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 Film Fini - 4

   by Feather Touch



   Half-decent-looking electric bike, the eGo, featured on MSN, but both it
and the Segway (featured in "Sunday in the Park") miss the ideal The
Segway's too dangerous, because, with the rider's feet trapped between the
two fenders, he can't helped but being pitched violently on his face in the
event of even a minor mishap.  The eGo is too bike, too get-on-and-ride,
rather than touch and go.  The ideal is a scooter with dual rear wheels, a
postillion, if that's what it's called, to support the rider in a
semi-seated position (as on a stool), and a flat, low floor both for safety
- so legs can be moved to aid in balance - and ease of entry and exit.  The
battery/motor assembly should be mounted at the rear, forming the structure
of the seat.  The floor should house additional batteries.  The concept is
not unlike the Italian Vespa motor scooters, with a hefty battery and
powerful motor replacing the noisy, toxic, temperamental gas engine and
transmission.  Step-on, scoot, step-off.  Someday someone will get it.



   It might be an idea to get this, too.  The future standard light vehicle
power assembly, used in the vast majority of production cars and pickup
trucks.  Two engines, a two hundred horsepower unit and a twenty horsepower
pony engine, or APU.  Both would be of the boxer design, each with six
cylinders for smoothness.  The vehicle would also be equipped with electric
drive to the extent of about ten horse power and a pair of truck batteries.
When in traffic or around town, the vehicle would be powered, depending on
whether or not the a/c was required, with either the battery bank or pony
engine, with the main power plant always available at a press of the
accelerator.  The pony engine would run at a set r.p.m.  (2,100) so that
the alternator, a/c compressor, and other accessories, no longer required
to perform their tasks at "idle," would be far smaller and more efficient
than today's devices.  The two engines would be mounted with the smaller
machine on top, sharing both induction and exhaust systems.  The electric
motors would be fitted to the non-driven wheels, giving a useful
four-wheel-drive capability.  A distinct advantage of such a hybrid would
be an auto-follow mode.  Since the drive train is electric, it could be
wired into a distance-measuring device and set to follow at a nominal
distance behind the vehicle ahead of it at speeds up to five or six miles
per hour.  Sure, more fun than anything Disney's imagineers have come up
with, but think of the savings in tedium and nuisance driving, too.  Just
add in the quantum reduction in fuel consumption and corresponding green
aspects and standardize it by fiat for use across the industry (to get the
price down), and all one can say is "why not?" I keep babbling on about how
you aren't going to make it on your own, how you need a monarch for this
reason and about a thousand thats, so I thought it would be a good idea to
include an actual example of king craft, a la your totally cool American
royal highness.



   Bibliographical notes.  I added "Poster Boys" and "Truckin'-eh" to
ASSTR, which about fills my standing archive unless I want to bring over
the mammoth "One Fish at a Time" and "Stonington Stories," both still on
Nifty.  One of these days.  This leaves a dozen or so titles on N., most
adult/young friends and bi-incest, with "Shady's Closet" under the celeb
heading, and a few under sci-fi/fantasy, including "The Flyyy".  I can't
remember where "Creative Camp," my first published novel, ended up, maybe
bi-camping.  I was about a third of the way into "Blissy's Song" on 9/11,
but David attached it to another novel, maybe "The Tarzan Mushroom
Hunters," so I don't know exactly where it is.  Other titles that come to
mind are: "Dennis the...," "Rebecca," "Ropeyarn," "Santa Fe Stories," and
"Hollywood Stories." These are under a variety of pen names, including my
own, and will reward the diligent searcher with no lesser amounts of fake
nonsense than is to be found in the present story.  And should one amongst
the thousands wish "the complete works" there's a fifty thousand word
addendum to "One Fish..." that is theirs for the asking (doing so will put
you in possession of, to the best of my knowledge, the world's longest
novel), also a Travis McGee piece I decided not to publish even though I
pleased myself greatly in sketching the established hero of the Bahia Mar
(where I actually spent a week of my life).  In all, some 1.3 million
words, no record, unless quality is considered, but it's been less than
three years so I'm in there pitching.  (And what a wonderful time to
suggest you pitch a little relief with a substantive donation to either of
the alternative sites, or both.)



   Horrifically, another election year looms.  A limitless extravaganza
over picking one of two peas from a pod.  Kerry is meant to be some kind of
cousin, hangs out at our family digs on Naushon (see "Poet of Phu Bai"), so
I guess I should have a preference, but if I did it would be for urban Al
who would categorize the job and bring a slobbering manliness to the
office, which might be refreshing after so many boys.



