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Subject: UF: Acro Inc. (part 1a)
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Acro Inc. Part 1

     The sun was a huge orange fireball hanging just above the
horizon.  It was warm both in hue and in effect--quite warm for this
time of year.
     It was spring, but here and there patches of snow could still
be found.  The run-off had not taken everything away.
     The slightest hint of warm weather brought out the truly
dedicated sun worshippers.
     Jim Calwell was watching those people out of the living room
window of his million dollar beach house.  Whenever anyone asked
what Jim's house was like he'd always joke about his "million
dollar beach house."  The truth was that it cost him under three
hundred thousand and happened to appreciate in value to almost a
million in less than five years.  It had been a fabulous
investment.
     A similarly great investment were Jim's binoculars.  He sat
unobtrusively in a chair at the window for hours looking out over
the beach and lake.  In the winter he saw very little of interest,
but now he was starting to see sights like he was concentrating on
now.
     Two teenage girls had found their way down to the secluded
spot near his house.  They had planted an umbrella at about noon
and had sat under it all day.  At first they were wearing T-shirts
and shorts, but eventually, as they grew comfortably with the idea
of being alone on the beach, they had stripped down to their tiny
little panties.  Jim watched in awe as they slowly revealed their
perfect young bodies.
     The one girl, a blonde, was tanned evenly all over.  She had
a perky, elf-like face and a sleek build.  Her grapefruit-sized
tits were perfect globes that sat high on her chest, as tanned as
the rest of her.  Her brown aureoles spread out like pools around
her wind-stiffened nipples.
     Her friend was more of a mystery.  She was obviously less of
a sun goddess and removed her bra hours after the blonde did.  Jim
felt it was worth the wait.  Perhaps because they weren't tanned,
this raven-haired beauty seemed to have breasts like jewels.  They
almost glittered as Jim watched.  They were smaller than the
blonde's, but seemed fuller, more alive.
     Jim found himself wondering what the brunette's cunt looked
like.  Did it shine out from the rest of her body like her tits
seemed to?
     Jim had managed to unzip his fly and pull out his hard cock
without putting the binoculars down.  He'd had plenty of practice.
     Now that the sun was disappearing, the girls were getting
ready to pack up, and Jim's carefully nursed hard-on, which he had
been keeping expertly on the brink all afternoon, was given relief. 
He stroked it briefly and watched as stream after stream of
orgasmic effluvium hit the window sheers that his wife had put up
just last month.  The rest of his cum dribbled out onto the carpet.
     "Fuck," Jim exclaimed, "those sweet young tramps have no idea
what they did to me.  God, I can't believe how horny they made me."
     "How horny who made you?"  Jim had not heard his wife come
home.  He dropped the binoculars in surprise.
     "Goddamnit you scared me... I was just..."  Jim tried to stuff
his still dripping prick back into his pants.
     Jane had a smile on her face as she came over to join Jim at
the window.  "You naughty little boy.  Have you been jerking off?" 
Her eyes glanced away from Jim's fumbling hands and ineptly
enshrouded dick to the streaks of semen flowing down her curtains
and staining her carpet.  "Oh my god Jim!  Look at the mess you
made of the living room.  You've cummed up and down my new sheers,
and on the carpet."
     Jim looked up at his wife, his face flushed with
embarrassment.  "I'm sorry sweetheart.  I guess I should have been
more careful... about shooting my load all over the place.  But if
you had seen the bitches I was looking at today -- I mean they were
hot."
     Jane smiled again, still shaking her head at the mess Jim had
made.  "They were hot were they?  Hotter than me?"  Jane struck a
pose.
     Jim had to admit his wife was gorgeous.  She stood five-foot-
eleven, exactly his height.  But she wasn't awkwardly tall.  Every
inch was perfectly proportioned.  She was now thirty-two years old
and ran her own photograph brokerage, but in her teens and twenties
she had been a model.  It was her legs that had kept her employed
constantly.  They were flawless.  But sitting atop those legs was
Jim's favourite part: her ass.  It was firm yet sumptuous, and
flared out just the right amount from her slim waist.  He had given
her a body bracelet three years ago; it accentuated an already
great transition from waist to hips.
     In her current pose, Jane was emphasizing her tits by arching
her back and thrusting her chest forward.  In the silky white
blouse she was wearing, they certainly looked great: round, firm,
and full like every pair of breasts should be.  Her nipples pushed
insolently at the clingy fabric.
