Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 211
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Private Places
Chapter Five
I glanced back at the chieftain. Amidst the dust from our jeep he
was hollaring to his people. As I watched, they surged into the plantation
house.
ÒI wish youÕd have reminded them to wipe their feet,Ó mistress said
to the governor.
ÒWe will have three less Americans in our country by nightfall,Ó the
governor smirked. I shivered a moment, then realized he was not speaking
of us. There must have been other Americans in the house, I thought,
prisoners like ourselves, but DEA agents? Sam turned. I saw he was
thinking of being a hero somehow. Jill put a hand softly to his groin, held
him. There was nothing we could do. Their fate was sealed, whoever they
were, with the guards following us, the governor in front, a pistol
strapped on. This was no movie. No heroics on SamÕs part could save our
fellow prisoners back there, in the plantation house, from their fate.
SamÕs muscles slackened. He turned and faced forward again. I could see
he was dejected. He did not like seeing badness triumph over good. I
dropped my face to his stomach. It was hard, uncompromising, heroic. I
joined my hand to JillÕs in caressing his bulging jeans.
ÒPlease, please,Ó I begged him. He let us win him over. He did
nothing, sitting forlornly as we travelled into the depths of the jungle, the
temple complex soon gone in the foliage behind us, unfindable even, if you
did not know the way. As the general chose between rutted roads in the
jungle I breathed easier. Now Sam would not even be able to find the
temple, I realized. We became lost in the Amazon forest, the governor our
only hope of ever escaping, and we (even Sam) were forced to accept his
sardonic mastery over us. I sat up at last, Jill too, and we endured the
governorÕs frequent glances at our bouncing boobies in our thin little
shirts.
Chapter Six
The surface of the swimming pool was a sea of wavelets, each
competing with the other, each the result of all the adults and children
cavorting within its tiled walls. Summer was here, with its deep, lush
heat. I lay upon my tummy on a chaise lounge. Wickedly IÕd thrust my
wrists through the waistband of my swim panties. Boys, younger than me,
would pause a moment in their cavorting, stare with unsure eyes, then
resume their playing, a little less innocent, I think, and not a computer in
sight. Just their own minds, wired by God, inspired by me with my plump,
curvacious 13-year-old bottom, already experienced, tested. It was wet
from the pool. I let my thighs lie apart a little to give them a view of
myself. My cunny nestled like a small plum twixt my legs, the split
visible. I wore a Ôlingerie styleÕ swimsuit, newly in fashion. They looked
just the same as an ordinary one, with a simple exception. The protective
gusset, the extra layer of padding over the girlÕs sex was missing. There
was only a slim continuation of my panties down thru my thighs, front to
back, with nothing to save me from the prying stares of men and boys. The
sides of my swimsuit were tied up in bows, of course. No elastic for me,
please. Tug on my bows in the pool, boys, and IÕll be your victim, naked
suddenly, and youÕll be in such trouble! Will your mom paddle you for
Ôundoing that girlÕs swimsuitÕ? Ah, but youÕd thought it had some elastic,
didnÕt you? That the bows were just decorative, sewn on after the fact.
And for the first time in your life, having tugged the bows of other little
girlÕs suits, youÕd find that this girlÕs panties could actually be undone!
A 3-year-old boy, still confident in his toddlerhood, approached me.
He did not suffer under the preteen anxieties of his older brothers.
ÒVROOOM!Ó he announced, and ran his dumptruck right up my leg.
ÒEeeek!Ó I cried. I turned, my hands were caught in my panties, self-
imprisoned. The boy completed his task by backing his dumptruck onto my
butt and raising its bed, dumping a clump of mud on my heinie.
ÒHo! Ho! It looks like doo-doo!Ó the boysÕ brothers chortled. The 3-
year-old erupted in laughter along with them.
ÒBoys! Please donÕt bother us, weÕre sunbathing!Ó Jill told them,
smiling. She reached down and, with a cocktail napkin, carefully scraped
the mud from my ass. ÒHereÕs your load back,Ó Jill told the 3-year-old.
ÒPlease deposit it elsewhere.Ó
ÒHokay,Ó the 3-year-old replied, reaching out with his infant hands
and repossessing the mud.
ÒHaw! You just picked up doo-doo!Ó the boyÕs older brothers laughed
at him.