   Al Gore's suicide turn.  A five minute concession speech, irrevocably
withdrawing with light-hearted reference to the ironies of rule by law,
and, as I said at the time, he could have campaigned from Iceland and won
both nomination and the office.  Instead, he sickened us in the tens of
millions with his Jewboy approach, exercising every legality available with
the only thing written down, finitum, being the sitting president's hour of
departure.  The one time he should have been stiff, and he's off like a
goose.  Leaving us with One Book attaching anti-abortion executive orders
to keep his bible belle wife happy.  His sentence, under my administration,
would be to take a dozen of those unwanted and unaffordable children into
his home, sans aux pair.  Watch the pretty lady wilt, for her very will was
kilt, so many mouths and many tears spilt, and she in front to bear the
guilt.  Gore would have been better.  No one out there would be good.  The
only thing they are is identical.  I'll stick with horrific.





   Jesse's story ended aboard the outbound ship so it was his sister's
turn. The afternoon had passed delightfully, my two young hosts outdoing
themselves when it came to the domesticities inherent in catering to a
visitor as well as entertaining the guest.  The hours had passed, and
though something did nag a trifle, being naked with a handsome fourteen
year old and a pixie twelve year old occupied me fully, indeed.  By this
time we were generally experimenting with each other, much left in reserve,
and feeling more like the winners of an extended contract than a lottery
jackpot.



   "You said nothing had happened with boys," Jesse said, prompting Alice.

   "Just with Janice Mackenzie," Alice said, "last week.  In fact, she gave
me a week to tell you, so I'm running out of time."

   "I'll tamper with the clock," Jesse suggested, his sister responding
that it had been an informal demand and a few hours wouldn't matter.

   "It was a dark and stormy night," she began, "and her parents were stuck
in the city.  I'd just dropped by after school for milk and cookies, the
way she does here on alternate afternoons, when the storm hit these parts."



   "I really wanted you to stay overnight, anyway, Alice," her classmate
said as they secured the house against the rising wind and blowing rain.

   "And I was going to ask you to stay over with me, too," her friend
responded as they settled in the living room.

   "Because of what you heard?" the slightly older twelve year asked.

   "Especially, I suppose," Alice replied, "but anyway, too."

   "How do you feel about grownup stuff?" was the hostesses next question.

   "I'm not getting any younger," her friend observed.

   "Well, what you heard, that was pretty big-girl, right?"

   "My first reaction, when Beth told me," the girl said, "was `lucky'
girl."

   "And you're sure that's how you feel, now, staying over with me with
just Cliff and Barbara in the house?"

   "Just a little scared and a wee petrified," Alice replied, "with a case
of the jitters hanging fire."

   "I wouldn't have asked you to stay if you'd been cool and offhand about
it," Janice said, "because it's nothing like that.  I was so scared I'm
still frightened, and Barbara's only nine."

   "But it's Cliff," Alice reminded her friend.

   "I know," Alice whispered, "so imagine doing anything wrong.  Showing,
in the least way, you weren't totally receptive and wanting.  Sisters
aren't meant to want like that, so a girl's burdened with a hierarchy while
trying to engage the passions of a god."

   "Where there is religion there is fear," Alice observed.

   "And where there's a best-friend-in-the-world like you, there's someone
to share it with," Janice responded.  The girls stared into each other's
eyes, burned brighter by the moment, and leaned equally one to the other.
"And I want to share all of it," she whispered, lips inches from the beauty
in front of her, "all the heat and sweat of being with a stag completely
naked and for over an hour." Then their lips met and so Alice's willing
nods sufficed.



   "Was it okay?" Janice asked a few minutes later.  "Tell the truth, I
won't be offended.  It's way normal to just like boys."

   "No," Alice said, "it was beautiful, but I was thinking some of Jesse."

   "That would be way-way normal," her friend responded, adding: "how'd we
end up with Cliff and Jesse?"

   "I guess `cause we read a lot and we're interesting to talk to," the
young visitor noted as her pretty friend nodded in agreement.

   "Do you think we prod them to read more to keep up with us?" the hostess
asked.

   "If I were Cliff I'd do a lot more than sit around flipping pages to
keep up with you," Alice replied.

   "We skip rope, too," Janice said, "and I let him lead by teasing me into
it."

   "Can you tell me everything?" the pretty guest asked, "or is it sort of
secret and private?"

   "More than that," Janice said, "more than tell you.  It's Barbara. 
That's why it's totally crucial you stay tonight, especially with mom and
dad away.  We had a long talk because I didn't want her finding out
sideways, nor did our brother.  She was thrilled and wanted to see what I'd
let Cliff see in the shower."

   "Did you let her?" Alice whispered, her voice husky.