     Jim, now a chastised little boy, looked into his lap and
admitted, "You're definitely the hottest bitch in the whole world."
     She kicked gently at him to get his attention again.  "This
hot bitch wants you to eat her until she passes out.  If you do a
good job with your tongue on my pussy, I'll clean up your mess for
you."  Jane had been at work all day on a proposal for Reitman and
Ward, the major advertising conglomerate, to use her photos instead
of Imagebank's.  It had been particularly exhausting.  She could
think of nothing better to teach her husband a lesson than getting
him to use his expert tongue to thrill her clit.  Cleaning up some
of his stale spunk--hell, licking up some of his stale spunk--would
be an apt payment in return.
     Jim submissively slipped out of his chair to his knees and
pressed his face into the front of his wife's grey skirt.  Jane put
her hands at her sides and slowly started pulling up the three-
quarter length wrap-around.  When she had the hem at the top of her
black stockings she slowed the pace even more, enticing Jim.
     Impatiently Jim sniffed up under the rising hem and caught a
hint of the scent of Jane's pussy.  It was sweaty from the long
drive out of the city.  That musky fragrance made Jim's withered
dick spark back to life.
     As his hard-on grew, so did his wife's enthusiasm for her
little striptease.  She looked down over her bosom to the top of
Jim's head and the edge of her skirt, which was now revealing the
straps of her black garter belt.  She moved her hips back and
forth; Jim followed every move as if his face was affixed to her
pelvis.
     When she finally got the skirt all the way up, she lifted her
right leg up on the chair that Jim had been sitting in.  The crotch
of her black lace panties was right beside Jim's cheek; she could
feel his breath on her inner thigh.
     "Come on, baby.  Can you smell my cunt?  Doesn't it smell
good?  I bet it's really tasty."
     Jim looked up at his wife's beautifully sculpted face.  High
cheekbones and doe-like blue eyes were framed with short blonde
hair, expertly coiffed.
     "Eat me," she begged.
     Jim reached up with his right hand and pulled the black lacy
fabric away from her crotch, tugging roughly to get at the
treasure.  He pushed his face into the mass of golden pubic hair,
his nose resting right above her clit.  He inhaled deeply.
     Moving away far enough to unmuffle his voice, he said,
"Actually, baby, your cunt smells a lot like sweat and stale piss." 
He was teasing her; although it was a little sweaty, her pussy had
the heady scent of sex laced through it.
     She grabbed his hair and pushed his face back into her crotch. 
"Then I guess you'll have to lick all the sweat and piss off before
you get to the good stuff.  I'm really starting to juice up, you
bastard.  Eat me!"
     The time for teasing had passed.  Jim snaked his tongue out
and scooped it upwards through the tangle of hair that obscured the
pink opening to Jane's vagina.  She pointed her raised knee out
further and bent the other one slightly.  This move made her
cuntlips blossom like a time-lapse sequence of a flower.
     Jim went wild.  He lapped heartily at her labia, purposely
avoiding her clitoris for a while.  Her gash was soaking wet to
start with, but his saliva soon made her literally drip.
     Shuddering, Jane said, "God, Jim, that's feels so good.  I was
thinking about getting you to lick me.  All the way home while I
was driving, I could hardly concentrate."  Jane turned her head to
look behind her out the picture window.  It was early evening now,
and, from outside, they were obviously silhouetted in this
position.  "I bet those two little cunts on the beach don't get
treatment like this.  Some clumsy teenage boy has probably tried to
slip his cock into them, but he probably ended up giving them a cum
shower because he couldn't hold it in.  You'd teach them a thing or
two, wouldn't you honey?"
     Jim hummed and nodded.  The added vibration made Jane shiver
again.
     "Much more of that, lover, and you'll have to move me to the
chair.  And I don't really want to sit down, because I was going to
ask you to give my asshole a little lick too.  Could you do that,
baby?  Could you lick me where I shit?"  She was stroking his head
while she cooed out her lecherous desires.
     Without answering, Jim grabbed his wife hips and roughly spun
her around.  Still wearing her high heels, she was not as agile as
she could have been; her legs twisted up and she fell.
     "Fuck," she exclaimed.  She rose to her knees in a crawling
position on the carpet, her firm panty-covered ass upturned.  Her
nose was inches away from Jim's puddle of congealing semen.  "Okay,
baby.  I won't bother standing up again.  Eat my ass, now."
