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From: Andrew Roller <roller39@IDT.NET>
Subject: Bush League part 6 of 6 (NND)
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_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
BUSH LEAGUE
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Epilogue
I hiked up the steep cliffside. My legs were not what they’d
once been. The road was gone. My lungs hurt in my chest. The gulls,
sweeping over the cliffside, monitored our progress. Maria, stalwart as
ever, but looking much older now, walked ahead of me. I could hear the
coins I’d paid her jingling in her purse that was strapped round her
waist. She wore even more clothes now than when I’d known her in my
youth. I wore a simple dress, plus heavy socks and shoes for hiking.
The wind made my dress flap round my legs. I pushed at the crumbling
dirt with the stick in my hand.
Maria said nothing, leaving me to my memories. I looked up
over the top of the cliff as we rose to its summit. There were no
vine-covered spires. Another few steps and I saw there was nothing but
an arid, wind-swept plain, with a small jumble of rocks lying where the
castle with the unspeakable name had once been.
“What happened to it?” I asked. But she did not have to tell
me. It was the reason we’d come by boat. Gold had been found, by one
of the laborers, out in the field one day, as he sweated under the hot
sun. The government had nationalized the property. In the distance I
could hear the chain gangs working in the open pit mine, prison labor.
Already they had gouged out the earth right down to the sea, splitting
the place where the castle had been away from the mainland. A small
channel of water cut between it and the open pit mine now, leaving it
all alone, though destroyed by the 30 years of blasting that had
trembled across this place.
There was a rumble. I looked up. In the distance, a plume of
brown dirt rose up. More blasting. They were having trouble finding
gold these days and the government was apparently getting more
desperate. Engineers predicted that diamonds might be found if the
government blasted down deep enough. They dug new holes and deeper
holes, all part of an octopus of expanding interrconnected open-pit
mines. The sea, though, kept flooding into their pit, bubbling up from
below somehow so that it had to be pumped out by pumps that belched up
oil-coated smoke.
Over the years, before the sea finally cut a path between the
peninsula and the mainland, flooding in where the blasting had gone down
too deep, forcing the mine to swing back away from the castle, the
laborers had come and stolen stones from the demolished castle. It had
crumbled slowly at first, I learned. I’d asked of it in the bars in the
mining town. One day, I was told, a particularly vicious blast, set off
by too much dynamite, that killed 30 workers, had brought the whole
antique structure down.
The people in the town had kept me up late last night. They’d
told me of the castle’s fate. I’d arrived fresh from America and passed
through the streets, buying drinks until dawn for anyone who might tell
me of it. At dawn I’d met Maria. I’d found her washing dishes in the
back of one of the bars. She’d remembered me reluctantly. I think she
wished to have nothing more to do with me, but money talked. Or, at
least, it talked to the man who appeared to be her husband. He’d agreed
that she’d give up her day’s sleep to row me out here and show me the
ruin of tumbled rocks.
Rose’s title to the property had been defective. At least,
that was what the courts ruled. It made it easier for the government to
nationalize the property if they didn’t have to pay anyone. Even the
workers digging out the gold worked at no expense to the government.
Arrests had gone up in the town the year after the gold was discovered.
The government had imported other prisoners from far away. They were
all brought to the mine, given long sentences, hard labor, time off when
you die.
I walked up to the pile of old stones and kicked one. It
wobbled. A stone on top of it fell to the ground, nearly hitting my
foot. We walked round the pile of stones and found the pool out back.
It was empty, cracked, with rainwater in the bottom of it. The diving
board was gone. Only the stand for it remained. In the distance, where
the laborer’s shacks should have been, there was nothing but weeds. A
mile on and the top of the land suddenly disappered. The gorge.
Man-made, filled by the sea after the mine dug down and depleted the
gold in between.
“I want to eat lunch here,” I said to Maria. I walked back
toward the pile of rocks.
“Before dark...we must leave before dark,” she told me. I took
off my knapsack and knelt and unzipped it. Such a superstitious lady.
Standing, I unfurled my white tablecloth.
“Why?” I asked. Something made me want to stay the night.
There was nothing here, just the wind, the gulls, but I felt a desire to
stay just one night, and leave in the morning. Or at least to spend the
afternoon eating and enjoying the sea and the play of the light upon
it. And perhaps taking a nap. We could leave at sunset, couldn’t we?
I was too sleepy from my night on the town to just hop back into the
boat after lunch. The climb down would be hard. My lunch would make me
want to nap.
Maria watched me put my tablecloth down on the grass. She said
nothing. She went and sat down on some rocks that had once been the
castle and watched me eat. I offered her a sandwhich. She declined
it. I was glad because I was hungry and I ate it myself. She took out
a canteen and drank from it. I wondered if it was liquor. She should
not drink if she was going to row me back across the water. But I said
nothing. She was a large woman. A whole tub of liquor would probably
have gone down with her and not made her the least bit tipsy.
