Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 I'd been having bad luck at the tables all day.  Craps usually treated me
better, but it was obvious that this was not my day.  I was also
three-hundred dollars over what I'd allowed myself to lose. That meant that
there would be hell to pay when it came time to explain why I wouldn't be
able to repay my travel expense fund until my next payday.

   My boss had always been reasonable about my gambling.  I thought that a
bit odd, since I knew that her ex-husband suffered from the addiction.  I
don't know if mine could really be called an addiction though.  Perhaps a
bad case of `no self control' would be a better way of putting it. Anyway,
I called Helen and explained my situation.

   I was pretty sure that Helen was joking when she told me that I was
fired.  I chuckled a bit and then asked her if she was serious.  As it
turned out, she couldn't have been more serious.  "Gary, I'm afraid that
Mr. Adams is making this decision." Her reply was direct, but there was a
touch of real sympathy in her voice.  I asked, "You mean I seriously don't
have a job anymore?" She affirmed my question with, "Gary, Mr.  Adams is
signing your final check and it will be locked in my desk until you get
back." I stood dumbfounded at the lobby phone and listened as she
continued, "You know that he warned all of the employees that unauthorized
advances would be grounds for termination."

   I had to think quickly and asked, "So I'm losing my job because of a
lousy hundred bucks? . . . What if I can get the money before I come back?
. . .  Will I still be fired?" The phone was silent, and then Helen
answered, "What you do with your money is nobody's business but your own."
She paused again and this time I heard her putting her hand over the
receiver.  She was asking her boss what to do.  I clearly heard Mr.  Adams
say, "He's such a screw up . . .  If I don't get him this time, I'll just
send him to Vegas again and I'll get him next time." Then Helen removed her
hand and said, "Have a nice flight home."

   That was it.  Don Adams was nothing more than a whining little wimp of a
man.  His uncle had gotten him the job, and I wasn't afraid to tell him
about his lack of knowledge.  It was stupid of me, but I just didn't do
well with taking shit from little pencil necked dick yankers like Don.  I
mean, he's what the kid who was always telling on other kids in school
grows into being.  He doesn't have a mind of his own, so he has to make
everyone else look bad in order to boost his own image.  The big problem
was that he had a valid reason to fire me if I didn't get three hundred
dollars within the next four hours.

   I withdrew the last of my credit line from the A.T.M.  in the casino. 
That gave me a hundred and eighty dollars to work with.  I'd made up money
before, but never when my luck was running this badly.

   The Blackjack tables were brutal.  In less than twenty minutes, I'd
dropped a hundred and ten dollars.  Craps was my game, but it was the
reason that was in the mess to begin with.  With Blackjack treating me as
unfairly as Craps, I decided to try my hand at the Poker machines.  That
was the ticket that I needed.  In less than an hour, I was back up to over
four-hundred-dollars in the black.  Little Mr.  Prissy-Boy was going to
have to wait to fire my ass!

   I still had a couple of hours to kill, but I didn't want to take any
chances with my job.  I went to the bank and wired the money, more than
enough to cover my expenses, directly to the Company's account.  There
would be no way that Don could say a thing to me about an `unauthorized
advance'.

   My luck had improved enough that I started getting friendly with the
Keno girl.  She was a cute little shit.  Her pink mini left little to my
imagination, but what it did leave was quite nice.  She was charming, and I
was up almost eight hundred, so I did something that I almost never do.  I
tried to impress her by throwing away money.  I blew a hundred bucks on
just one bet.  It was a pick twenty ticket.  Dumb!

   The little pink outfit went around the corner, and I sat with a stupid
look on my face.  Sure, I was still at nearly the break-even point, but I
had been much closer with that hundred included.  All that I could do was
to continue to play the machine.  Lady luck was starting to play my tune.
Three full houses in as many hands.

   My little pink Keno girl returned shortly and handed me the tickets.  I
hadn't played it in so long that I'd forgotten that it would be a stack of
tickets.  At least she'd banded them together for me.  I tucked the tickets
in my shirt pocket and gave her a ten-dollar tip.  If I'd been smart, I
would have just given her the tip and forgotten about the Keno bet.  She
smiled and thanked me for the tip. Then then she went off in search of
another victim.

   Bells, whistles, and flashing lights!  Royal Flush, thank you very much!
I'd hit the progressive jackpot.  I knew what it meant.  Everyone knows
what it means.  I was going to be twenty-seven-thousand-dollars and change
richer!

   The crowd that was forming was more than what I'd expected.  The
attendant came with the photographer and congratulated me.  I'd won a few
large pots before, but this was the largest up until then.  It felt good to
get all of the attention for a change.  Only a few hours before, I'd been
worried about losing my job.  What I'd just won was more than a half-year's
salary!

   My little Keno girl returned and said, "My God, you won it!" I smiled
casually and said, "Thanks hun, I guess that you brought me the luck." She
shook her head and insisted, "No, I mean you won it! . . .  All twenty of
your numbers came in! . . .  I just checked! . . .  You just won over
sixteen-million dollars!"

   Things got a bit fuzzy after that.  I don't know if it was the rush of
the excitement, or if it was the serious look on the girl's face, but I
believed her.  It was less than a minute later when the manager of the
casino came to shake my hand.  Things got crazy pretty quickly after that.

   I know that it sounds strange, but I really can't remember much of that
night.  I know that they took my picture many times, and that everyone
wanted to shake my hand, but that's about it.  The only other thing that I
can remember was meeting a man who said that he could get me more money.

   My next real memory was of waking up the following morning.  I was in a
very nice suite and there were flowers all over in the room.  There must
have been twenty dozen roses in vases and boxes all throughout the room.

   I got up and walked into the shower, but not before calling down to
order breakfast.  I remembered fragments of the night before, but the full
weight of it didn't hit me until I'd been standing in the shower for a few
minutes.  Then it hit me like a ton of bricks!  I had to dry off and sit
down, no lie down!

   The man who I'd been talking with was Shelly's, my Keno girs's, father.
He was a tax attorney and he'd set everything up for me so that the
Government only got twenty-seven percent of my winnings.  It would have
been forty-one percent if Shelly hadn't talked me into speaking with her
father.  That meant that I would be leaving the casino with over
twelve-million-dollars and change!

   My newfound friend and attorney only charged me fifty `K' for the whole
thing.  I thought it was a hell of a deal.  If I hadn't talked with Shelly
before cashing in my tickets, the Feds would have taken over six and
three-quarters million of my money.  As it was, they got under four and a
half million.  That left me with plenty for Shelly's tip.  I'd matched the
amount that I'd given her father for his fees.  You should have seen the
look on that kid's face when I handed her a cashier's check for
fifty-thousand-dollars!  She couldn't have been much older than twenty-one,
and she giggled like she was sixteen when I handed it to her.  All in all,
it had been a pretty amazing evening.

