Cathy Clark lay with her head in Wayne Moore's lap, her nose in his pubes, her hand slowly sliding up and down his firm erection. That Debra woman sat on his left and he was playing with her thigh, but Cathy had his cock in her hand. Wayne was her new meal ticket -- one that would keep her off some alien's menu. The price had been momentarily exorbitant, but she'd paid it, and she had no regrets. Wayne would certainly do until something better came along...

Wayne rubbed her flank, sometimes cupping a conical, pink-tipped tit. He had something on his mind; Debra knew it, but Cathy was concentrating on other things and hadn't noticed. "Cathy," Wayne said quietly, "tell me about your dad."

Cathy froze. Then, shaking it off, she lilted, "He's a dad -- just like any other dad, I guess."

"That's nice." Wayne and Debra shared a glance. "Tell me, Cathy, when did you first have sex?"

Again the pause, then a flippant, "Oh, I don't know -- I was young -- twelve? Thirteen?"

"Really? Was that your first sexual activity, or just your first fuck? Did you do anal sex or anything?" Wayne asked innocently.

Again the pause, then: "You don't want to talk about that -- it's not any big thing; I'm sure it can wait until another time," Cathy said brightly. "Why don't I suck you -- you'll enjoy that. I'm good at it." There was a tense edge to her voice.

There was an edge to Wayne's, too. "I'm sure you are. I bet you've been doing it a long time -- why don't you tell us about your first cock?"

Cathy eyed Wayne. He had his teeth in something or other and he wasn't going to let go. That Debra bitch was looking on, too -- she was in on it. Somebody had told Wayne something... She could lie -- no, probably not from the way he was acting. "I was eight, I think -- yeah, eight..."

Wayne was mostly barking up the wrong tree with Daddy; Daddy wasn't the problem. Oh, he was, later, but Cathy loved her Daddy, no matter what. Her relationship with her father was too close to let a little thing like sex screw it up. Besides, Daddy's problem was mostly Daddy.

Uncle Nate was another matter -- or maybe not so much -- it wasn't really clear to Cathy that she was ruined, or anything. There had been a recent media witch-hunt for child-molesters and they'd have LOVED to get their hands on Uncle Nate -- but a lot of it seemed to Cathy to be people trying to make a buck off the Catholic Church and generate a media frenzy to keep ratings up. Sex sells in any form. She'd watched some group from one of the major TV networks play fish online and lie to them and get them to commit to a meet so they could film it and make big bucks off it -- and she felt sorry for the poor losers they went to such lengths to entrap. Other situations made her laugh -- such as a young sixteen-year-old male and his parents coming forward to accuse a female teacher of 'molesting' him -- twice! Such bullshit! To a sixteen year old guy, an older woman who wants to fuck is a gift from God, not a molestation! As for Uncle Nate, Cathy wasn't sure whether he ruined her life or merely prepared her for it...

Uncle Nate had always been there; Cathy was pretty sure Uncle Nate had changed a significant percentage of her dirty diapers. Uncle Nate was Dad's more flamboyant older brother. Somebody said Dad met Mom through Uncle Nate -- which probably explained why Mom was never in the picture; Uncle Nate went through women like Grant went through Richmond. There was always an Auntie around -- Auntie Sheila with the nipple rings, and Auntie Vickie with the tattoos, and Auntie Floozy -- well, Suzy, actually, but Uncle Nate got such a kick out of calling her the other thing. Uncle Nate's bedroom seemed to have a revolving door.

Uncle Nate had a big in-ground swimming pool and a hot tub -- and clothing was ALWAYS optional for adults and never required for kids. He threw a party just about every Friday night and Tuesday was Poker Night -- and Cathy was around for plenty of both of them, because Dad's second job was at night. Uncle Nate kept his shorts on, mostly, but Aunties ran around in just about anything -- or nothing -- and party guests ran the gamut. Cathy probably saw her first penis before she had any clear memories, but for a good long time, their only purpose was to send a stream of water into the toilet (or on the ground behind a tree, or whatever -- beer consumption at parties tended to outstrip the available bathroom facilities). Cathy spent a lot of time naked and a lot more in just a diaper or training pants her first three or four years or so -- and nobody had fits about it.