   "I let her bring me up to my room and we jumped rope for a few minutes,
then we did what had happened the night before, only we didn't turn the
water on in the shower because we'd only used the ropes for a couple of
minutes so Barbara would know exactly how it happened."

   "I'd have let her see me, too," Alice said.

   "She asked if I'd ever seen you, too," Alice responded, "and I said no,
because we had different gym classes.  Then she asked me if I wanted to see
you." The beauty didn't say more, just began on the buttons of her friend's
uniform blouse, Alice quickly copying.

   "Here, or up in my room?" Janice whispered as she pulled the tails of
her pretty pig-tailed friend's shirt from her waist.

   "Where are your brother and sister?" Alice asked.

   "They'll be home just after four," the older girl said, "he's picking
her up from practice for the dance-hall recital."

   "Then maybe we have time to do what you and Barbara did," Alice
suggested.  Her friend's eyes glowed in hot appreciation and she nodded
avidly, extending her hands.  The girls stood and pecked each other
nervously on the cheek as they removed their blouses and looked down at
each other, whispering, "hi." Janice led, they stopped for a moment in her
room to shed their shoes and skirts, then set the stage by a few quick
swings of the pair of ropes hanging from the doorknob.



   "We stopped after twenty minutes," Janice said, coming up close behind
her friend.  "I was in my sun suit and he just had on gym shorts.  We'd
both been getting more and more nervous when we were close to each other
and didn't have anything to do or say, and I knew he was too shy to say
anything, too shy and too proper.  Anyhow, I'd had a couple of long talks
with Beth Reynolds, and I kind of understood what was happening, so finally
I thought of an answer."

   "What was it?" Alice whispered, her pretty friend standing inches behind
her.

   "I told Cliff that when I got older it would be really nice if he could
stand really close behind me, and I got in front of him like you're in
front of me, and we could get you and Barbara to swing a two-man rope, and
he could hold me from behind while with jumped in unison."

   Alice closed her eyes for a moment to get the full picture.  "God,
that's so perfect," she finally breathed.  "And Jesse could hold me, when I
start getting big."

   "Cliff needed more convincing," Janice said, "because of the
brother/sister thing."

   "Tell me everything," Alice said, moving the last inches to the leggy
beauty behind her.

   "It was all whispering," Janice responded, "and really sick sounding
because suddenly we both knew it was going to happen and we were yawning
and scared out of our wits.  I finally managed to tell him I was beginning
to grow a little and if he saw how much he'd realize we should make plans
and not just talk about it.  Just our voices let us know we agreed, and
that's when he mentioned your brother, and he even asked me, I mean he
almost couldn't talk he was so shy about it, if I'd let Jesse hold me
sometimes when we were all working out together."

   "What did you say?" Alice whispered, easing her friend's hands to her
bare tummy and pressing firmly back to her.  Janice responded, her hands
tracing up on the twelve year old's heaving chest.

   "That it would be a good idea if we guys dated a lot and got married so
as not to break up the set, and Barbara would be included as chaperone
until we set up housekeeping, and then babysitter should she have been
indecisive in her first role, therefore, I'd like it if he'd bring Jesse
over sometime, and exercising together would be a good lead-in to the news,
so to speak."

   "Will you care whose baby it is?" Alice asked, stretching her slim arms
back behind her classmate's neck and arching for the roaming fingers of the
beauty.

   "No," Janice answered, "what I care about is having it young.  What else
is there out there?  Why not stay home and read with an eight pound
entertainment center?  What if they have it all wrong; marriage and that
nine yards; what if the best thing is for girls from solvent backgrounds is
to have a child as soon as they were able; perhaps even a daughter/sister
or daughter/granddaughter?  Everyone makes a big issue out of the practical
side of it, but what if the family wants another kid?  Since that's the
entire argument, isn't the argument negated, especially in an age where we
can have daughters, if we chose, on the first go-`round, thus perpetuating
more extensive interest in the developing child?"

   "We're solvent, too," Alice purred in response.  "Dad makes tons.  We
could afford triplets."

   "Whose do you want?" Janice asked, "my brother's or yours."

   "Jesse's," Alice replied, "but only by an inch.  It would be vaguely
neat to have a daughter/niece."

   "And how old would you want her to be before you started leaving her
alone with one of the males," the young hostess whispered.

   "Maybe five," her friend replied.  "In fact, I can't picture myself at
an age when I wouldn't have like Jesse to touch me and sleep with me."

   "Same here," Janice noted, "so five it is, then."

   "Maybe," Alice mused, "by that time it will be considered child abuse
not to let father or brothers bathe with girls starting at three and a
half."

   "I don't know," Janice responded, "we're dead dogs when it comes to
liberating our Muslim sisters from unspeakable bondage, so pursuing
greatness in our own behalf might be a stretch."