   I lay on the bed and came to my senses after a few minutes.  I was still
shaken, but I knew that it was real.  I knew that I had more money than I'd
ever imagined, and that I could do pretty much what I wanted to do for the
rest of my life.  Oh yes!  This was going to be a wonderful day!

   The boys arrived with my breakfast.  The cart was laden with everything
that a man could want. There were bowls of fresh fruit, toast, juice, eggs,
bacon, hash-browns, and a steak that was large enough for three people. 
The juice was freshly squeezed, and the coffee smelled glorious.
"Compliments of the management," the taller of the two boys said.  I
thanked them both and dug through my coat pocket for a tip.  "A fifty?. . .
What the hell, you can afford it now!," I thought. The boys thanked me and
left.

   I spent the next few hours basking in my newfound confidence.  I also
spent it plotting.  I'd come up with a little idea that would put little
Donny the wanker to the shame that he deserved.  It would also spank Helen
just a bit for being his stooge.

   I arrived in front of the office building at about two in the afternoon.
I stepped out of the Yellow Cab and made my way into the building.  "Hello
Helen, is Mr.  Adams here yet?," I queried confidently.  Helen Sat with a
puzzled look on her face and replied, "He's here, but he's in a meeting
with Mr.  Adams Senior right now." A broad smile crossed my lips and I
asked her where they were.  She told me, but then insisted that I stay out.
"That's a private meeting, Gary! . . .  You can't go in there!," she
shouted.  As I pushed the door to the meeting room open, I turned, smiled,
and said, "Fuck you, Helen!"

   Carl Adams was a briliant man.  He'd worked his way up to president of
the company in less than ten years.  He knew what he was doing, and it
showed.  "Hello Gary," Carl said quietly.  Don bristled and said, "You're
fired ass-hole! . . .  I fired you this morning when you didn't show up on
time! . . .  Get out of here!" My smile broadened even more just before I
spoke.

   "Don, you're an incompetent little fuck-up, and you just tripped on your
own dick . . .  I am the reason that this meeting was called in the first
place." Don ignored my statement and told Helen to call the police.  "See
what I mean, Carl?," I asked.  He just nodded and said, "I'm sorry, Gary .
. .  Now I understand what you were talking about."

   I'd called Carl before I left the casino.  I told him about Don's
comment to Helen about sending me to Las Vegas so that he could fire me.  I
also told him that I'd spoken to an attorney and that the attorney felt
that I should sue.  Carl agreed to a meeting and I offered him a deal.  The
deal was that he not tell Don anything.  If Don slipped up in front of
Carl, I wouldn't sue as long as Carl fired him on the spot.  That's what
happened.

   Carl's deep voice was very calm and direct.  He looked at Don and said,
"Don, we can't have people like you working here . . .  Since you can't
seem to keep your personal differences from affecting your work, I'm afraid
that I've got no choice but to let you go . . .  I'm sorry, Don." The
little worm's face blanched to a greenish-white.  It was wonderful!  Don
pleaded for a few minutes, but it was to no avail.  He even tried the
`Uncle Carl' ploy, but that just seemed to make Carl more angry.

   The police arrived just as Don thought of a new tactic.  He took a swing
at me and started shouting obscenities.  The timing couldn't have been any
better!  Of course I told the police that I wanted to press charges.  Don
left the building in handcuffs.  Then Carl told Helen to come in.

   Again, he spoke softly and directly.  He said, "Helen, I'm not going to
let you go at this time . . . Your actions were wrong, but Don was your
boss, so I can understand the position that you were in . . .  However, I
do think that I should let you know that you're as far up in this company
as you're ever going to get . . .  We'll be hiring from outside of the
company to fill Don's position."

   Oh what a glorious day!  I felt like I was twenty again!  Forty-three
years old, a multi-millionaire, and I'd just done away with the ass-hole
who'd made my life so difficult!  I was in the best mood that I can ever
remember being in.  It was great!

   The next few weeks were spent researching investments.  One of which was
a run down resort camp on a lake in the Colorado mountains.  I'd always
wanted to own a piece of a lake, and this one was only a little over
three-hundred-thousand.  I asked my broker, Dave, and he said that it was
well worth the money, so I bought it.  I also bought three houses in
Lakewood and some acreage in Brazil.

   For the first time in my life, I could do whatever I wanted.  That
included women.  I found that most women were more than willing to put out
if they thought that they had a chance at a millionairre.  Needless to say,
I took full advantage of this.  I got fucked and sucked by more women than
any man has a right to.

   After a while, even the women became more bother than they were worth. I
mean, there's only so much ass that a guy can get until it starts getting
repetative.  It actually got to the point where I was enjoying my flying
lessons more than I was enjoying doing my flying instructor, and she was a
twenty-three-year-old fireball.  She had the body, the face, and more than
enough energy to satisfy most men.  The problem was that she was just like
all the rest.  She was just in it for the money. There was no challenge to
it.  I got my fixed-wing license and eventually moved up to a helicopter.
That's all that I'd really wanted to learn anyway.  I was only getting my
fixed-wing because it was required to move on.

   It had been nearly four months since I'd come into my fortune, and life
was getting to be really bland.  There was no place that I ever really had
to be at any given time.  It was the latter part of April and I was looking
for something to do.  That's when I decided to go and visit my camp in
Colorado.  I'd been to the houses in Lakewood, but it was too snowy to
visit my camp when I'd been there for that.

   Landing a helicopter can be a real bitch sometimes.  This was one of
those times.  I was actually quite glad that I still had about twenty hours
left before I could get my license.  It meant that Dan, my new instructor,
was there to help me to land the damned thing.

   Everything was overgrown.  There was still a bit of snow on the ground,
and it was obvious that no work had been done there for several years.  The
main road in was open, but there was snow piled across the entry gate to
the camp.  We got out of the helicopter and I walked around to see what I'd
gotten myself in to.

   The main cabin looked like it was in pretty good shape, so I walked up
the steps and fumbled through the mass of keys that my broker had given me.
It was quite nice when I walked in.  The door stuck a bit, but it was
obviously a serious bit of architecture.

   The main room was over a hundred feet wide, and at least half of that
deep.  The walls looked to be varnished logs, and there was an anormous
fureplace in the middle of the back wall.  From there I walked back through
what could best be described as a serving bar.  It was quite a bit lower
than a standard bar, but the open area behind it was obviously meant to be
a kitchen.  From the inside, it looked as though the kitchen area had been
an afterthought.  The room was large, but not as large as the main room.