ÒWah!Ó the 3-year-old, suddenly insulted, invited his motherÕs
attention.
ÒHoney, whatÕs the matter?Ó mama, diverted from some gossipy
conversation in the shallow end of the pool, queried.
The boys took off, the brothers jostling their younger sibling and
taking him to his mommie.
I went back to my snoozing, drying in the sun.
ÒInvasion of the proletariat,Ó Jill said to me. She went back to
reading her Cosmo.
ÒHmmm?Ó I asked, sleepily. I was back in my daydreams again,
feeling my back dry under the sun. Sam rose from the pool, sauntered over.
He dumped a mouthful of cold pool water onto my fanny, hitting me right
where my legs met.
ÒAaack!Ó I cried out anew, violated again!
ÒHi kids,Ó a womanÕs voice said easily. In looking up I saw a
conservative woman, about 30, fully dressed in business attire. She
settled into an empty chair beside me. Jill stood up and let Sam sit down
in her chair, then settled onto his lap. Slyly she ran a quick finger over
his groin. It was one of the best at the pool, filling his briefs to bursting,
despite not being aroused. I think it woke up a little when she touched it.
Fortunately she was mostly blocking the view of the other bathers, her
legs across SamÕs.
ÒYou three are such a pair!Ó the woman said. I knew her as Emily.
WeÕd lunched with her twice, gone dancing a few times. SheÕd promised to
have us over for dinner. ÒReally, IÕve been thinking,Ó Emily said. She
owned a business conglomerate, into lots of things, started by her father.
He was dead now. She took out a Virginia Slims and poked it into the end
of a cigarette holder. She lit it herself, not asking for help. Sam liked to
smoke sometimes. He was rummaging in JillÕs purse for a lighter, just to
be gentlemanly, but Emily showed no interest in dated chivalry. She was a
thoroughly modern woman, controlling her own affairs, opening her own
doors, lighting her own cigarettes. I trifling gesture, but it showed she
bowed to no man, not even Sam, not even just to let him please her in
front of his wife. She could have teased Jill, letting Sam light the
cigarette for her, implying a little hint of unfaithfulness. Sam would have
fallen for it, of course. He was most gracious, always looking out for his
wife, me, other ladies.
ÒWhy donÕt you three get married?Ó Emily asked suddenly. Talk
about popping the question! I was in love with Sam but, except for our few
excursions together, weÕd never shared intimacies in the condo. Somehow
it had seemed, perhaps, Ôtoo close to home.Õ Now Emily was suggesting a
change to all that. I felt a shiver run up my spine. Surely she was just
jesting? We spent a lot of time together, sure, the three of us, but Jill
and Sam were already married and wasnÕt bigamy illegal? My bottom
quivered. I could still feel, in my mind at least, the whipmasterÕs hand on
it in the jungle, wielding his weapon.
ÒWeÕre already married, didnÕt you know that?Ó Jill asked Emily. Her
eyes danced, as if saying, ÔWhy, what a silly question! CanÕt you see my
ring?Õ
ÒJust for fun,Ó Emily answered. She looked down at me, back at
them. ÒYou do believe in fun, donÕt you?Ó
ÒWell, yes, but-Ó Jill began.
ÒSam, you wonÕt mind,Ó Emily said. Her eyes darted meaningfully to
his trunks. She could see what the others could not. His cockhead was
impressing itself most distinctly into the nylon. I hoped the little boys
didnÕt come back. ÒIt will be a three-way marriage, all three of you,
getting married at once, together, on the same day. IÕll pay for it. It
would be a pleasant diversion, I think, and quite proper, since youÕre such
friends. And IÕll provide the bridal bed too, and the gowns, and people to
be your bridesmaids and bridegrooms.Ó
ÒYou mean, in front of...Ó Jill began, her voice trailing off. I saw her
glance around. Was anybody at the pool hearing this? A woman seemed
absorbed in the National Enquirer nearby, a man sat intently reading
PortnoyÕs Complaint.
ÒYes, some of your friends, and some of mine, but people you donÕt
know too, making it more fun, IÕm sure. ItÕs settled then. Sam, please
restrain yourself! I can see you approve just by the, ah, presence of your
ambition,Ó Emily finished, seeing that she might indeed be overheard as
the woman with the newspaper looked up, and at us. ÒYou will both have
to be measured for it,Ó Emily said to Jill, glancing once at me, as if I were
an afterthought.