   "In that case we'll have to let the desert sweeten the oasis," Alice
noted, "and share the forbidden of the bad girl in secret."

   "Incestuous sluts rabid for the sperm of hell," Janice added.

   "And we can, too," her friend whispered back, "the five of us, at first,
breaking rules as if they were the pretzels they so often resemble, and
then, guess what?"

   "What." the breathless girl in back panted.

   "Our sweet, gentle, and way cute dads, that's what," came the answer,
"and we put it to them thus: give in, mate with us, or we'll date ball
players."



   "The line of scrimmage versus eternal damnation," Janice mused aloud,
"but it's almost too obvious to serve as a storyline: the girl who goes the
yardage ends up tackled and disabled, while the sweet thing who stays home
with daddy lives happily ever after, well rested and fit to resist any
ill-humor of ye gods."

   "You know what I want to see?" Alice asked, totally satisfied with the
lingering touches of her friend tracing ever closer to her bulging training
bra, and wanting to extend the interlude before they stood, forehead
against forehead, as their fingers exposed each other in a slow and
feminine dance.

   "What." Janice said.

   "We're all together at a resort.  I want to see you walk off with both
our dads and both our brothers, and watch you all the way down the balcony
over the pool, until you pause at the door and then enter a room."

   "Will you wait outside the door?" Janice whispered.

   "Will you let my kiss you - everywhere - if I do?" the precious guest
asked in turn.

   "Totally," her friend agreed.

   "Then," Alice intone, "be it know by all present that Slut Families,
International, a not-for-profit corporation, is hereby established in
recognition of the rights of children to love those they love and bear a
love child at the earliest possible age."

   "That sounds way profitable to me," her friend responded.



   Both girls were silent for several minutes, a reverie finally broken by
the visiting girl.  "God," she sighed, "it must have been so amazing to
have his big, powerful body behind you while this was happening, to feel
the power in him and what he was going to do with you."

   "You'll know soon enough," Janice whispered back, "but just be sure to
wait for really, really the right time; when you have hours together so it
can happen again and again, not so you get used to it, but so you get
comfortable with the feeling you never will, that every time you give each
other a certain look or certain touch, you'll be off the planet, and very
possibly pregnant when you alight back on Earth."

   "It just makes me worry about lightning and runaway busses," the guest
said, "of not living until it happens, by some fluke, some special ethereal
mechanism specifically designed to prevent perfection."

   "I thought the same," Janice whispered, "and that was just between here
and the shower; that showing him was so much of everything at once if it
was real I wouldn't live to experience it."

   "Are you really beautiful?" Alice asked.

   "Yes," the other preteen said, "are you?" The willowy child nodded in
her friend's arms, then lowered her own, turning so they faced each other.
Gazing into each other's eyes, they moved from the room, retracing Janice's
last steps as a virgin, and stepped into the dry shower.

   "Are you sure, sis," Janice whispered, play Cliff for Alice.

   "For about ten years now," the other girl said, playing her friend.

   "And it can be for just working out," the "boy" husked, "because it does
make sense, and there's nothing unusual about doubles when it comes to
jumping-rope."

   "An Ace bandage would work for that," the girl replied, "but I'm in love
with a six-two athletic brother, so I thought I'd at least ask."

   "And I'm in love with a sprite too beautiful to believe," the girl said
to her guest, quoting Cliff, "so I was hoping you would, even though I
didn't want to say anything."

   "Where we're going," Alice played along, "they hang folks for gallantry
like that, and if you try it with our daughter, it'll be Katy call the
mortician."



   Their hands traced each other's cheeks and lingered as they caressed
down the slim necks.  The tile shower echoed their light panting and
whispers.

   "You're the third one," Janice said as Alice's fingers began straying
down from her shoulders, "Cliff and Barbara, because I'm kinda modest in
gym and put it on while my back is turned."

   "And you still have your dad to show," her friend whispered, hissing
audibly at the effect of her words on her young lover's pubescent breasts,
her own swelling immediately in total sympathy.  They'd never be more
beautiful and both sensed it, quickly baring her mate and staring
alternately between quarter-sized mounds, almost identical, and jutting
pink nipples

   "He touched me in a special way," Janice said, "where he's most
sensitive against where a girl is second most sensitive."

   "He had to kneel down?" Alice asked to be sure she had the fantasy image
of the tall athlete making the most sensual possible contact with the
blossoming seventh grader.

   "Just a little," the beauty said as the girls stood, hands at their
sides, electrifying themselves, "because he leaned back against the wall
and spread his legs really wide, the way I did later when he took me in on
the bed, so I had to lean over so it would be perfect."