   There were still large shiny steel vents in place, but all of the other
fixtures had been removed. The white linoleum was stained with dark grease
and dirt in the outlines of the missing fixtures. There were also several
large openings that I guessed were walk-in freezers and refrigerators at
one time.  All in all, the place looked sound but empty.  From the main
building, I decided to go and check out a few of the cabins.  There was
still a map of the camp by the front door as I walked out.  The glass
covering it was dirty, but surpirsingly enough, it wasn't cracked.

   The first cabin that I visited was not at all what I'd expected it to
be. It was basically a long rectangle with four glass windows and a door.
The inside wasn't much better.  Polished log bunkbeds along the walls and
bench-style tables running the length of the room were not what I had in
mind when I'd been told that it was a resort camp.  This was almost the
same type of a setup as I'd seen at a camp that I'd attended when I was in
grade school.  Thankfully, there were eleven more sleeping cabins to choose
from.

   As I checked the remaining cabins for liveability, I found that the camp
was not at all what I'd expected.  They were all dormitory style living
quarters.  The camp had obviously been designed for children.  It was not a
resort at all.  It was a place where rich parents might send their kids to
keep them occupied so that Mom and Dad can enjoy the Summer.

   My last ray of hope was a rather large cabin that was tucked in behind
the main building.  The building next to it was obviously a bathroom and
showers, but the larger cabin looked promising. It was shaped differently
from the others and appeared to be more in the style that I had expected
the rest of the cabins to be like.

   As I walked in the door, a staircase to an upper level greeted me.  This
was more like it.  It was basically a townhouse arrangement with a loft and
a large fireplace in the livingroom.  The livingroom, if that's what you'd
call it, was off to the left and it had a small kitchen tucked in behind
and around a corner.  There was also a bathroom and large storage room that
was accessed from under the stairs.  The upstairs had another fireplace,
directly above the one on the lower level, and two rather large bedrooms.
If all of the cabins had been like this one, I would have been well pleased
with my purchase.  As it was, I was going to have to spend some major money
to turn a bunch of dormitories into suitable cabins.

   I left the cabin and walked down to the docks.  They were sturdy
aluminum docks that had been pulled up in sections so that they wouldn't be
crushed when the lake froze.  The sections covered quite a large area even
though they were stacked four high.  I began to wonder what the camp had
looked like when it was operating.  There was a large storage shed, at
least that's what I hoped it was, up the bank from the dock segments.  I
decided to check it out to see if it was really what it appeared to be.

   To my surprise, the storage shed was just that.  It was almost
completely filled with canoes, oars, and life vests.  The canoes were all
standing on end and had bright red numbers painted near the front ends of
their green bodies.  There were racks of oars hanging on the other side of
the shed. Above the oars, hung dozens and dozens of small life-vests.  The
sight brought back memories of my own youth and made me wonder if I should
convert the camp to an adult resort or not.  I'd forgotten how much fun a
camp like this could be for a kid.

   With everything locked up securely, Dan and I flew back to Stapleton. 
It was about an hour-long flight and I really wasn't paying much attention
as I flew.  I was remembering the fun that I'd had at Camp Ticonderoga when
I was a kid.  I even closed my eyes a couple of times so that I could
visualize the hot days spent tying knots and playing in the water.

   I spent a week or so researching the property that I had bought.  Dave
had given me boxes of information about it before I bought the camp, but
I'd never taken the time to read about it.  I suppose that my expectations
would have been different if I'd read about it before I'd spent the money.
I probably wouldn't have bought it if I'd read up on it though.  I was glad
that I hadn't.

   What I found was that the camp was originally called Camp Dixon.  It had
gone bankrupt when several children's parents sued and won large
settlements because of negligence.  The documents maintained that the owner
had been at fault when several children were killed in a bus accident. He
had evidently been trying to save money by cutting maintenance expenses on
the busses.  The brakes went out on the way down the canyon and three
children were killed.  The details of a partnership were a bit sketchy, but
it was implied that a silent partner had been involved. Unfortunately,
there were no records of a partnership anywhere to be found.  That
explained why the canoes and docks hadn't been sold off during the
bankruptcy.  The partner still owned them, but didn't want to come forward
to claim them.

   The camp was my main area of interest in the coming months.  I planned
to have it open and operating by mid-July.  Dave told me to be careful not
to invest too much in something like a camp for kids, but I didn't really
pay much attention.  I shipped in all of the kitchen equipment, new
bedding, new shingles, the latest safety equipment, and just about anything
else that a top-of-the-line kids' camp would need.  I even had ramps
installed for kids in wheelchairs.  I was into it well over a million
dollars by the time that all was said and done

   On June third, I flew up to see how things were going.  (I'd gotten my
license by then.) The sight that greeted me warmed my heart.  It was better
than I'd hoped for.  All of the cabins had new rooves.  There was a new
cabin next to the large one behind the main building.  It was a
mirror-image of the one that I'd liked so well.  All of the paths were
graveled.  The docs were floating, and it just looked like a postcard from
the air!  The new clearing for the helipad was cut into a stand of pines.
It was almost a quarter of a mile from the camp, but that's where I'd told
them to put it.  So far, everything was exactly as I'd told the foreman to
make it.

   When I got to the camp, I was greeted by Martin, `Marty', the job
foreman.  He showed me through all of the buildings.  He'd done a
remarbible job.  I don't know how he did it, but he'd turned the dormitory
cabins into liveable quarters.  The only obvious change was the addition of
a wood-burning fireplace to the back of each cabin.  "Now these are them
heat-pump units, so no little `uns ull get burned if they'll just keep them
doors closed," he explained.

   Marty led me to the kitchen.  It was a work of art.  There were stoves,
grills, and ovens everywhere.  The large spaces had been filled with two
walk-in freezers and a walk-in refrigerator. A whole row of sinks and pot
storage would have made any cook proud.  I'd known that everything would
have to be sturdy to stand up to the wear and tear of kids.  After all, I'd
spent my fair share of time on pots and pans duty when I was at camp.  This
place would be able to handle an army of kids and still survive!

   Marty was excited when he showed me the new adults' cabin.  It was a bit
different than the old one in that it had seven small bedrooms upstairs and
a smaller living room on the main floor.  It still had a small kitchen, but
it also had three more small bedrooms the main level.  There was also a
little cubicle of a room with several monitors on a desk.  Marty said,
"That's for them cameras and fire alarms."

   I'd known about the fire alarms, but the cameras came as a complete
surprise to me.  "Cameras?," I asked.  Marty led me out to the first
dormitory cabin and pointed to a small black dot over the door.  "There's
one of these here on each cabin," Marty explained.  He continued, "I had
`em put the same kind on the inside, but that attorney fella' of yours said
ya cain't do that . . .  He says that them little`uns cain't be watched
like that . . .  If ya ask me, ya gotta watch little'uns ever minute or
they gunna get in trouble!" I laughed and replied, "I know I sure did when
I was little." With that, Marty leaned closer and whispered, "They're still
in all them cabins and I'll hook `em up if'n ya want me to." He led me
inside of the cabin and pointed to a dot above the fireplace and another
one right above the door.