ÒI have no idea that IÕm going to go through with such a thing!Ó Jill
whispered loud as she could, but hoping nobody would overhear.
Sam looked up at his wife. He put a finger under her chin, making her
raise her face. ÒOpen your mouth,Ó he said. She glanced down once at him,
refused. ÒOpen your mouth, say ahhh,Ó Sam told her again.
Jill parted her lips. ÒWider,Ó Sam ordered her. She opened her
mouth more. ÒA nice pair of teeth,Ó he said. ÒAll wives should have good
teeth. Hmmm, the tits. Yes, I think I approve of those too.Ó
ÒSam!Ó Jill scolded. He hefted one, feeling its weight. She brushed
his hand away as the man with the book took an interest in us. He gazed at
us, as did the woman.
ÒWives must be obedient to their husbands,Ó Sam said. ÒYou agreed
to that on our wedding night, and IÕm holding you to it.Ó
ÒNow, about the prenuptial period,Ó Emily continued. ÒThere must
not be any prior, shall we say, Ôarrangements.Õ I want you all to be on your
best behavior between now and your wedding day. IÕll try to schedule it as
soon as possible, of course. I understand human nature.Ó She stood up.
ÒJill, may I see your hand, please?Ó Jill, a confused look on her face, held
out her left hand, just by chance, I think, given what happened next.
ÒThankyou,Ó Emily said, and slipped JillÕs wedding band from her
third finger. She left her diamond engagement ring behind, letting Jill
keep it. ÒYouÕre just engaged now, my dear,Ó Emily smiled. Her eyes
turned to Sam. ÒI hope you arenÕt kept up at night thinking about your
brides to be,Ó she teased. ÒThen again, given how ÔupÕ you are already, I
must say IÕll sleep uneasily tonight, knowing thereÕs such a Ôstand upÕ guy
around, lying by himself, stiffly attentive to his impending brideÕs needs.
Give me your ring, young man, and do keep to the couch tonight, okay?Ó
Reluctantly Sam held out his hand. ÒDonÕt worry, youÕll get it back!Ó
Emily laughed, taking his ring. ÒIn fact, I could give you two at your
wedding, one for your finger and one for your organ.Ó
ÒAll weddings do need an organ,Ó Sam answered, clearly enthralled
by this mysterious womanÕs sexual frankness. IÕd pulled my hands from
my swimsuit, rolled on my back, and lay retying my loosened bows. She
leaned over me, her heavy breasts pendant, held within her blouse and bra
yet full of obvious promise. I wanted to reach open and liberate them,
just to embarrass her as she was embarrassing us. Instead I lay quietly,
feeling imposed upon as they hung over me.
Still stooping, Emily put a finger into my navel. She kept her eyes,
however, on Sam. ÒShe is liberated?Ó she asked him.
ÒVaginally, anally too, she says, though IÕve yet to be given my
chance,Ó Sam answered.
ÒWhat?!Ó Emily asked. ÒSuch prudes you three are, but itÕll make it
all the more exciting!Ó She stroked my belly once, then tugged on the hem
of my panties, pulling them up, though they were as far up as they would
go, she seemed to be straightening them, as if to ensure my modesty.
ÒNo more birth control for either of you,Ó Emily proclaimed, though
quietly, standing up straight. ÒI want both you females to be Ôat risk,Õ
shall we say, the wedding real, everything real. WeÕll provide you with
pills later to undo the damage.Ó The Ôroyal we,Õ I wondered? Was Emily
our Father, Son, and Holy Ghost now? Or would there be others, not just
onlookers, but Ôcontrollers,Õ as it were. EmilyÕs shadow lay over me,
protecting me from the sun. ÒIf worse comes to worse my husband
performs abortions, though I shouldnÕt think it will come to that.Ó She
turned then, her skirts swishing, twirling under her hips, her dress down
to her ankles, yet such thoughts in her mind!
ÒSam,Ó Jill whined, as Emily left us, her figure retreating. She had a
regal bearing, this woman of commerce. I watched as her ass undulated
with practised grace. I knew Sam was watching it too, even as his wife
sat complaining in his lap.
ÒSam, are you going to make us do such an awful thing?Ó I asked,
turning to look at him when Emily had disappeared.
ÒWhat, marry me?!Ó Sam asked.