   The age-mates had no such issue being within an inch of each other so
the continued standing and whispering, hands at their sides.  "Where?"
Alice asked, and Janice pointed to her left breast.  Carefully the girls
moved, and an inch at a time they came together, one jutting left nipple
finally massaging gently against its mate as the girls panted and quaked at
their first openly lesbian touch.

   "Show me everything, like you showed Barbara," Alice said after several
minutes of their standing rigidly still.

   "It was from behind, after we touched," Janice responded, "his penis
against my back and his hands all over me while I linked my fingers behind
his neck and stood on my tiptoes." To inject an inappropriate note of
levity, what happened next would not have been possible on the floor of a
wet shower, either girl might have done herself an injury so alertly did
Alice respond to Janice's description of being taken in hand by her
powerful, athletic brother.  Now bare-chested, the two reprised their
pre-shower ritual.



   "I meant to say, before," Alice whispered in the echoing stall, "when I
was talking about how Cliff must have felt behind you, that you feel
beautiful behind me.  You're slim, you're delicate, and muscular, which is
way sexy, and your breasts feel as beautiful as they would to any boy."



   Janice didn't have time to reply because a car turned in from the street
and parked close to the front door, two figures dashing through the rain
and onto the porch.  Janice quickly escorted her guest back to her bedroom
and the two girls slipped out of their panties and following the hostess's
lead, slipped under the bed, taking a pair of throw pillows so they could
like comfortably back from the edge and still see the full-length mirror
which adorned Janice's closet.



   "Oldest girl gets the biggest room," the hostess explained as the naked
girls got comfortable, not difficult on the thick, wool carpeting, "so this
is workout headquarters." Indeed, such did seem to be the case for in a
minute the seventeen year old swimmer and nine year old dancer entered, he
still in his gym shorts, she still in her leotard.

   "Kind of weird to be doing this after we've already had enough working
out for an army platoon," Cliff said.

   "Well," his sister replied, "it's my first time doing it alone with you,
so I wanted to do at least a few minutes while I think of what to say."

   "That'll help me, too," Cliff said, his voice slightly husky.  In the
mirror the girls could see the two look at each other, she up, he down, and
hold the gaze for several moments.  Then they retrieved the ropes from the
doorknob and began a workout that was freakin' letter perfect to be
mistaken for other sounds of avid exercise.



   "So far it's perfect," Janice said as the girls took advantage of the
interlude to whisper and kiss, "I wanted to talk to him about Beth and had
to stall to think what to say, and his voice was the same, and we looked at
each other to say yes without any words."

   "She's beautiful in her dance costume," Alice whispered back, "and I've
never seen Cliff without a shirt, which is a pretty a-word sight."

   "And we'll be able to see them perfectly in the mirror," Janice
responded as the two gripped each other's hands excitedly.  They whispered
for another few minutes, then the young athletes came to a stop and
returned their ropes to the doorknob.



   "Do you want to stay here with me or go back to your own room and change
or something," the gentle brother whispered.

   "I want to stay," Barbara replied, her voice rasping and husky.

   "Do you want to talk for awhile?" the boy whispered.

   "Yes," Barbara nodded, "while you get me ready."

   "Okay," Cliff said, "but remember, the door isn't locked and if sis
comes home from Alice's her note says she's going to study in the den."

   "That's on purpose for us," the dainty girl said, "because last night
while you were at late practice she told me everything, and we even went in
the shower together and I pretended I was you and she showed me everything,
and about Beth, and what happened when you came back in here, and also
about Jesse and Alice and how we can have a workout club with the five of
us."

   "And?" the teen whispered.

   "We won't be the Lone Rangers," the pixie replied, "because an
industrialized culture needs some contact with the human side of things, or
words to that effect, and the only option left is a non-derivative familial
paradigm, since what's being handed down now isn't worth shit.  The issue
of the day should revolve around girls staying sleek enough to attract the
interest of equally slim brothers and fathers, not locking people up in
some Looney Tune, hit or miss response to an ugly and insatiably greedy
morality.  Teach us to read, and let us be sluts of the universe to
handsome brothers and their handsome friends."

   The little girl wasn't angry, just a kid who'd reached herself in life
and was happy to have been thither guided by a glowingly beautiful older
sister who'd left no doubt in her exceedingly bright young mind exactly
what she wanted.  She faced her tall brother, and looking up at him shyly,
rather than boldly, pulled her Danceskin down to her waist.  Cliff knelt in
front of her, his hands moving to her delicate chest and fondling her as
she moved to him.

   "She's beautiful, isn't she," the teen whispered.

   "Very," the girl answered, "and especially when she kind of showed me
how you first touched her in the shower."