   I didn't know what to say.  Marty had done such a wonderful job that I
didn't want to hurt his feelings by telling him no.  I said, "Marty, that's
a great idea, but some of the kids who will be helping to run the camp
might take advantage of it." He nodded knowingly and said, "Yeah, I
unnerstand . . .  I'll take care of it for ya, Gary." I thanked him and we
continued my tour.

   The docks formed an enormous letter `H'.  The two legs of the dock that
touched the beach enclosed an area in the middle that would be perfect for
swimming.  Even the kids who were afraid of the water could feel
comfortable wading in there.  I asked Marty to enclose the area with heavy
nylon netting and he told me that he'd see what he could do.

   That was everything but the building that I called my cabin.  It had
been carpeted on the second level and furnished with pickled pine
overstuffed furniture on the lower level.  It was about the only place that
turned out exactly as I'd expected.  All of the other buildings had been
primarily of Marty's design.  I almost wished that he'd done my cabin too.

   The flight home left me feeling rewarded and content.  Although I didn't
intend to spend much time at the camp, I knew that it would be nice for the
kids.  I also knew that I was really making a difference.  It certainly
wasn't going to add to my wealth, but it was going to add to my peace of
mind.

   I'd rented a rather small office soon after I'd quit working for Helen.
It was mainly a way for me to keep my secretary.  She'd been with me for
almost four years, and I didn't want to leave her to the vultures at
Pennbroke.  It worked out quite nicely for both of us.  Michelle was a
wonderful typist, and she had ways of organizing things that I could never
fully understand.  She kept my schedule reasonable, but always flexible.

   I was sitting in the office while talking with Michelle.  She was
excited for me.  I knew that she had three kids of her own, so I told her
that she was welcome to send them to the camp whenever she wanted.  She
thanked me politely and then told me that her husband had a bad experience
at a camp when he was younger, so she didn't think that he would approve.

   Topics quickly changed and we were soon going over the deatils of
upcoming trip to Brazil.  It was something that I was looking forward to.
I'd always wanted to visit Brazil, but it was a reality now.  There was no
reason for me to stay here and just think about it.  Michelle made all of
the arrangements and reservations.  There was nothing left out.

   I spent the next few days getting ready.  I even tried to brush up on my
Portuguese and Spanish. From what I understood, the language down there was
a mixture of the two.  I didn't really need to know how to speak the
language, but it was something to do.

   The flight was long and boring, but the customs officials in Brazil made
up for that boredom. They went through everything in each of my bags, while
I stood by a large white counter.  When they were satisfied that I wasn't
bringing in any illegal articles, a rather large Brazilian man said, "We
are sorry for any inconvenience that this may have caused you Mr.  Porter .
. .  It is for your own safety that we are forced to do this." His accent
was thick and his speech rehearsed.  I knew that I was no longer in a place
where the rules were familiar.  Michelle had warned me that bribes were not
only accepted in Brazil, but that they were also expected.

   I smiled at the man and asked, "Is it permitted for me to give you a
gift for your considerate treatment of my belongings?" His English might
have been broken, but his understanding of it was quite good.  The man
nodded, held out his hand, and replied, "That is quite acceptable Mr. 
Porter . . .  Thank you." I handed the man a crisp twenty-dollar bill and
thanked him again.  (Michelle had also told me that U.S.  money was the
best medium for bribing and tipping.) With that, the man put white tags on
the handles of my baggage and nodded to another man who was standing near a
doorway.

   My taxi driver was a very nice man who spoke much better English than
the customs official.  I would have been more comfortable if he had paid
less attention to our conversation and more attention to the roads, but we
arrived in one piece anyway.  Then he unloaded my cases and thanked me for
the tip.  Not ten seconds later, a gang of children emerged from the hotel
doorway and hurriedly carried my baggage inside.

   Ten sets of blinking eyes stared at me as I registered.  It seemed that
each bag required two children to carry it.  They looked like they ranged
in age from about seven to about twelve or thirteen.  The clerk smiled at
me, handed me my room key, and then gave me directions to the elevator.  I
looked over my shoulder and watched as the little vultures struggled to
follow behind me.

   Once to the room door, the children looked up at me knowingly.  I must
have had sucker stamped on my forehead or something.  I reached into my
pocket and gave them each a dollar.  Their quiet demeanor became whoops and
hollars as they bounded toward the stairway.  I thought it odd that they
would not use the elevator, but found out later that the hotel allowed them
to use the elevator only when they were carrying baggage.

   Once inside of my room, I noticed that a bright eyed girl still remained
in the hallway.  She looked to be ten or eleven and wore a smile that would
melt butter.  "Did I forget to give you a dollar, honey?," I asked.  I
could see by the greenback in her hand and knew that I hadn't.  "No mister
. . . You want lovin'?," she replied.  She couldn't have meant what it
sounded like so I asked, "What do you mean, honey?" Her smile remained and
her eyes continued to dance.  She asked, "You're American?" I answered,
"Yes." "Americans like smooth ones?," the girl queried.

   I knew that the little girl was talking about something else, but I had
no idea what it was, so again I asked, "What are you talking about, Honey?"
The girl looked carefully down the hallway then pulled her underwear to her
knees and said, "See? . . .  I got smooth one . . .  No hair . . .  Just
for you." What the fuck?!!  I knew that things were different in Brazil,
but I'd never expected anything like this!  "I'm come in, ok?," the girl
asked.  I wanted her out of the hallway no matter what, so I quickly pulled
her in my room and closed the door.

   I told the girl to pull her panties up, but she did just the opposite.
They were on the floor and she ran and flopped on my bed.  "Honey, how old
are you?," I asked.  "Ten," she replied as she plunged two fingers into
herself.  All that I could do was gulp and stand dumbfounded at the little
girl's actions.  "See? . . .  You fit good I bet," the little girl
announced.  Her eyes still twinkled and her smile never left.

   I sat on the edge of the bed and asked, "Do lots of men make you do
this?" She shook her head and said, "I do it good for you . . .  I suck if
you want." I just sat there and wondered what kind of a culture I'd walked
into.  Then I said, "Honey, you don't have to do this . . .  I'll give you
money, but please put your clothes on, ok?" Her smile faded and tears
replaced the twinkle in her eyes. She said, "You not like how I am . . . 
You think me ugly!" The girl quickly closed her legs and covered herself
with her tiny hands.