Then she went off to nursery school and kindergarten and everybody had rules -- and Uncle Nate told her that it was the smart thing to abide by them and not make waves in public because "there is an asshole waiting to screw up your day waiting behind every bush." Cathy learned early that expressing herself the way Uncle Nate did tended to cause an uproar; in some circles, it was an occasion for laughter, but in others, it led to condemnation. Cathy learned that if people got upset hearing things Uncle Nate had to say, they probably didn't want to see her naked. That pretty much got her by.

About the time she was six, things started to change. Uncle Nate continued to take on Aunties, but they tended to come with children -- notably girls just a few years older than Cathy. They tended to stay longer and didn't seem to be quite the same class of hard-edged party animal, but the fights when they left tended to be louder. Uncle Nate seemed to win all of the arguments, though.

Naked swimming became the rule, though, instead of an option -- even Uncle Nate did it -- and he tended to play with the kids a lot more. Cathy didn't mind -- she had kids to play with. There was a lot of slap and tickle and splash and giggle -- it was all fine.

The summer after she finished second grade, the lid came off and she discovered sex. It happened on Poker Night; Uncle Nate and four of his buddies were sitting at the poker table, smoking cigars and playing cards, as usual. Auntie Beth was running beer and chips -- and getting felt up a lot because she was wearing a short skirt and a halter that let her low-slung titties sway. She would bluster and take a swing at anyone seriously grabby, and Uncle Nate and whoever the perpetrator was would laugh. Cathy had seen this kind of thing before -- usually the auntie ended up going off to spend the night with someone else other than Uncle Nate. It was also many times a signal that there would be a new auntie, soon, but Auntie Beth had already come back twice.

Cathy had learned long since that if you never even LOOKED at the cards, you were allowed to hang out as long as you weren't much of a distraction. She'd spent half the night sitting on Uncle Nate's lap, on occasion -- not lately, though; somebody else always seemed to be there, these days. She reached up and filched a pretzel from the bowl on the table and queried, "How come only guys smoke cigars? Why don't girls?"

Pete, the garage guy, snorted. "They smoke, but they have to have it filtered. Most of 'em smoke White Owls." There was a general chuckle.

"Does Auntie Beth smoke White Owls?"

Uncle Nate snorted. "Regularly."

"How old do you have to be to smoke?"

Pete opened his mouth, but Uncle Nate frowned and shook his head, and he closed it. But a moment later, he grunted, "She's gotta learn, sometime. You savin' her for something? Of course, you'd have to answer to Dick for it..."

Dick was Cathy's Daddy. Pete's comment didn't settle well with Uncle Nate -- first, he glared at Pete, then he turned his attention on Cathy and sat there considering, chewing his cigar.

What Cathy got from it was that she was old enough -- or at least on the border. Hope flared. "Am I old enough, Uncle Nate?"

No doubt Nate would never have taken the next step but for Pete's carping comments. As far as Nate was concerned, his younger brother was a wuss. Besides, he'd half-raised the little slip -- wasn't it time he got some benefit? Looking around the table, he grunted, "Let's finish this hand. Whoever wins the next hand gets to teach Cathy how to smoke a White Owl."

Auntie Beth got this blank look on her face. "I think I'll go work in the kitchen."

Uncle Nate spat out a tobacco scrap he'd pulled from the end of his cigar. "You do that. Send in Desiree -- she can pass shit around."

Auntie Beth locked eyes with Uncle Nate for a moment, then dropped hers and turned away, muttering, "Yes Nate."

Big Mike chuckled and grunted, "Woman's got no backbone at all."

"She don't need a backbone," Uncle Nate retorted, "She needs her three holes -- and to know when to open and close 'em. If she doesn't have a backbone, then I can bend her whichever way I like while I'm using 'em." That got another general chuckle.

Desiree came in while they were finishing the hand. Desiree was a taciturn eleven-year-old brunette with little puffy nipple-peaks on her chest -- and not much else. She didn't say much to anybody -- but she seemed to like Uncle Nate -- she spent a lot of time with him these days, and any time Uncle Nate wanted something, she was quick to do it. "You two skin out of your clothes," Uncle Nate ordered while Pete dealt. "You won't need 'em for this."

The hand was more spirited than most had been recently. Cathy crawled up on Uncle Nate's lap, frog-naked, to watch play. Desiree frowned, but uncle Nate waved at Big Mike and she went to sit on his lap. Big Mike seemed to think she needed bracing; he used one hand to hold her chest. "Pull the second one from the right and toss it," he told Desiree. Desiree pulled the card and discarded it so he wouldn't have to use the hand he was holding over her right nipple.