   "I'd like to touch you a different way," Cliff whispered, "with you
lying naked on your back with a pillow under your hips and me kneeling
between your legs, then moving over you until we're in position, then move
forward until I'm against you."

   "Can my head be on a pillow, too," the nine year old asked, "so I can
see everything?"

   "Yes," the male said, his hands running down the flanks of his panting
kid sister as he stripped her naked, then stood while she removed his gym
shorts and athletic supporter, whispering inaudibly at the long, hard
erection jutting high from his muscular lower belly.  Barbara turned to the
bed and while her brother molested from behind, arranged the two pillows,
then let the male pick her up and lie her back, her eyes glazed as she
watched his move slowly between her legs and bend over her.  His corded
arms were trunks of a tree, his sweating, heaving chest an approaching
storm, his fully adult penis John Wayne ahead a cavalry of half a million.
Instinctively not wanting to confuse the feelings of him, she stretched her
slim arms high above her chest and lifted her thighs to his incestuous
approach.  With lingering care they managed a perfect first union, but
gasping at the heat and wetness of their panting partner.  Cliff buried
himself in the lolling, hissing little girl a half inch at a time,
thrusting gently for almost a minute, before succumbing to her urging and
holding himself hot and rigid for her mewing thrusts.



   Alice and her young hostess had a better than perfect view.  the tall,
near adult between the splayed little-girl legs, the gentle contractions of
the powerful muscles of his lower back as he spent gentle minute after
gentle minute carefully mating his swimmer's thighs with those of the
petite dancer.  "Was he that gentle with you," Alice whispered softly to
her friend as they lay on their stomachs, chins on the throw pillows,
watching the male now rigid and still over the waifish child.

   "Jesse will be the same with you," was the answer, "that's why you want
to be sure you have lots of time, because the feeling gets better and
better and if you can go slowly it catches up with you and suddenly you're
a girl, maybe even kind of a woman, and something primal happens and your
whole body suddenly says nothing but `yes' and `more.' It's kind of like
sneaking up on the f-word," the whispered explanation continued, "if you
try to hurry or take a shortcut by yield to any of a million strong
impulses, then it would be over in a fast, hot rush, but if you sneak up
very carefully and slowly, then the dangerous part is over and you can be a
girl all you want and the boy will stay with you."



   As if on cue, there was a slight motion to the bed above the girls lying
half on top of each other, their hands seeming unable to get enough of each
other's budding breasts.  Then it became distinct, and, as Barbara passed
from the danger zone to being a girl, the bed began a rhythmic squeaking
that quickly gained in volume.  In the mirror, the athlete was now moving
hard and fast over the lolling girl beneath him.  Barbara's hands moved to
the male's shoulders as her slim legs encircled the powerful waist of her
stallion, then down along his flanks, and, when he rose so they could look
down between themselves, to his heaving chest.

   "Now I know why they call it that," Alice whispered to Janice, and
indeed the sound of a young male mating with an avid female had auditory
attributes that explained a lot.

   "Once you reach this stage," Janice said, "and are safely in f
territory, to be crude about it, it lasts for twenty or thirty minutes,
which is why all the cautionary notes on your being sure it's just right
for you and Jesse."



   By now the bed could have been heard anywhere in the house, and, yes, it
went on and on, the little girl's tiny hands all over the male coaxing and
welcoming as she thrust inexhaustibly from her pillow to meet his totally
adult behavior with her.  "I'm picturing you there with my dad," Alice
whispered and the girls were able to respond wantonly to their future,
heedless of being overheard - as if it would have mattered - by the couple
on the bed.

   "Listen," Janice hushed her friend's whispering, "you can tell we're
sisters and maybe even Cliff's our brother, because she's making the same
noises I did when I started to lose control, when I suddenly became happy
as a big girl and wanted nothing more in the world than to make him happy
at being a boy teaching his loving kid sister.  I knew he'd never boast
about making me cum, but that in some special way he'd feel terrific if it
happened our first time, and then I started sounding like Barbara, and a
minute later I had a very proud brother gazing tenderly down into my
big-girl eyes."

   Both girls hushed.  Barbara's moans increased in pitch, then the little
girl was hissing her brother's name, their hard rhythm ceasing while the
bed shuddered and quaked to the flailing body of the gasping little girl.
Almost silence, almost a minute.

   "Did you sperm while it was happening?" came a small, shy whisper.

   "No, darling," the mature teen said, "that happened while we both lay
very still together."

   "Looking into her eyes?" the small voice asked.

   "Yes," the boy replied.

   "Can a girl feel it?" the young beauty asked.

   "Janice did," Cliff said, "at first she was pretty shocked because it
was kind of violent, but after awhile she looked more sleepy and happy. 
All that lightning that didn't strike, maybe."