   I had no idea what to do, so I shook my head and said, "That's not it,
honey . . .  You're beautiful! . . .  You're just not old enough to do
things like this." She turned away and pouted.  With that, I reached under
her shoulders and pulled her to me in a hug.  Her eyes burned through my
own in search of the truth.  "You no think me ugly?," she asked.  I smiled
broadly and slowly shook my head.  "You at least touch me and see?," she
asked.  There was great doubt in her voice.  I shook my head slowly and
said, "You're too young." The girl was not going to accept that as a valid
answer.  She took my free hand and slapped it against her little mound. 
Her eyes never left mine. "Honey, you're too young," I insisted.  "You feel
it!," she insisted right back.  "You feel it inside!," she continued.

   There was no way that I was going to put ANYTHING inside of that little
girls's twat!  I stared back at her as intently as she was staring at me
and said, "No!" I felt pain in the back of my hand and then I felt my
finger slip into her.  "No!," I again exclaimed loudly.  The kid continued
to pinch my hand and hold it in place.  "Plenty old . . .  Plenty good! . .
.  You think me ugly or you want!," she shouted.

   I knew that I had to regain control of the situation.  There was no way
that a ten-year-old girl, who couldn't have weighed more than eighty
pounds, was going to make me do what I didn't want to do.  I pulled hard
and removed my finger from her little cunt.  Then I said, "Honey, I mean
it! . . .  I think you're very pretty, but you're too damned young!" Her
reply caught me off guard. She said, "You got hard one . . .  You think me
ugly or you want do it!" It was time to change tactics.  I was getting
angry and I wasn't about to give in!

   I stood and pulled my pants down.  Then I shouted, "You want this in
there?," as I pointed between the little girl's legs.  I was going to show
her that things could be painful for little girls who thought that they
were big girls!  I pulled her legs, spread them, and then rammed my cock
into her on the edge of the bed.  She didn't scream.  She just sighed and
smiled up at me.  That just made me all the more angry.

   Thrust after thrust got no adverse reaction.  Hell, she was enjoying
herself!  It took a moment for me to regain my composure and then I
realized what I was doing.  I was having sex with a ten-year-old girl. 
What's worse, her hips kept coming up to meet my every thrust.  I watched
her bite her lip and then I felt her tiny velveteen cunny dump hot liquid
on my cock.  She had just cum on me!  With that, I felt the warm sensations
forming in my balls.  My face began to flush and then I dumped my load
inside of her.  I came hard.

   The mixture of anger, fear, and being completely out of control made me
cum in that little girl like I'd never cum before.  She honest to God
giggled when she felt me cum.  She smiled, looked up at me, and then
giggled.  What she said next made me feel ashamed.  I was feeling the guilt
beginning almost the moment after I stopped cumming.  When she said, "I
suck it all out now," I the guilt really hit hard.

   Without warning, this little girl maneuvered herself around on the bed
and took my dick in her mouth.  Her tiny hands massaged my balls as she
diligently sucked until she was convinced that I was empty.  I just stood
there and let it all happen.  After that, she stood on the bed with her
legs spread and said, "Watch." I stood in awe as she wiggled and contorted
her little body until gobs of my own white cum began to spurt out into her
tiny cupped hand.

   It was then that the nausea hit me.  I had no idea what to do, so I
grabbed the garbage can and puked my guts out.  The little girl just
watched me throw up while she continued to contort her body until nothing
more was coming out of herself.  Then she asked, "You eat bad food?" All
that I could do was to shake my head while the dry heaves racked my body.

   The pain and nausea finally subsided and I wanted to sleep.  What I
really wanted was a shower but I didn't have the strength to crawl to the
bathroom.  "My name Natalia," the girl volunteered.  I started dry heaving
again as soon as she said it.  Then she said, "Mister, you got be in
banyo." I knew what she meant and nodded.  With that, this little
ten-year-old named Natalia helped me to make my way to the bathroom.

   How someone her age could know exactly what to do was completely beyond
me, but she did. She turned on the water in the shower so that it was
slightly cooler than room temperature.  Then she helped me into the tub. 
It felt wonderful.  When I started to feel better, she adjusted the water
so that it was warmer.  Then, when I closed my eyes to relax, she took off
her top and climbed in to lay down with me.

   Natalia's back was bruised and scarred from what appeared to be a belt.
Someone had been repeatedly whipping this little girl.  Everything else
left my mind when I saw that.  All that I wanted, needed, to do was to hold
her and comfort her.  I asked, "Who did this to you, honey?" My eyes were
welling up with tears.  Natalia's angelic little face didn't change.  She
smiled and answered, "My police man do this if I not make enough money."

   While laying in the tub with Natalia, I learned that she was an orphan
who was working as a prostitute for one of the local police.  She'd only
been doing it a few days, but her uncle had first raped her when she was
only four.  It was shortly after her father found out about his brother
when Natalia was thrown out to live in the streets.  That was when she was
seven.  She told me many things about Brazil.  She explained that girls who
would not work for the police were usually killed by them.  She had been
lucky to live to be so old without having to work for one.  She told me of
her many friends who were sick.  The symptoms resembled AIDS from what she
described. I probably should have been worried about that for myself, but I
didn't think of that until several months later.  By then, I knew that I
was safe.

   Natalia didn't leave my side for the next few days.  I took her
everywhere with me.  I also stopped at several of the nicest shops and got
her clothing and several suitcases.  It would take a bit of work, but I
figured that I would be able to get her into the States if I bribed the
right people.

   I know that it might sound heartless, but of the forty-one girls who I
managed to get to Mexico, only seven tested negative for AIDS.  I paid a
storekeeper quite well to keep them well taken care of, but I didn't have
them brought across the border.  The seven who did test negative, I had
sent across.  By the time that they got to Colorado, I had naturalization
papers for all of them as well. Brazil isn't the only place where bribes
can make a difference.

   It didn't take much to find a Hispanic couple in Denver who were willing
to take care of one of my houses, along with seven little girls.  Getting
them registered for school would prove to be much more difficult.  The
school year had just ended, and none of the girls had any formal education.
They had learned all that they knew in the streets of Rio.  I soon found
that tutors were the only answer.

   It took the better part of a month for the girls to really feel
comfortable in their new surroundings. I'd explained the importance of
`behaving herself' to Natalia, and she in turn explained it to the rest of
the girls.  Tsi Tsi, who was only seven had almost blown the whole thing
when she offered sex to Mr.  Menendez.  Fortunately, one of the other girls
caught her in time and convinced him that she was just having a hard time
understanding English.

   It was the July fourth weekend, and I had to go to my camp and formally
open it.  I proudly announced, "Camp Moose Porter is officially opened!,"
as the scissors cut through the ribbon. There were cheers and shouts from
everyone who was there.  There were four Greyhound busses in the lot, and
plenty of other cars.  We even managed to pull some news coverage from
channels two and six in Denver.  It looked as if things were really going
to work out.