Uncle Nate rubbed Cathy's chest and belly, "So you're a big girl now? It's time to do big girl things? How old are you again?"

"I'll be nine next month," Cathy declared.

"You know, Punkin, big girl stuff ain't always what it's cracked up to be," Uncle Nate drawled.

Cathy took offense. "You sound just like Daddy!"

"Hey, I warned ya." He gave her a little squeeze. "Be quiet now, so I can play."

Things looked good for Uncle Nate -- but Gizmo Frawley from the power company had three queens. "I'll be goddamned!" he crowed when it came time to call.

"Probably," Uncle Nate told him. "This 'un is blood -- you be fuckin' careful, get me?" he warned Gizmo.

"I got it, I got it," Gizmo waved it off. Gizmo was bald on top, but kind of shaggy around the fringe, an orangey-red color mixed with grey. He had big, thick fingers, but was generally cleaner than Pete -- and Cathy had sat on his lap a bunch of times. She had no fear as Uncle Nate set her feet on the ground. "Uncle Gizmo will let you smoke his White Owl. Desiree, teach her how." Desiree looked blank, so Uncle Nate waved her to him and whispered in her ear; she limited herself to, "Oh," and went over to Gizmo, taking a position opposite Cathy.

Gizmo started shucking out of his work pants. Cathy looked up at Uncle Nate blankly, so he started to explain, "Like Pete said, cigar smoke is strong stuff -- it needs to be filtered for girls. Guys filter it, but you have to work to get it out, so smoking is a lot different for girls. Show her, Desiree."

By then, Gizmo was out of his pants and his boxers were down around his ankles. He settled back and took a puff of his cigar, and Desiree settled between his knees and took his cock in her hand and directed it to her mouth.

Cathy watched, wide-eyed. This was smoking?

"Men filter the smoke naturally, and turn it into something girls can deal with, Punkin," Uncle Nate amplified. "You have to suck on his dick like we suck on cigars and run your lips up and down it and tickle it with your tongue and stuff -- and when you've made Gizmo good and happy, the stuff inside will squirt out so you can taste it. Right, Desiree?"

"Right." Desiree backed off and nodded.

"Go ahead, Honey -- give it a try," Gizmo coaxed. Desiree backed out from between his legs and Cathy settled in. "Show me?" she asked.

Desiree looked worldly. "You have to kind of pump it," she explained, sliding the skin up and down Gizmo's cock so it's pinkish-purple head popped into view and disappeared. "You know about pumps, right?"

Cathy didn't, really, but she wasn't going to admit it. "Oh, okay."

"You have to pump and suck -- don't bite! -- and you'll know you're doing it right when Uncle Gizmo gets all excited. Once it's pumped up, the stuff will squirt out and you swallow it. Okay? Take a suck," Desiree directed.

Cathy lowered her lips over Gizmo's cock to the sound of a general stir. Big Mike came around to watch, rubbing Desiree's chest. Uncle Nate and Pete had front-row seats already, on either side; Arch Fox got up and came over to watch, too. Cathy, all proud that she had an audience for this important adult rite, started sucking.

It wasn't bad. Cathy slid the skin back from the puffy head and rolled her lips over it and Gizmo groaned -- but she knew he liked it from the sound. She bobbed up and down a couple of times like Desiree had, then backed off. "It's sure big!"

There was a general chuckle -- which Cathy didn't understand (Gizmo ran to about five inches long) -- but Desiree said, "You know you're doing it right if it gets big and hard."

"Okay." Cathy went back to work. It took a while. Gizmo held her head and pushed his cock into her some, but Uncle Nate made noises and he let go. Still, in a couple of minutes, Gizmo got all tense and gasped, "I'm gonna cum!" -- and in a few seconds, his cock pulsed and spit goo in her mouth. It was thick and gooey and it tasted weird, but Cathy decided it was okay. "That's it?" she asked, backing off.

"Yep," Uncle Nate nodded. "You just smoked your first White Owl."