When I was done eating I let myself lie back on my tablecloth
and, despite Maria’s protests, I let myself fall asleep. I put my
knapsack under my head, just in case. I didn’t intend to tip her until
we arrived safely back on the mainland.
I awoke at sunset. I did not see Maria. I looked about,
called her name, but she was gone. My knapsack was untouched, but she
was nowhere to be seen herself, and when I ran to the cliffside and
looked down I saw our boat was not there. Had she finally exacted some
jealous revenge on me?
I glanced back at the rubble of the castle, feeling quite alone
suddenly. I could not escape the island tonight. I could shout, but
the miners would not be able to hear me. I got out my compact and tried
flashing it at them, but the sun was sinking fast. I could not get the
proper light.
Slowly the stars came out. I could hear the roar of the waves
all around me, dashing the rocks below and sluicing in and out of the
channel at the island’s rear. I sat down amidst the rubble and consoled
myself with my fate. Perhaps Maria would return tommorrow. I would
scold her. She would simply nod, saying nothing, and not listening,
either, I suspected, enjoying her little peasant’s joke on the rich girl
turned woman visiting from America. I returned to my tablecloth at last
and lay down on it. I pulled a small blanket from my knapsack and drew
it around me to protect myself from the wind. It was woolen, not too
warm, but warm enough, I felt, as the wind seemed to die where I lay
though, in the distance, it still whipped at the long grass and the
weeds.
When the stars had almost completely wheeled about and dipped
their evening places into the sea I heard footsteps. I woke, looked
up. There, in the distance, where nothing should have been, I swear I
saw him. Lord Shaftsbury, uncloaked, for there was nothing but
starlight here. Barbi stood in her bikini beside him, gold rings
through her nipples, wearing just her panties. They seemed to shimmer
in the starlight and I saw Lord Shaftsbury looking at me, his chest
bare, his hair flying back in the wind I could not feel. And then,
lying in the grass at their feet, I thought I saw myself. Barbi knelt
and drew down the back of my panties from my bottom, which stuck up with
the impudence of youth for I was just 13 again and my bottom was white
in the starlight and I was lying on my belly. Lord Shaftsbury revealed
himself and drew me up just enough, and knelt between my legs and took
me. Barbi helped him, then went and knelt by my face to urge me to let
him take me, right in my bottom, with his shaft gleaming and finally
pumping in and out of me as I moaned into her hands and she untied her
panties to let me lick at her cunt.
I awoke with a start. Sunlight blazed in my face. The wind
had picked up again but my blanket kept me warm in the rising sun.
Instinctively I twisted my head round, to where I’d seen myself. There
was nobody there. And then I saw them. A child’s panties, swim
panties, lying on the ground. They were printed with my favorite
color. Had they been swept up here by the wind? And then-- beside
them, I saw the panties that a slighly older girl might wear, untied,
fluttering loosely in the breeze. A sudden gust caught them and they
blew away over the cliff.
I leapt up. I ran to catch them but I was too late, and I
stopped instead where my own panties lay, or ones just like mine, and I
bent and picked them up before they too were swept away by the wind.
Looking out toward the horizon, I wondered if Maria would
come. If she did not I could signal the miners with my compact when the
sun was higher. I turned and looked at the old castle, clutching the
panties that must have been mine yet could not be mine but somehow I
knew were mine, blown in from the beach from years ago, where I’d left
them and my childhood behind. The castle was just a pile of old rubble,
but the panties I clutched in my hands were brand new, just like when
I’d left them on the beach at Montevideo all those years ago. I looked
down at them. Had some pervert found them, and kept them in his
collection all these years, so that they did not age as I had? Had they
been kept carefully bagged in plastic, with just a touch of my youthful
essence imbuing them where my cunny had rubbed softly against them? I
fingered the soft fabric. I would keep these always, no matter how old
I got. And someday, someday I’d give them to another girl, a girl of
13, a frisky girl who wanted to grow up too fast and couldn’t wait any
longer. And, thinking, imagining, I knew who would come if these
panties were worn by just the right girl, a well-brought up blonde girl,
with a pair of young breasts and long legs that still were too skinny
but weren’t quite skinny enough anymore to keep Him at bay, or other men
either. Men who liked to see a girl walking along the shore in the
breeze of early morning, that clear clean salt air breeze that made
everything pure and made young spoilt girls want to lie in the sand
sometimes, all alone, and wait for whomever might come by.
THE END
----------------------- Dreamgirls! -----------------------
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-END OF 272 EMISSION
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