     Jim grabbed the side of her panties with two hands and tugged
as hard as he could.  They ripped and he tore them away completely.
     She reacted without surprise or anger, even though he had
bought her this panty and garter set in Paris.  "Yeah, baby, take
control.  Fuck my little asshole with your tongue."
     The puckered bud of her asshole was quite appealing.  In this
position, Jane was displaying her most intimate charms.  Her
drenched pussy was gaping and swollen with arousal.  The small
distance of perineum between one hole and the next was dark and
goose-bumped.  Jim kissed Jane there for good measure.  She moaned.
     But her asshole was what she wanted him to lick now.  It was
a puckered brown opening that Jim knew was pink just below the
surface.  "Wink at me with your asshole," Jim said.  She complied:
the ring expanded and contracted, showing, then hiding, that pink
interior.
     Tempted by the rhythm of her anal flexing, Jim dove
tongue-first into his wife's ass.  She squealed with delight as he
jammed the pointed tip of his tongue deep into her bowels.
     "Yes, you fucker, taste me deep.  Deeper."  Jane churned her
hips in response to the expert analingus.
     All Jim could do was mewl in the back of his throat, making
incomprehensible sounds of lust.
     Jane supported herself with her left hand and used her more
agile right hand to undo the buttons of her blouse.  She had an
urge to play with her nipples.  But as soon as she had pulled her
blouse open all the way, she decided that getting her bra off would
be too much trouble, so she slid her hand down between her legs and
diddled her clit instead.  Eventually she had three fingers stuffed
into her cunt and her wrist occasionally bumped her husbands chin
as he ate her butthole.
     The shivers that had racked her body all along now tumbled
upon one another, building in intensity until she knew a full-blown
orgasm was on the way.  "Give me all you've got, baby.  I'm going
to blast off.  Eat my ass.  Keep eating it until I finish cumming. 
I want to see... if... unghhh."  Her voice faded away into mere
murmurs which eventually built back up into a wail as her orgasm
washed over her.
     Jim did as he was told, as much as she squirmed around.  He
kept his tongue buried up her ass until she was completely spent.
     When he withdrew his tongue he gave her ass a playful slap. 
"So, you hot little tramp, what gave you the craving for an
asslicking?"
     Jane, who was curled up into the fetal position with her
office attire in disarray around her, simply groaned.
     But Jane eventually got up the strength to tell her husband
about the day she had at the office...

     It began pretty much as any Sunday morning.  Light traffic
into the city and a freshness in the air that comes from fewer cars
polluting what we breathe.
     Jane was driving her brand new Pontiac which she was leasing
as a company car.  She loved having a successful business which
allowed her to write-off everyday items as legitimate business
expenses.
     As she drove along, she got the usual second looks from men in
the lanes beside her.  They were intrigued with her radiance and
apparently detached appearance.  Some would even describe her as an
"aloof bitch," but anyone who knew her would not agree.  She was
simply confident.
     Her husband had been asleep when she had left the beach house. 
She had gazed longingly at his semi-stiff morning dog, but resisted
the temptation to wake him up with a blowjob.  She had an important
proposal to finish and Darryl and Lara were going to be at the
office at ten sharp to help her.
     She pulled around the back of the office tower were a few open
air parking spaces lined a central courtyard.  On weekends, tenants
were allowed to park there.  During the week they were obliged to
use the spooky underground garage.  Jane was thankful it was Sunday
and she was early enough to get a spot.
     She parked and collected her briefcase and mini-cassette
recorder.  Many a great idea had been spoken into that thing.  She
intended to play back recent tapes this morning to get her
creativity limbered up.  It was like brainstorming with herself.
     When she unlocked the office on the twentieth floor, Lara and
Darryl were not there.  On Sundays they could afford to be a little
lax about time, but Jane would not stand for tardiness during the
work week.
     She went into her office and closed the door.  Already the
images of her husband's thick prick draped across his stomach this
morning were coming back to her.  She sat down and gave her tits
and painful squeeze then thumped her fists down into her thighs to
try to dispel some of the lust coursing through her.
     She loaded a tape into the mini-recorder and pushed PLAY.
     To Jane's surprise the voice that came on was not her own.
     "Well, Mrs. Calwell," said a strange man's electronic voice.