ÒYes!Ó Jill said. ÒI donÕt want to marry you, Sam!Ó
ÒMe neither,Ó I pouted, but my eyes drank in his huge, hairy chest,
naked and still dripping from the pool, even as I claimed to deny him.
ÒWhat are you looking at?Ó Jill asked me.
ÒMy new husband,Ó I answered. I would not let her have him, no, not
unless I could too!
ÒLooks like youÕll both just have to marry me!Ó Sam replied.
The room was hushed. I entered. I wore a full white wedding gown,
a woman holding up my train behind me, walking slowly. She held it too
high, I thought, showing my calves, my ankles. People could see my
stockings.
I held flowers. The group was small. Sam stood at the altar, two
candles, a Bible lying open. A nightstand was our alter. A small linen
cloth had been placed over it for purity, and to catch the candlesÕ
drippings. Emily stood beside the alter. She wore a black dress, low cut,
too low for a minister. Yet a white and black ministerÕs collar was
snapped around her bare throat. Sam did not seem to mind the ministerÕs
decollete dress. It was slit up the sides, though Emily stood still now,
stiff and righteous, with a small smile on her lips. Her figure was slim,
but for her breasts. She gazed through me, seeing, but not, watching I
knew for Jill, who emerged behind me. Together we trailed our dresses up
the aisle, me in front, her behind. Our long gowns swished along the floor,
except in back, where a woman held up each of our gowns, one bridesmaid
apiece for each of us. I felt my gown rising higher and higher as I
advanced up the aisle. I hoped she didnÕt lift it too high! I wore no
panties. Emily had provided none, declaring them unnecessary.
HOW TO MEET ME
by holy joe
Recently I came across a little book. ItÕs in the shape of a bird-
watcherÕs guide. ItÕs called, ÒThe Field Guide to North American Males,Ó
by Marjorie Ingall. $9.95, ISBN 0-8050-4219-9.
Naturally, being (nominally, at least) in the aforementioned
category, I went paging through the book looking for myself. But I got left
out. So IÕve decided to write my own entry. That way, when you girls see
me, youÕll know to walk up to me and say, ÒHi! I just made Playmate of the
Year. LetÕs fuck!Ó
Galactic Weightlifting Novelist
(Arnoldo Monumento)
Diet: Appears not to need food, despite massive chest and biceps (and
pecker).
Nest Type: Cleans Bob GuccioneÕs penthouse and lives there for free.
Intake: Has money thrown at him by sexually deprived Penthouse Pets.
Foraging Technique: One minute youÕre walking down the street, the next
minute youÕre underneath him.
Plumage: Sweaty T-shirt and boxers. (This is his Ôformal wear.Õ)
Otherwise naked, except for a loin cloth Ôto conform to gym regulations.Õ
Habitat: Gym, gym, gym. Plans to live on top of Mount Himalaya when his
film career blossoms, but will move it to Florida first. Very rarely
spotted at the porno rack at Tower Books, when all the Pets and Playmates
are worn out from his exertions but he still Needs More.
Feeding Habits: Female cunts, tits, and buttholes.
Sexual Display: Shows you ÔModern MusclesÕ magazine and laughs at how
puny the guy on the cover is compared to himself. Sometimes types ÒR U A
girl?Ó in chat rooms on AOL. DidnÕt know the ÒKidÕs OnlyÓ chat rooms on
AOL werenÕt meant to include ÒmamaÕs little boy.Ó
Agonistic Display: Picks up your car and moves it into a ÒNo ParkingÓ zone
so you get a ticket.
Courtship Behavior: Takes you to see his latest film, ÒHercules Conquers
China,Ó which has great special effects even though it cost less than
$100,000 to make.
Mating Ritual: Picks you up and carries you someplace romantic. (ThatÕs
why they leave the lights off in the back of the gym.)
Mating Call: Tells you, ÒIÕm a novelist.Ó (DoesnÕt mention theyÕre sex
stories.)
Field Notes: The evolutionarily savvy female should consider the
advantage of dating a male who has conquered legions of girls and women.
He will know what to do, and when he is through with you, you wonÕt have
to worry about him calling you up and bugging you.
AND IN THE END...
CLINTONIAN LOGIC
Cloning creates life. Therefore, ClintonÕs against it.
Abortion destroys life. Therefore, ClintonÕs in favor of it.
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-END OF 211 EMISSION