth descended to my tits, and he proceeded to squeeze, fondle, suck, lick, pinch, and caress me for several minutes. Then he trailed his tongue down to my stomach and stopped at my swimsuit. I smiled down at him as he pulled it down slowly over my hips and thighs and let it fall around my ankles. I kicked it away and spread my legs slightly. Jeff lifted me up under the arms and sat me on the edge of the table. He sat in one of the chairs, pulled my legs over his shoulders and started licking the insides of my thighs. I lay back on the table, and my legs fell open wider as his mouth got closer to my trembling twat. Suddenly, he flicked out his tongue and hit my clit. I cried out with pleasure, and he buried his face deeper in my pussy. "Eat me, Jeff," I gasped. I pushed my pussy into his face, and he stuck his tongue up my hole. "Oh yes!" I cried. "That feels so good. Do it!" He continued eating me while I moved my hips back and forth across the table. Jeff stood up and, bending over,rubbed his face over my tits. He took his hard cock into his hands and guided it slightly into my gaping hole. "What now, little sister?" he asked me. "Do you want this, baby?" I groaned and tried to lift my hips to take him into me, but he held me firmly, and I couldnt move. He took the head out and rubbed it over my clit, exciting me all the more. When I think he realized that I couldnt stand it any longer, he pushed his dick way up inside me. I could feel my hymen stretching and finally tearing, and then Jeff was driving his penis in and out of me with slow, sure strokes. I was in a frenzy at this point, and when Jeff took my swollen clit between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed it, I humped against him like a mad woman. "Fuck me!" I panted. Suddenly I felt my orgasm burst over me, and as my pussy muscles clenched in uncontrollable spasms, Jeff cried out and pulled his cock out of me. He rubbed it up and down as he shot his load all over my belly. I rubbed my fingers through his hot sperm and then stroked my tits with his cum. He lay on top of me and kissed my mouth. "Not bad for a virgin," he said. He grinned at me, and we both looked up when we heard Brad say, "Ill say, not bad!" Jeff got up off me as Brad walked into the kitchen. Before I knew what was happening, Brad rolled over on my stomach and entered me from the rear. He slapped me on the ass and told me to move my hips. He fucked me harder than Jeff had, and it hurt a little. Then, suddenly, he pulled apart the cheeks of my ass and plunged his dick up into my bowels. I screamed in agony and tried to pull away from him, but he held me firmly in place and fucked my ass. After the initial pain receded I realized that I liked it, and I started moving my hips against his. Brad drove his cock in and out of my ass, and we both came at the same time, Brad shooting his wad deep into me. "Well, what have we here?" Jackie drawled from the doorway. "If you were going to lose it, you couldnt have chosen two better guys to lose it to, sweetie." Getting down on her hands and knees, she brought their two cock heads together and licked at them. "And I dont mind sharing either." With that, I got down on my knees and helped her lick and suck the guys back to attention. We spent the rest of the weekend in a wild fucking orgy. We tried every position we could think of, and it was the best time Ive ever had. Or... at least, one of the best times Ive ever had.... Thereve been too many to keep an accurate count, anyway.
 |  |
Two girls get in on in front of a room of frat boys
Checkout more thong pics and hardcore sex movies at CollegePartyTime!
Video of college girl fucking her boyfriends best friend
Check outmore thong pics and hardcore sex movies at CollegePartyTime!
Videos of a wild college spin the body orgy
Check outmore thong pics and hardcore sex movies at CollegePartyTime!
Three Gals and a Guy A TRUE LIFE ADVENTURE They say the teen years are the best. Well, this littletidbit is definite conformation of that fact! Its also proof thatthings are seldom as bad as they seem.------------------------------------------------------------------------------ People who knew us called us the Four Muskiteers. Thoseunfortunate enough to know us well called us the Four Sex Perverts! It seemed we always did stuff together. Concerts, crusingthe local MacDonalds, Parties, etc... No matter what the situation,we were a team. Jim, the oldest of our group was 17. He had been held upa year in school and was the only one of us with a car. As a matterof fact, he was the only one of us old enough to drive. Tom, Greg,and Rick (myself), were all 15. All we three had to do was keep Jimsupplied with gas money and a place to go; and it was let the goodtime roll!------------------------------------------------------------------------------- One Friday evening I was unable to get out. I forget now whatthe reason was but it had what I thought tragic results. Jim and the guys had gone to the Mall to get a tape deck forhis car. While there, they spotted these three sexy babes hangingaround Record Mart. As it turned out,