"You finally played this tape.  I wonder what you're wearing right
now.  Are you in the office?  Maybe you're at home in bed trying to
catch up on some work just before going to sleep.
     "Or maybe you're in the bathtub.
     "Wherever you are, and whatever you're wearing, I know you
look sexy.  You're the best looking woman in this building...
probably in the city."
     Jane was almost blushing at the man's apparent sincerity, but
she was both frightened and excited by his intimacy.
     "I think about you when I jerk off."
     Jane pushed STOP.  She felt like throwing the tape away.  Who
was this pervert?  The she decided to hear the entire thing and see
how she felt afterward.  She pushed PLAY again.
     "I get my cock all hard and throbbing, then I stroke it for
you.  Your tight ass, and your perky little schnoobs are what I
like best.  But I bet your cunt is nice too.
     "I bet your cunt smells like roses.  I know you've had a lot
of cocks up there, but it still smells fresh like it did when you
were a little girl.
     "If you ever let me come into the women's washroom with you,
I'll let you watch me jerk off while you used the toilet.  We could
be in the same stall together and nobody would know.  My cock would
be right in your face while you took a shit and you could suck on
it if you wanted."
     She wondered what this guy was on.
     "I'd love to see your slutty little lips wrapped around my
dick, especially while you were taking a shit.  Then I'd push your
head all the way down and force you to drink all my cum when it
squirted out."
     Jane winced, but she let the tape run.
     "Then, you know what Jane?  I'd make you get off the toilet
and turn you around.  Your turd would still be floating in the
bowl, but I'd kneel down and lick your asshole anyway.  Would you
like that Jane?  I think you would.  You want a guy to lick your
shit up so you don't have to wipe yourself, don't you?"
     The man laughed and the tape went silent for a moment, then
the silence was replaced by her own voice dictating a note about
the photographic filing system codes.
     Jane pushed STOP and settled back in her chair.  Then she
noticed the quivering in her lower stomach.  Curious to know if she
had subconsciously been turned on by the pervert on the tape, she
leaned forward and slid her hand awkwardly up her skirt.  The
crotch of her panties was damp and when she pulled it aside to
touch her labia, she found them very moist indeed.
     What was wrong with her?  Could she have actually enjoyed the
depraved suggestions of the man on the tape?  Strangely she knew
that she had.  She was already formulating a plan to get her
husband to help her realize the fantasy.
     Still, Jane thought, she should undoubtedly be worried about
the identity of the guy on the tape... he obviously worked in the
building and had access to her office so he could record over her
personal mini-cassettes.  Was he a psychotic sex killer?  Or just
a harmless pervert?  She would have to find out.

     So that was what had prompted Jane to go hog wild with her
husband after his little masturbatory escapade with the binoculars
and the beach bunnies.
     Jane had changed into her silk robe while she was relating the
story, and was now lounging on their king-sized bed.
     Jim cleared his throat.  "That's certainly a hell of a story. 
Do you have the tape with you?"
     "Yeah.  I have it in my briefcase.  Who do you think the guy
is?"
     Jim shook his head.  "Maybe one of the office boys.  Hell...
it could be your banker or your lawyer for fuck sake.  It could be
anyone.  You're a sexy little cunt... and lots of guys know it."
     She scratched her chin in thought.  "Yeah, but that stuff
about eating my shit.  I mean, how many guys would want to do
that?"
     "Well you shouldn't ask the guy who's just had his tongue up
your ass for twenty minutes," Jim laughed.  "But seriously, you've
heard the joke about the girl who's so gorgeous `You'd eat the
peanuts out of her shit'?  Well it's the same thing.  He probably
doesn't even mean it literally."
     Jane was smiling.  "Come here, you.  I love you a whole bunch,
you know."  She flipped open the front of her robe and held her
arms out to him.
     His gaze roamed over the ruby tipped mounds of her breasts and
the golden triangle of fuzz between her legs.  Then he slipped
between her outstretched arms and kissed her on the mouth.  He
broke the kiss only long enough to say, "And, you Mrs. Calwell are
the sexiest woman I know and I'd eat the peanuts out of your shit
anytime."
     She laughed hysterically and batted him friskily on the arm.

     When Jim awoke the next morning, his wife was already up.  The
first he saw of her was her naked ass and legs as she bent in front
of the bed to pull on her panties.  Fresh from the shower, she
practically glowed vitality.  He hair was still a little damp, so
when she turned to smile at him, she reminded him of a water pixie
he had seen in a children's book once.  But no children would be
allowed to see the full ripe tits that adorned this pixie's chest.