   "Or knowing now there was no way on earth she could die without her
beautiful brother being a part of her," the girl mused.

   "If you weren't being, you know, like a stallion with her," the girl
asked after a minute during which a slight motion could be sensed by the
girls under the bed, "how did she make you cum, that's what the girls at
school call it."

   "We talked about growing up together," Cliff whispered, "about Alice and
Jesse and what it would be like to be really honest with them and see if
they had the same feelings, then she started quizzing me about you and how
I thought your body would feel underneath me, and what it would be like to
be inside a nine year old and all of a sudden I was spraying in her before
either one of us even knew it."



   For long, long moments the bed simply shuddered, then the quaking young
bodies stilled.  Their breathing eased as time passed but no whispering was
overheard by the hidden voyeurs, no sighs, not mews of "awesome" or "baby."
A minute or two more and the bed creaked to studious movement, four feet
appeared, and, hand and hand, brother and sister quietly left their
sister's bedroom, naked because they were headed for the shower.



   It was getting late.  Something yet nagged but we got involved, all
naked now, in setting up candles in Alice's room and furnishing her bed
with pillows and a garland of flowers her brother had fashioned before he'd
begun the art of penning a heart in four colors on her delicate white
shoulder.  With Jesse's story of Leif and subsequent characters and his
sister's account of the nearby neighbors, the three of us had had about as
much foreplay as is safely tolerated.  We males were hugely erect, Jesse so
big for a mid teen, at nearly seven inches, circumcised, by eye
measurement, I quizzed the boy about his time with his friend from the
river, this as an adjunct to a pet theory of mine concerning excess
hormones, in other words, those not produced by one's own body, and
development of both male and female as a result of such excesses.  Jesse
admitted Leif had ejaculated in his mouth a number of times over the week
he'd camped by the loch, so his adult appearance fit with my unscientific
notion.



   For all the spicy territory covered over the evening hours, one thrill
had been omitted and Jesse whispered to me about it while we were setting
up the candles.  "I'd like her to see it happen," he said, blushing shyly,
"if you'll let me touch you.  On her chest.  I loved that with Leif, and I
want Alice to experience it, if you'll let me."



   I just nodded.  I was no nineteen year old, but I'd been on a fairly
hectic go for the preceding week, and so hadn't had thought to indulge in
anything.  Add several hours of erotic story telling and images of the
handsome fourteen year old on his knees before his tall Norwegian partner,
his throat pumping rhythmically, and, well, not to put too fine a point on
it, maybe I'd do in a pinch.



   Brother lay kid sister out for me, her legs together, and guided me over
her until I was kneeling on her thighs, bending forward and bracing myself
on the headboard.  He took me like a man usually takes a boy, his left arm
tight around my chest, his left hand fondling me until it settled into a
steady and experienced stroking.  Alice was a picture, staring up at us,
her face intent, her pretty braids making her look very little-girl.  As I
said, the foreplay had been about as complete as it gets, and the boy's
solid chest panting against my back as his hand took me as it must have
Leif, several times, were sensual in their own right.  His hard penis
thrust firmly against me; I'd never been mounted, and had actually fooled
around very little, books and expertise, notwithstanding, so I could hardly
help infer, from his urgency against me and his hot breath on my right
shoulder, that once beautiful Alice was sound asleep I might let him be a
boy with me all he wanted, and, god, what if Leif had been successful with
him and he wanted that to happen with me?  In all events, nice girl, pretty
girl, slim girl, good stories, handsome brother, more good stories, strong
arm, hard hand, hot breath, well, the psychological ducks were in a perfect
row, the girl's eyes were huge, her pretty breasts sweaty and rising and
falling like a bellows, and the totality made me cum like a beast.



   Alice's response was a hiss to her brother to look, and the boy did,
experienced enough with the athletic Norwegian to run his hand to my base,
gripping me with maybe half his strength and holding me against the twelve
year old's breasts, moving me all around her chest as it went on and on,
half feeling like I was watching a stranger, the kind one keeps on studded
chain, like a big gorilla or something.  Never anything like it, and she
was in a bare minute slicked and glistening beyond belief.  I moved from
Alice as she lay back, her eyes huge as she looked down over her wet
breasts and belly, and helped her now even more swollen brother between her
now widely spread legs.  He fondled his sister's inner thighs as I huddled
over him from behind, guiding him until the child's thrusts met him and
they both froze in shock.  Palpable with all of us was Janice's advise to
both Alice and Barbara, trying to subdue the frenzy of novelty, the
sucking, massaging heat, until it could really happen between the male and
the female.  This to say it was lingering and deliberate, Jesse whispering
encouragement to me to restrain him with the girl nodding in accordance
while her hands pulled at his flanks and her legs went around both of us,
her heels urging her brother forward as avidly as her eyes.