   I'd decided early on that young married couples would make the best camp
councellors.  I figured that they would be much less likely, to try to get
into a high-school student's pants, than single people of the same age
would.  There were ten rooms in the councellors' cabin and I'd made sure
that there were twenty councellors.  That meant two councellors for every
cabin.  That meant one councellor for every eight kids.  It all worked out
about right as far as I could figure it.  It left two of the cabins open
for special groups or functions too.

   Dinner the first night was fantastic.  There was fried chicken, roast
beef, french fries, mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, broccoli, green
beans, and just about everything else that a kid could want.  Hell, it was
as much as any adult could want!

   Marty was the man of the day.  I'd insisted on that.  He was reluctant
when I'd asked him to be there for the opening.  He gave me some excuse
about not feeling comfortable in crowds, but changed his tune when I said
that something might go wrong.  Being there to fix a problem was different.
He agreed when I told him that.  All that I wanted was for him to be there
to receive the praise that he deserved.

   It felt good to raise my glass in honor of Marty.  I said, "To Marty,
who's diligent work and wonderful carpentry skills made all of this
possible!" There were cheers in the main room. Everyone was eating and
enjoying themselves.  Marty blushed at first, but then I think that he
started to enjoy all of the attention.

   I'd limited the first group of campers to kids who were between sixteen
and eighteen years old. I'd figured that they would be certain to find any
problems, but mature enough to tell someone about them when they did. 
Strangely enough, there were no real problems the first night.  I'd
expected at least a stopped up toilet in the bathrooms, but that didn't
even happen.

   I guess that it was nearly ten o'clock when Marty stopped by to say
goodnight.  I offered him a room in my cabin, but he said that he should be
going.  He said, "Gary, I took care of that camera thing . . .  It's all
squared away in yur closet . . .  Just press 333 and away she goes." I had
no idea what he was talking about, but I thanked him anyway.  Then I gave
him a bonus check for twenty-thousand-dollars and he left.

   Tired, I was indeed tired.  I hadn't been that tired in months!  I made
one last pass through the camp, thanked all of the counsellors, and then
returned to my cabin to go to sleep.  Before I did, I looked in the closet
to see just what Marty had been talking about.  There was a keypad, but I
had no idea what it did.

   "Did he say 333?," I thought.  I tried it and the back panel opened up.
I was looking at a twenty-seven inch monitor.  I removed a remote and
turned the unit on.  Yep, It was the view inside of cabin number one
alright!  The up-arrow brought me the second view of the same cabin.  I
continued to press the button until I'd gone through every cabin.  Not only
did I have a clear color picture, but I also had sound!  It would have been
a voyeur's dream if it were anyone other than kids!

   I was still having trouble accepting what I'd done to or with Natalia.
Yeah, I knew that she was better off because of it, but I still couldn't
accept the fact that I'd actually cum inside of a little girl.  I mean,
it's not natural for a grown man to get off on little girls.  At least,
that's what I'd always been told.  That's how all of the laws were written.
It had to be something wrong, or the laws would have been written
differently, right?

   I managed to figure out that pressing 333 on the keypad again would
close the console.  It was kind of fun to have, but I didn't think that it
would ever come in handy unless there was a real emergency.  I chuckled a
bit and then headed off to bed.

   Oh that fucking bugle!  How had I let Simmons talk me into letting him
blast that fucking thing at seven o'clock in the morning?  My eyes felt
like they'd been pasted shut with mud.  It must have been the same mud that
had been put in my mouth while I was asleep, or at least that's what it
tasted like.  I took my time getting dressed and then headed to the main
building for a cup of coffee.

   There was a clatter of dishes and silver as the kids walked down the
chow line for their morning feeding.  The hum of happy conversations and
laughter was a welcome sound.  It meant that things had gone well.  I was
greeted with a chorus of, "Good morning Mr.  Porter," as I walked through
to the kitchen.  I returned the gesture and waved on my way through.

   Tom and Betty Mason were two of the counsellors who I'd picked for their
cooking skills. They'd been up since five so that breakfast would be ready
at seven.  I said, "Outstanding work," as I filled a cup with the rich
Columbian mud.  The couple beamed and thanked me.  Tom said, "Looks like
your camp's a success." I nodded and said, "I hope so . . .  I remember how
much fun I had at a camp like this when I was a kid." Betty turned and
said, "Me too, but there were no heated restrooms when I went to camp as a
girl!" We all laughed a bit and I replied, "You think that's a bit much,
eh?" Betty shook her head and said, "If you only knew how nice that is for
us girls!" Betty had every right to call herself a girl.  She was all of
twenty-two, and could have passed for seventeen if she'd wanted to.

   Tom, Betty, and I talked for a while and then I headed out to see what
was scheduled for the kids. I looked on the board and saw that Archery and
Canoeing were the two big events for the day. There were always to be two
distinctly different activities on any given day.  They could not both be
water events either.  I didn't want some kid who was afraid of the water to
miss out because he or she didn't like to swim.

   With a fresh cup of coffee in me, and another in my hand, I walked back
to my cabin to pack.  I hadn't really planned on staying the first night,
but did because the activities went on longer than I'd expected.  The
little suitcase that I kept in my trunk for such occasions had come in
handy more than once.

   I pressed 333 on the keypad in my closet and the image of cabin number
one came into clear view.  It evidently worked automatically once I removed
the remote from the holder.  Scanning the channels proved boring at first.
Then, when I was looking from the fireplace view in cabin number seven, I
saw something interesting.  One of the boys was going down on one of the
girls in a big way.  He had her bent over the bottom bunk and was doing her
furiously from behind.

   This deserved a bit of sound, so I increased the volume.  The boy kept
repeating, "I love you Tammy, I really do," as he rammed himself into her.
I don't think that either of the two had noticed that another girl was
quietly watching them from her top bunk.  I certainly did though. Watching
the couple go at it did nothing for me compared to the nimble fingers of
the little brunette who was watching them.  She had part of a pillow in her
mouth and I watched her cum several times before the couple finally
stopped. The brunette bit the pillow hard every time that she came.  It was
a complete turn on for me.  I knew that it shouldn't have been, but it was.

   The couple got dressed and the girl in the top bunk lay silent until
they left.  Then, the girl also got dressed and left.  I scanned the
channels frantically in search of some similar activity, but there was none
to be found.  I had to leave anyway.  I was to be at the Menendez' place at
one o'clock to help Arturo with the girls.  They had been demanding to see
me for over a week, and I knew that I couldn't get out of it.

   The flight back was uneventful and the drive to the Menendez' was a lazy
one.  I was looking forward to seeing Natalia and `my' other kids.  The
image of Natalia's scarred back was a familiar one to me.  I just couldn't
imagine anyone treating children, or even animals, that way.  It made me
want to go back to Brazil and kick some ass.  Better judgement told me that
a dream was all that idea would ever be.