     "Morning sleepyhead," Jane cooed.
     "Yeah," he muttered as he stumbled toward the bathroom.
     She followed him and hugged him from behind as he stood in
front of the toilet.  The warmth and humidity of her nearly nude
body pressed into his back was very distracting.
     "How am I supposed to take a leak with you hanging all over
me?" he asked.
     Looking down over his shoulder, Jane saw how he seemed to
nonchalantly point his dick in the general direction of the toilet
bowl, without even using his hand to aim.  "I'll never understand
how men do it standing up."  She slipped a hand between them and
rubbed a finger up and down the crack of his ass.  "Maybe you need
a little coaxing."  She pushed her middle finger against the
opening to his shitter.
     "Are you going to stick your finger up my ass?"
     "Maybe," she answered, pushing a little harder.
     "I think you are.  Do you think that's going to help me piss?"
     Jane shrugged.  "I don't care what it does... it feels good."
     "You're right about that."  Jim forgot about trying to pee and
pushed his hips back, forcing his asscheeks apart.
     Jane took advantage of the increased leeway and slid her
middle finger in deeper.  "Does it hurt yet?"
     "A little," Jim grunted.
     "Good."  She shoved a little more.  "How about now?"
     Jim leaned all the way over the toilet, fully exposing his
butthole to his wife's whims.  "Yeah.  It fucking kills."
     Just pantyclad, Jane felt as if she was completely dressed
with her husband in such a vulnerable, naked position.  She wormed
her finger further into his rectum and wiggled it around in his
bowels.  She noticed his cock twitch in response.
     Suddenly she pulled her finger out.  Jim barked in agony. 
"Damn you, next time use a little lubrication or something."
     She giggled and sniffed at her anus-scented finger.  "Phew,
you stink.  And I have to go to work."
     Jim ignored her and concentrated once again on taking his
morning leak.  Jane kissed him goodbye and busied herself with
dressing and getting ready for the office.

     Jim Calwell Associates was a small firm specializing in
corporate communications and training.  Jim had started the company
two years ago after the equity in his home skyrocketed and he got
sick of working for a big corporation.  The irony was, now that he
owned his own business, he kissed up to the big corporations more
than he ever did as an employee.
     Getting big, dependable clients was very difficult, and
hanging onto them could be even more difficult.  After all, it took
just one suggestion from an executive to "try another firm" and Jim
had to start selling all over again.
     Still, he liked the work, and he often was able to combine
business and pleasure by getting his wife's company to supply the
photographs needed for a major corporate image campaign.
     Today, however, he was on his own.  His secretary, a cute
little Oriental girl named Nina, called in sick.  His part-time
writer and creative consultant, Wendy Hooks was in Cleveland at a
seminar he thought she should attend: "Creative Selling."
     So Jim put up his feet and pondered the new corporate identity
program he was putting together for RJR/Nabisco, his biggest client
yet.  They had started a new food division which they wanted to
distance from the overpackaged, "fast food cereal" image of the
Nabisco tradename.  Mulberry Foods Inc. was supposed to be a down-
home, darn-good food company.  Jim had to come up with something to
make the public fall for that crock.
     Putting cynicism aside, he leaned back and thought about how
horny his wife had been in the last little while.  She was being
really nasty, getting into talking dirty and doing things she
didn't normally do, like fingering his ass while he was trying to
piss.  Jim couldn't figure it out, but he sort of liked it.  He
figured her behaviour was linked somehow to that bizarre tape she
had listened to at the office.
     Thinking about his wife, instead of Mulberry, made Jim start
fiddling with his dick through his suit trousers.  He soon had a
raging hard-on going and decided, since he was alone, to take it
out and relieve the pressure by jerking off.  Maybe once he got
this load of cum out his system, he'd be able to concentrate on the
Nabisco problem.
     He lazily stroked his prick and almost fell asleep in the
chair.  Jim decided he needed a catalyst, something to add
excitement to the pleasure.  He reached over and hit the button
that dialled his wife's number at the office.
     Jane answered on the first ring, "Visual Treasury.  Jane
Calwell speaking."
     "Horny fucking husband.  Jim speaking."
     She snickered over the phone.  "What are you doing?  I'm
expecting some clients in a few minutes!"
     "You're alone now aren't you?"