   We survived.  In ten minutes he was high between her thighs and in
another couple he nodded and whispered he was okay so I could fully release
his bone hard penis.  My hand lingered just a few moments more so I could
feel them come fully together, then, sure he really was in control - how, I
hadn't the vaguest idea on Earth - I felt it was okay to go for the camera.




   "If you want to practice being married, you can call me Cliff," Jesse
said.

   "And his daddy, Daddy," the beauty panted as both youngsters
experimented with moving their slick chests against each other.

   "Think how it will be," the powerful brother responded, now fully in the
missionary position, the waif huddled in his arms and beginning to respond
to her welcoming hips, "to hear Barbara whisper that."

   H'mm, interesting how leaving out a parade of ball players enhances
certain conversations.  There were five of them on the bed, swirling in
each other's minds, each cherished and valued, and it was a case of less
being more, a finite number, all beauty and no strangers until Alice or
Janice took quiet leaves from school and returned for the following year
with a new daughter in either or both families.



   She became a big girl before my eyes, the change from experimental to
for real as evident in her eyes and expression as changing slides in a
projector.  Flick from intense concentration, the student, to a magna cum
laude, a totality that softened her and made her brother grunt in response
as he began moving fully to her.  The ultimate green light.  I fondled them
both as they mated, Alice's hand sometimes reaching to pull me back should
I retreat.  Both of them so muscular.  Wet with perspiration and the teen
flood of semen the now openly panting male had coaxed from me.  Her nipples
on fire against him, and his powerful rise high on his arms so they could
both look down at his adult hugeness obviously extremely capable of leaving
her with child.



   Holding the Canon in my left hand, I quickly jerked off on their flanks,
cumming fast and hard, then again huddled over Jesse and molested him as he
began the long, full rape of his mewing kid sister.  In minutes I clearly
detected a whitening of the child's knuckles as she clawed at her
stallion's powerful back and I move the camera to catch her face.  She
climaxed from her brother with a stuttering wail, crying out both Cliff and
Daddy, then lolled inertly for long moments before the big-girl looked
returned to her eyes and her hands went to Jesse's face to toy with the
lank hair plastering his forehead.

   "Did you cum inside me?" she whispered.

   "No, darling," he replied.

   They slowed and she kept staring.  "You can be a little proud, you
know," Alice smiled shyly

   "Most in the world I want to be looking into your eyes when it happens,"
the boy whispered.

   "And more than that, I want to do the same," the girl said.

   "I loved it when you called me daddy," the boy rasped.

   "I felt you swell up," the twelve year old said, still running her
fingers over the handsome face glowing over her.

   "It'll just be so amazing for him," he responded, "and for Cliff.  To
feel you this way, and to know you want a baby."

   "And I know how to get one," the girl said with her small smile, "all I
have to do is have you hold me very tight against you while I whisper one
word."

   "I can't think of a word that wouldn't do that," the fourteen year old
husked.

   "Then best," his sister said, "because the word is `Barbara.'"



   Even forewarned, the child didn't know what she was getting in for.  Her
eyes flew open in childish alarm and she squealed aloud, for half a second
almost pushing the monster from her, then her senses came pounding home and
she yelped his name, trailing off into moans of: "my brother, my brother,"
each time she felt the athletic beauty inseminate her.



   He covered her and caressed her until she fell quietly asleep, eased his
hand from hers, and stood from his sister's bed, displaying openly for me.
Taking my hand he led me to his room where he had me play Leif's role in
mounting him, and then spending half an hour, with me being him, as he led
me to feel the same hot pulse that had so shocked all three girls.  In the
end, he showed me to the guest bedroom to my great relief, because things
are things and sleeping with boys isn't one of those things.



   Now I've gone and set myself something of a row to how, vis-à-vis the
ending of my first night in the Highlands village.  The sun woke us more or
less together at around eight the next morning.  The phone rang and things
were settled on the parental front, my presence announced.  While the kids
dealt with breakfast, I decided to stroll about the neighborhood and pick
up some groceries and any little hunk of software that might catch my eye.
I opened the door and stepped out onto the flag stones.  Trusty and now
rusty, there was the Konica, loyally rigid at attention on its tripod,
still dripping from the night's rain.  I was horrified - knew something had
been nagging at me - but all was not lost, and on two counts.  First, it
gave me a title for my Highland's story, and, second, as I looked up from
the ruined camera and out the gate, came a teen, a preteen, and a pert
pixie.



   Film Fini

   THE END

   Posted by Thomas@btl.net

   xxx