Cathy looked around. Desiree was smoking Arch; Pete and Big Mike were apparently trying to pump out their own goo. Uncle Nate told Desiree, "Go get your mother and bring her back here -- looks like we're gonna have a party..." Desiree got up and left. Uncle Nate's cock was standing up out of his shorts as he beckoned her. "Come here, Punkin, and we'll talk about it." He settled Cathy on his lap, straddling his cock. "As you can see, you've caused some excitement. Now we're going to need to get everyone smoked out, because men get excited watching a woman smoke and want her to smoke them, too." He pointed at Big Mike. "As you can see, Big Mike has a Black Owl. We're gonna have to let Auntie Beth handle that." Auntie Beth, who was just entering the room, opened her mouth, but Uncle Nate barked, "Get naked -- all the girls are. Take care of Big Mike and don't give me any lip." Auntie Beth stepped out of her skirt and panties and undid her halter and knelt before Big Mike, who fed her his Black Owl. Uncle Nate snapped his fingers and pointed, and Desiree went back to smoking Arch. "Okay, Punkin," Uncle Nate told Cathy, picking her up off his lap and setting her on her feet, "show Uncle Nate what you've learned."

"Hey, what about me?" Pete whined.

Uncle Nate pointed at Auntie Beth. "Stand her up and use the other end." Auntie Beth turned her head and opened her mouth, but Uncle Nate grated, "Want to swap ends? Are you cut, Mike? How about some nice, mixed-breed kids, there, Beth?" Auntie Beth tried to swallow Big Mike's cock while all the men laughed.

Cathy knew what Pete was doing. "That's fucking, right?"

"Right, Punkin. Time to suck," Uncle Nate told her, and pulled her head to his lap.

Uncle Nate took a lot longer than Gizmo -- but he gave Cathy a lot of instructions on how to make it better, too. By the end, she knew she'd been tricked, more or less -- one of those adult things -- and that the purpose of it all was to provide men pleasure. Now that she knew how, she could expect to do it again, obviously. Uncle Nate promised to show her some fun stuff later, too.

Auntie Beth pissed Uncle Nate off somehow while Cathy was busy; he had Pete and Arch pick her up and drop her on Big Mike's cock a bunch of times. Eventually, they let go and she pumped up and down on it herself for a while, making noises that Cathy couldn't decide were happy or not, until Big Mike grunted and blew his goo into her pussy. She spent the rest of the night looking like she was trying to decide whether she was mad or not -- then Uncle Nate sent her home with Big Mike.

Uncle Nate sent everyone else home and took Cathy and Desiree up to his bedroom. He explained that she was too young to fuck, but he licked her pussy and fingered it and Desiree showed her how to make Uncle Nate happy with her ass. Cathy didn't do that then, but by the time she was ten, she was accomplished at it ---and she was fucking at twelve.

That was when the shit hit the fan with Daddy. He came home early one evening to find Cathy and Uncle Nate fucking like bunnies on the pool deck and threw a fit. Uncle Nate was more than mildly pissed that Daddy INSISTED that they stop right in the middle of a fuck... "Jesus Christ, Dick! She's a little blonde slut, just like her mother -- what's the big deal?" Cathy took no offense -- it WAS the truth, after all. But Daddy went on and on about it... "He's just jealous," Uncle Nate told her. "Get him to fuck you and he'll settle down." Cathy figured it wasn't a simple as that, but it WAS an idea.

Daddy ranted and raved and blamed himself and apologized for this and that and tried to figure out what he could do about the whole thing -- but the truth was, there wasn't much. Daddy couldn't turn in Uncle Nate -- he owed him too much. Cathy cuddled up and let him whine and cry and piss and moan and wear himself out -- then she seduced him.

It wasn't hard -- all of Daddy's pussy was Uncle Nate's cast-offs, and there hadn't been much around lately. Auntie Beth was long gone -- something Uncle Nate laughed about, since she ended up living with Big Mike for a year and a half before he handed her and their half-breed kid off to some buddy of his. Desiree had hung around after her mother moved out and had put up with three or four interlopers -- younger and older -- until about the time she was fourteen and a half, then she'd announced one day that she was leaving, and hit the door. It was one of the most amicable partings between a woman and Uncle Nate that Cathy had ever witnessed.

Cathy was dessert for Uncle Nate. He taught her things -- advanced stuff -- slowly, when he felt like it. She wasn't a main squeeze -- it was more like he was bringing her along slowly as a prot�g�. If she wanted to party, he let her -- but he kept an eye on her and didn't let her get into anything too deep. But he was on sabbatical, more or less -- there was no current Auntie, and hadn't been for a month or so. That was why he'd decided to fuck Cathy -- and why Daddy hadn't had a piece in a while, either.