   Natalia was the first to greet me.  The door opened.  "Mister Gary!,"
she exclaimed and she jumped into my arms.  I hugged her and set her back
on her feet.  I asked, "How is everyone?" Arturo walked around the corner,
smiled, and said, "Everyone is good, Mr.  Porter." His wife, Maria, poked
her head over the balcony and said, "Hello Mr.  Porter." I waved to her and
said hello back.  Then the girls slowly emerged from all throughout the
house.

   Marta, who was the oldest at thirteen, walked down the stairs and said
hello.  She told me that there was something that she really wanted to talk
with me about.  I promised her that I would talk with her before I left. 
Julia, who was the shy one at nine years old, emerged next.  She came out
from the kitchen, said hello, and then disappeared back to where she'd come
from.  Anita and Tsi Tsi came out together.  They'd been watching
television in the den.  Anita was eight and Tsi Tsi was still only seven.
Morena, who had just turned ten when Natalia first introduced her to me,
had the most gorgeous blue eyes that I'd ever seen before.  Natalia's were
pretty, but Morena's were striking.  She sauntered down the stairs and said
hello along with the rest.  Last, but certainly not least, was Della. 
Della was the true cuddler of the bunch.  She was stretching as she walked
slowly down the stairs.  Although, at twelve years old, she had quite
possibly been the most abused of all of the girls, she was certainly the
most loving.

   Della lazily pushed her way through the other girls and wrapped her arms
around my waist.  She didn't say anything, but the look on her smiling face
when she tipped her head back and looked at me said more than enough.  Then
she pressed her head firmly to my chest and sighed a deep and contented
sigh that made me feel wonderful.

   From there we headed to the pool.  There were plenty of lounge chairs
and every girl seemed to have her own spot.  Arturo and Maria told me how
smoothly everything had been going.  They even had praise for the girls'
new tutors.  Maria went on and on about how nice it was to have so many
children in the house.  She wasn't able to have children of her own, so
this was evidently the next best thing.

   Marta didn't seem to be able to stop figeting.  I finally asked, "Marta,
would you like to talk now?" She replied, "It is personal Mister Porter . .
.  can we talk in my room?" The other girls taunted her a bit, but Arturo
raised his finger and they stopped.  I smiled at him and said, "Looks like
you know what you're doing, Arturo." He smiled broadly and said, "You have
to when you have nine sisters!" His heavy accent made it all the more
funny. Maria and I laughed, and then she gave him a peck on his cheek.

   I followed Marta to her room and sat on the edge of her bed.  She closed
the door quietly and sat beside me.  I asked, "What is it that you need to
talk about, Marta? . . .  Is everything ok here?" Marta nodded and said,
"Everything here is wonderful." Her English was almost as good as my own,
and was much better than Arturo's.  I asked, "Well what is it then, Honey?"
It was a question that I regretted asking almost as soon as I'd asked it.

   She asked, "Mr.  Porter, you know what I did every day when I lived in
Rio, is this correct?" I nodded and answered, "Yes, but you will never have
to do that again, Honey." Marta shook her head and said, "That is the
problem that I wanted to talk with you about . . .  I miss doing it
sometimes." I'd kind of prepared myself for the possibility that one of the
girls might say something like that.  I said, "Do you have a boyfriend in
the neighborhood, Marta?" She shook her head and said, "I tried it with one
of the boys here, but it is different . . .  I need a real man . . .  Will
you do it with me just once Mr.  Porter? . . .  I will never ask for
another thing if you will just do it with me only one time!"

   Oh no, not this shit again!  I was very calm and replied, "Marta, you
are like a daughter to me now, and I would never do anything that might
hurt you like that." She puzzled on my reply and then asked, "Will you look
at my naked body and tell me If I am desireable to you?" I already knew
that I found her desireable.  Hell, I thought that all of my girls were
desireable.  That was the problem!  I waited and then replied, "Marta, I
would very much like to make love with you . . .  I don't need to see you
naked to know that, but in this country it is illegal for a man to make
love with a girl your age." Marta had that one covered.  She said, "I know
that Mr.  Porter . . .  I am sorry and I would never want you to be in
trouble because of me . . .  I just know that I want to feel you, a real
man, inside of me."

   We could have gone on like that for hours.  I had my reasons and Marta
had hers.  She made one last statement before I left her room.  She said,
"Mr.  Porter, I will never make you do it, but I want it very much . . . 
Do you know what I mean?" I nodded, stood up, and said, "I want it too,
Marta, and that's the problem."

   When I returned to the pool, Maria had gone back inside of the house. 
Arturo was still in his chair.  His chest was puffed out like a proud
rooster.  "Well Mr.  Gary, did you solve Marta's problem?," he asked.  I
replied, "No, but I think I can in a few minutes." Even though Marta's
English was outstanding, she was basically illiterate.  She couldn't
understand a simple sentance on paper.  I told Arturo that I needed about
an hour with Marta alone so that I could teach her how to understand words.
He nodded and said that he knew that Marta was very self conscious about
not being able to read or write.  Then he offered to take all of the
children and his wife to a movie so that Marta and I could have the house
to ourselves.  I insisted that it be my treat, and off they went.  Marta
hadn't moved from the edge of the bed where I'd left her.  She slowly
raised her eyes and looked at me.  I barely nodded.  With that, Marta ran
across the room, threw her arms around me, and said, "Thank you Mr. 
Porter! . . .  Thank you! . . .  Thank you!"

   We waited a few minutes and checked the house to make sure that everyone
was gone.  Then I extracted a promise that Marta would truly work with her
tutors and admit that she couldn't read or write.  She was reluctant, but
did eventually give in.  I gave in as well and began to undress in her
bedroom.

   Marta wasted no time and stripped down to nothing before I had even
taken my pants off.  Her juvenile body looked ripe and enticing.  Seeing
her small breasts and pouting little nipples gave me an immediate erection.
The whispy thin matt of fine peach fuzz in her loins was also incredible. I
hurriedly removed the remainder of my clothing.  Then I lay on my back and
waited to see what she would do.

   Marta sprang into action and tried to position herself directly over my
swollen cock.  I told her no and rolled her onto her back.  Then I lowered
my lips to her breast and began to gently suckle. Marta squeaked and moaned
as I kissed my way from one breast to the other.  I dragged my tongue along
her firm and tender skin until my lips surrounded the puckered flesh of her
immature nipple.  Her reaction was automatic.  She arched her back and
moaned loudly.  I felt her nipple forming under my tongue as I slowly
lapped and kissed it.  It became firm and full in my mouth. Marta was
absorbed in the sensations that my mouth was giving her.