     "Yeah."
     "Well, so am I and I have my cock out and I'm stroking it. 
How does that sound?"
     She hummed in the phone.  "Delicious.  Make sure you tell me
when the cum is going to shoot out... I'll imagine it's spraying
all over my tits."  She squirmed in her chair.
     "Actually, after this morning, I was kind of thinking you
deserve it up the ass."
     She whispered back, "You want to fuck me in the ass?  Wow.  I
never thought... well, maybe you'll get your wish as soon as I get
home tonight, you horny little fucker."
     Jim swallowed hard as he thought about actually sliding his
tool up his wife's butt.  "You're a slut aren't you Jane darling?"
     "Yeah.  I really am a hot slut who wants you to hose out my
asshole with your cream.  Maybe you'd like to do other things to
me, baby?  As your personal slut, I think you should tell me."
     "Would you like to be degraded, slut?"
     "You mean in public?  Embarrassed and humiliated?  What are
you going to do, baby?"  Jane voice had become very small.
     "What if I made a videotape of you in the shower and showed it
at our annual barbecue?  All soapy and wet.  Don't you think all
the men at the party would want to fuck you?"
     Jane unbuttoned her top blouse button to get a little more
air.  Her husband was getting her very worked up.  "Go on, baby."
     "If your brothers were there, even they would want to fuck
you.  Would you want your brothers to fuck you, slut?"  Jim was
letting his mind run free.  It seemed like the stroking of his hand
was like the devil's reel pulling him downward into depravity.
     Jane was forcing herself not to slide her hand under her
skirt, knowing that her clients would be there soon, but she
croaked back an answer: "Yeah, Mike and Patrick could fuck me."
     Jim loved how hot he was making the phone conversation.
     "At the same time?  One in your cunt and one up your ass. 
Maybe I'd come along and stick my cock in your mouth for good
measure."
     "All three of my holes?  Filled with the cocks of men I love? 
Wow.  Tell me more."
     "Maybe the rest of the people at the party would be watching. 
Maybe they'd all want to get in on the act.  All the women and
children too.  You'd be surrounded by groping hands, throbbing
cocks of all shapes and sizes, and some steamy pussy that needed
attention too.  What would my little slut do with all that sexual
equipment surrounding her?"
     "Ummm, sweetheart," her voice turned serious, "I have to go. 
Have a nice day."  She gulped and cradled the receiver as her
newest clients arrived.
     Jim dropped the phone when his wife hung up and brought
himself off.  The semen squirted up and landed on his desk blotter,
he stood to let the remnants dribble onto the blotter as well.  He
felt truly satisfied and wondered where he had thought of that
stuff about Jane's brothers.

     Jim was frustrated for the rest of the day.  He could not
concentrate on the problem of Mulberry Foods.  His cock wouldn't
stay soft.  It seemed to dance to attention at the slightest
movement of his pants.
     To get his mind off work and his wife, he decided to visit his
niece, Stephanie, who worked on the other side of town.
     Stephanie was his sister's kid.  She was sixteen years old and
as cute as a button.  In the last year, Jim had developed the hots
for her in the worst way--but he always managed to control himself
around her.
     As Stephanie had matured, she had become interesting to talk
to as well as a pleasure to look at.  She was a horse fanatic and
had secured a job at the local stables while she finished school. 
Jim had watched her ride on many occasions and she was damn good
with the horses.  Jim always found himself distracted by her nubile
young body in the riding outfit, but he noticed enough of her
riding skill to be able to critique her after she dismounted and
ran to hug him.
     "Your stirrup work is fine, but I'd use a little less of the
bridle.  The horse seems to read your mind, he doesn't need any
extra persuading."  Jim had ridden awhile himself, but soon he felt
his advice would not be required.
     "Thanks, Uncle Jim.  The horse feels so good between my legs
that I guess I just get carried away."
     Jim almost choked when Stephanie said that, but instead he
glanced at the sheath hanging down from between the horse's legs
and briefly imagined Stephanie under there getting her little pussy
stuffed full of horsecock.  It was a bizarre thought and he snuffed
it out quickly.  "You know in the old days young girls weren't
allowed to ride horses for just that reason."
     Stephanie scrunched up her pugnose and tossed her blonde braid
to one side.  "What do you mean?"  She tied off her horse and
started undoing the leather straps of the tack.

(to be continued in Part 1b)

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