Cathy waited until Daddy had exhausted himself and his well of self-pity and cuddled up to him while he got good and drowsy. Then she suggested that he get undressed, helped him, tucked him in, waited five minutes and slipped off her robe and slid in under the blankets with him. She put his hard on in the crack of her ass, put his hand on a conical tit, and let nature take its course.

They were already fucking when she rolled him onto his back and threw off the blankets so she could ride him reverse cowgirl, and he was blowing his nut in her before he recognized the dimples over her hip bones. Another bout of caterwauling ensued, but it was hard for him to stay upset with her being sweetly reasonable about the whole thing; besides, he was exhausted from the first round.

The next morning, she awakened him before the alarm with a blowjob. He was horrified, of course, and made an effort to escape -- but Cathy acted devastated that he was spurning her -- and he'd ALREADY fucked her -- so he accepted the inevitable.

But it didn't set well. Fucking with Uncle Nate was just good, clean fun -- but fucking with Daddy, while necessary, periodically, to keep him from going off the deep end, was fraught with negative emotion, before and after. When Cathy moved out, it was to avoid Daddy, not Uncle Nate and his games.

Cathy ran down, uncertain why she'd bothered to blurt all of that. Debra was giving her this 'poor thing' look. "What?"

"You've been through a lot," Wayne muttered.

"I'm fine. I'm not broken or anything. Lots of people have a lot worse things to deal with than anything I had," Cathy insisted. "I'm not one of those sissies who claims they're ruined forever because I sucked a little cock. Hell, it was fun at the time and more fun later! People in third-world countries catch that kind of crap all the time!"

"You have to admit that it has changed your world view," Debra argued.

"Growing up under Uncle Nate? Probably. Sex? Probably not," Cathy argued. "Maybe Uncle Nate forced other girls -- and other women. Hell, I'm sure he did. But he never forced me."

"He lied to you," Debra replied.

"Pete lied to me." Cathy waved it off. "It was a prank -- no big thing."

"Cathy," Wayne argued, "Your CAP scores say otherwise. AI?"

"Actually, Cathy may be correct. Her psychological data says she witnessed sexual abuse, and lived in an environment where women and sex were commodities -- but did not actually participate in any abuse and was never a direct victim," the AI responded. "Many sponsor households will be similar to Cathy's experience in that concubines have defined roles that include sex and subjugation; however, sex with children is prohibited in sponsor households. Cathy's example may be instructive in the maintenance of a supportive environment for raising children, but she lacks some of the prime markers for abuse. Notably, in her opinion she was NOT abused. Whether we agree with her or not, her perception of the situation is pivotal. If she honestly believes that she was not abused, then she was not, from a functional standpoint, despite the objective evidence.

"She could be in denial," Debra argued.

"Her physiological responses suggest otherwise," the AI replied. "There are exceptions to every rule, and Cathy appears to be one. In your society, child molestation is currently a popular subject of sensationalism. The data indicates that while there is always a certain amount of this activity going on at any particular moment, there has not been an increase sufficient to merit the level of attention being focused upon the issue. The data indicates that in your culture the general public is being manipulated by politicians and the media to create a distraction that will allow them to meet other goals."

"Such as?" Debra quirked an eyebrow.

"In the case of the media, the search is for market share; sensationalism of this nature draws viewers with a prurient interest," the AI replied. "The political motivations include justification for certain invasions of personal privacy and other freedoms and the use of sensationalism to secure elected positions."

"Well, shouldn't these people be caught and controlled?" Debra asked.

"Certainly," the AI agreed. "The question is one of priority. Are these people the number one issue on the work lists of law enforcement officials? The data suggests otherwise. The culture you just left believes in a high degree of personal freedom for its membership -- but your government has been presenting a case for the idea that certain groups are not worthy of these protections and should not receive them. Public sentiment, created in part by the media, is that these adjustments to eligibility for the rights of citizenship can be ignored. Analysis indicates that this position has been taken in error, and that once the government establishes adequate precedent for intrusive activity in one area, it will likely spread until it is an oppressive situation for the general populace -- but is irrevocable. Legal codes tend to be flawed, as they are created by individuals pursuing private agendas -- that is one reason why the Confederacy does not sanction any particular type of local government. Laws intended to help the majority tend to result in gross injustice to the exceptions; a complete analysis of the circumstances is usually a better guide for the creation of justice than blind application of legislation. A case in point -- a major media outlet created a series of programs in which they lured individuals over time into a situation in which they arguably intended to create a sexual offense and were arrested. Effectively, they manufactured a sex offender where there was none previously, as there is no objective indication that the offender was looking for youth, but merely an interest in sex. There is no age limitation for looking for sexual partners in your species' male genetic makeup, and procreation is based upon individual factors of biological preparation in the female, and occurs regularly as early as age twelve in some locations -- yet individuals who appear at a location to examine a female whom they have not yet seen are arrested for attempted sexual molestation before they can make a determination of the female's actual viability as a sexual partner, based upon a deliberate misrepresentation of the female's age and the legal fiction that all females should remain untouched sexually until an age at which historically your females may have had several children."