   A musky scent soon filled the room, and I felt compelled to massage het
tiny mons.  My fingers glided through her soft pubic hair until I felt the
moisture between her legs.  With her back still arched from the attention
to her breasts, her hips began to move and sway at the touch of my hand. 
My fingers traced a path through her swollen crease.  Her eyes were tightly
closed, as she began to lick her bottom lip.  The small pink and wet tip
ran from one corner to the other.  It was more than I could take.  I had to
taste it.  I had to feel it in my own mouth.

   My hand was exploring the womanhood of this child, and I replaced my
mouth on her swolen nipple with a gently pinching thumb and forefinger.  It
seemed to have the same effect.  Marta's back arched and her shoulders
swayed.  Her hips rhythmically pushed to meet my every touch.  Her eyes
flew open as I ran my own tongue along her upper lip.  Her arms flew around
my leaning shoulders and she pulled against me tightly.  Our tongues were
instantly intertwined.  The soft tissues of the young girl's mouth were
warm and inviting.  She wanted me there.  The feelings that I was giving
her were new and loving.  Her eyes slowly closed and we continued to kiss.

   Marta's hips began to grind violently against the touch of my fingers.
She released her grasp of my shoulders and frantically tried to push my
fingers inside of her.  I didn't relent.  I kept massaging her engorged
clitoris and swolen labia.  Then, after several violent hard bucking
motions agianst my fingers, Marta relaxed and melted under my touch.  Her
eyes opened slowly and I felt her lips become a smile under my own.  I knew
that she was ready.  I knew what was to follow.

   Marta didn't speak until I got up amd positioned myself above her.  Then
she said, "Thank you," in the sweetest and most angelic voice imaginable.
She took my cock in her hands and gently guided me into herself.  She knew
what she was doing.  She made several passes with the head of my cock
through her crease.  And then Marta and I became one.

   Sinking into a heavenly cloud is the finest description that I can
compare to what Matra felt like. Her immature cunny was like a warm and
slippery velvet that seemed to pull me ever deeper into her.  Her eyes were
open and she watched me intently as I slowly inserted and withdrew myself
form her firm young body.  I didn't want to spoil the feeling by cumming. I
wanted to savor every sensation and learn every nuance of this girl's warm
and tender opening.  I watched as she did the same.  I watched Marta hold
herself back and bite her lower lip so that she could feel the head of my
dick slowly travelling the contours of her most intimate places.

   Marta held out several times, but finally couldn't keep from cumming. 
She struggled not to push hard against me, and I continued a very slow and
steady rhythm.  Her scream started out as a low and broken gasp, but became
a loud and violent shriek.  Her fingers dug deeply into my shoulders and
then I was awash with the wonderful feelings of Marta's body.  Her scream
continued for several seconds, and then she relaxed.  It was a familiar
theme that I hoped would continue.

   Marta had cum several times before I could hold back no longer.  The
slow and deliberate strokes into and out of such a soft and wonderful place
had taken their toll.  I told Marta that I was about to cum, and she pumped
at me furiously to catch up with my orgasm.  I watched her face strain, and
then relax as her orgasm came to meet mine.  I held back no longer and
allowed wave after wave of pleasure to wash over me.  We both jerked and
shook violently for the next few moments. I felt the last traces of Marta's
juices trickle over me as I shot streams of my own cum deeply into her.  I
tried to continue the action after I was done, but Marta pulled down firmly
on my shoulders and shook her head.

   I lay on top of the little girl and toyed with her ears for a while. 
Marta's soft voice broke the warm silence.  She said, "I never had it be
like this before." She was curling my chest hairs around two of her
fingers. The smile on Marta's face matched my own as I quietly said, "I've
never felt a woman as wonderful as you are, Marta." With my flaccid cock
still inside of her wonderful body, Marta said, "You help me with my
homework like this very often Mister Gary?" I couldn't help but laugh. 
What I'd just done was a terrible thing, but it felt anything but terrible
at the time.  I slowly nodded my whole upper body and said, "We'll see,
Marta . . .  We'll see."

   By the time that Arturo and Maria returned with the rest of the girls,
Marta and I were really working on her writing skills.  I had opened the
window in her room and turned the fan on to blow out the smells from our
sex.  Arturo and Maria seemed oblivious to anything, but the rest of the
girls all seemed to sense something.  Della just glared at Marta as if to
say, "You bitch!" I think that Natalia knew what had happened also, but she
just grinned and smiled at me.

   The rest of the day went fairly well.  Maria made wonderful dish for
dinner with shredded beef and cheese.  I don't know what it was called, but
we all ate more than we should have.  Arturo sat proudly at the head of the
table and watched the antics of `his' children.  By the end of the night,
each and every one of the girls told me that she wanted me to help her with
her homework just like I'd helped Marta.  Even shy little Julia and tiny
Tsi Tsi asked me to help them.  I'd expected it from Natalia more than the
others, but she was one of the last to ask.

   I spent the next few days reading up on Pedophilia.  It was a bit more
difficult than usual, since I couldn't really ask Michelle to get me the
books on it.  What I found amazed me.  I found that it was quite common for
men and girls, often very young girls, to be intimate.  The major change
seemed to take place in in the United States right after women were given
the vote.  Whether to sucure positions for themselves, or to protect the
interests of their children was unclear.  What was clear was that voting
women didn't want men poking around in little girls anymore.  What had been
considered normal and acceptable behavior for thousands of years became a
criminal act overnight.  Maybe what I'd done wasn't such a bad thing. 
Maybe those thousands of years of genetic programming were still in me. 
Hell, I wasn't such a monster after all!

   With my newfound confidence and understanding of my behavior, I decided
that I was going to agree to the girls' wishes.  As long as it didn't hurt
her, I even planned on helping little Tsi Tsi with her homework!  What that
meant was that I was going to need to figure out a way to get the girls on
my own.  It meant that they were going to come with me to the camp in
between groups. I'd set up the group schedule so that there was always a
week between them for preparation and maintenance.  Two weeks away would be
just such a week.
::

   Arturo was reluctant at first, but when I told him that I really wanted
he and Maria to have a week's vacation in Mexico, he finally came around. I
knew that they both had family there and the airline tickets proved to be
just the extra incentive that he needed.  Although they were both
naturalized U.S.  citizens, they still wanted to visit friends and family.
It was settled.  The next step was to make sure that the camp would be
completely empty for several days.  Michelle took care of that one for me.

   I didn't really enjoy having to drive to the camp, but I wasn't
certified for a heavy enough helicopter to carry myself and the seven
girls. With all of their luggage, it would have had to have been a cargo
ship anyway!  Nonetheless we all made it.  I even learned a few Brazilian
songs along the way.  The girls all seemed more interested in the bathroom
than anything else when we first arrived.