Debra rubbed her forehead. "Did you get all that?"

"I think so," Wayne nodded.

"I did," Cathy interjected. "Basically, it said that these guys were roped in because they were horny, not because they were looking for a kid to molest. I was hot to trot at age twelve -- I had B cup titties and a nice fur patch, and everything was working. If I went to a chat room and tried to set up a date with a guy who couldn't even see me and got him all hot and bothered over a couple of weeks, he might blow off my age based on the fact that I wanted it. But the cops would haul him off to jail because I wasn't eighteen. These guys went one further, since the chick didn't even exist."

"I remember those," Wayne muttered. "They bothered me, but I couldn't put my finger on why. They talked about luring the guys over a couple of weeks -- and the excerpts from the e-mail conversations they were using as evidence of the guy's intentions were pretty vague, sometimes."

"Precisely," the AI agreed. "If they were honestly looking for child-molesters, they should have presented them with someone who was obviously biologically a child; instead, on some occasions, they presented a female who was perhaps young but physically nubile -- or none at all. This is classic entrapment, and has its precedent in police prostitution stings. It is unclear why most of your jurisdictions passed legislation declaring prostitution illegal when it provides an important social function; however, once again, there is a correlation between aggressive police activity against prostitution and the timeframes of your elective process. In many cases, the offenders were actively looking for prostitutes and associating with them, but in a significant number of cases, the policewoman involved was actively salacious, presenting obvious signs of sexual receptivity and drew in individuals who were NOT actively seeking a prostitute but saw an unforeseen opportunity for sex by her efforts, effectively creating an offense -- and an offender -- where there were none."

"So, where were we?" Debra asked.

"We were examining the possibility that despite her age at the time of her initial and subsequent sexual activity, she may not have functionally been the direct victim of sexual abuse, although she certainly was, technically. There is ample evidence in her testimony that her uncle is a sexual offender and perhaps a predator -- but in her specific case, there is little evidence that she is a victim, largely because she does not consider herself to be one. Should her uncle be incarcerated for his actions against others? It is highly probable. But in Cathy's case, the Confederacy, taking all of the evidence into account, would be unlikely to order any punishment for those specific acts."

"So you are saying that what he did should be legal?" Debra accused.

"The assertion is that the law concerns itself largely with acts, not motivations or circumstances. An act may be illegal yet appropriate for the situation, and an act may be illegal, yet not damage anyone. While we would agree that his acts were illegal and were not appropriate, there is no evidence here that Cathy was damaged."

"I agree," Cathy noted stubbornly. "Uncle Nate hurt others, but he never hurt me -- maybe because I was family, I don't know. If I found sex early, it's because I got there myself, mostly. Now can we PLEASE get on with whatever ELSE we're gonna do tonight?"

"Fine," Wayne sighed. "Why don't you start smoking?" He waved at his cock. Cathy grinned and rolled her lips over the tip.

"I don't like it," Debra complained. "It seems like we're justifying something wrong here."

"Well, you don't have to -- it's all over with, anyway," Wayne replied, intent upon enjoying his blow job.

Cathy popped her mouth off his cock. "I should tell you about Eli, sometime."

"Eli?" Debra queried.

"Yeah. Skinny Jewish kid from school, same age as me. Dark hair. Eyeglasses. A little too pretty for his own good. Somebody invited him over to swim -- Desiree, probably. I didn't see it, but he discovered cocks, somehow. I don't know who started him, but he loved the stuff. I learned anal from Eli. Big Mike used to hold him up in the air using his arms for a basket under his knees and run him up and down..."

"Spare me!" Debra held up her hands. Cathy grinned and went back to sucking. She would be fucking Wayne tonight -- and she was going to give that old bitch Debra a run for her money!