Wesley's Bizarre Adventure Episode 9: Yuri Camp

You are Wesley Keki, purveyor of things cute and funny, and evacuee.

Renee peels off her bloodied blue latex gloves. She steps on the pedal at the bottom of the biohazardous waste bin, unhinging its lid, and tosses the gloves inside. She picks up Alabaster's chart and makes some notes to herself.

Then the hard part. She pulls a stool to the bedside and waits.

It takes a couple hours for Alabaster to awaken. His bleary eyes and dry lips part, he looks dazedly up at Renee. She smiles.

"Ophie," he rasps. "Where--"

"Whitney's taking her to the campground," Renee lies. Best to keep him calm for the time being. "Amber and Wes are already there."

Alabaster's tense expression dissipates. He nods, settles, reposes a little easier in his gurney. The rain is still coming down like hell outside.

"I died..." he says after a moment.

"No, you didn't. Didn't even come close, in fact."

Alabaster's voice is croaky but his gaze is as full of vitality as ever. "No. No, I died... I'm looking at an angel..."

Renee takes a puff of her cigarette and blows the smoke in his face. Alabaster grimaces, coughs. "Fucking -- goddamn it," he grunts. He waves a hand through the smoke to dissipate it. "That is... the last time... I ever compliment you."

Renee swivels in her stool, reaches for the countertop, and gathers some ice chips. She swabs Alabaster's chapped lips, cooing at him.

"How bad is it?" Alabaster asks. He hesitates to pull his covers back.

"Just a flesh wound!" Renee says.

"That's the wrong reference if you trying to put me at ease." He takes a moment to wiggle toes and fingers. "Still have my limbs, at least."

"Buridan had birdshot loaded in his gun. You took worse damage from the wood splinters off the door. No vital organs punctured, but you did lose a lot of blood -- nicked an artery."

Alabaster shakes his head.

"You seem pretty upset over surviving a shotgun blast to the chest," Renee says, pulling away, throwing the remnants of the ice chips back in the cup. "What's on your mind?"

"He took so long to answer... and when he fired, he had birdshot in his gun? ... No coincidence. He... reloaded his gun with something nonlethal, when he saw me standing at the door." Alabaster locks eyes with Renee. "He wasn't trying to kill me."

"Why do you think that is?" Renee asks.

"They want me alive. The Instrumentalists. To... rebuild Sand Reckoner..." He fights back a momentary revulsion that manifests as, literally, bile rising in his throat. "Not just me. They weren't actually trying to kill Cerise, either. And David... they could have killed David -- they didn't. They... could have killed my girls... they didn't... they want us all alive. And working on Sand Reckoner..."

Renee takes another drag. "Well, tell them to go fuck themselves."

Alabaster closes his eyes. "It doesn't," he says. "It doesn't all work out. Does it."

"It will," Renee promises him.

---

Just outside Palo, you all transfer to a Winnebago, a vehicle better equipped for making such a long journey. It isn't too much later when N-Mom gets a call from Aunt Renee, with the news that Dad's injuries are relatively minor (for someone blasted in the chest with a shotgun) and that he'll recover.

You have approximately 42 trillion other problems right now, but somehow this makes it feel as if every other problem went away, too. No one you love is dead. Anything else can be weathered.

K-Mom drives, with N-Mom in the passenger seat to helpfully bitch at her:

"You wanna slow down on these turns? It's not like we're on a mountain or anything."

"No. I don't want to slow down on these turns, point of fact. I'd go even faster if this friggin jalopy would let me."

N-Mom turns a sickly shade as the Winnebago swings through another hard jackknife turn. You try not to look out the windows on her side because what you'll glimpse is what she's glimpsing, a sheer fall down a rocky cliff face, with only the thin sheet-steel of a guard rail to protect you all from doom. K-Mom takes perverse pleasure in making N-Mom squirm on every curve.

"Don't be such a wuss," K-Mom says. "I'm hardly pulling 50."

"30 would be nice," N-Mom says.

"65 would be even better. We need to lose some weight if we want to hit a better cruising speed, though." She glances back, sweeps her eyes across the motley group of riders. "We could ditch your new teenage girlfriend for starters. She's got a fat enough ass. Bet we'd gain a few MPH off that."

Sitting at one of the tables in back, Summer smiles at K-Mom from over the top of a hand of Go Fish. "You don't wanna toss me out. Who's gonna go fishing with you?" She means a more literal " go fishing" here -- Summer said she wanted K-Mom to teach her how.

"Yeah," K-Mom grumbles, unenthused.

Winter scrunches her face up, contemplating her cards. "Have any sixes?" She asks at last.

"Go fish," Summer says.

Winter pouts. It's cute. But the truth is, Summer's hand runs about 10 cards deep after a particularly unlucky turn, and you can see, standing over her shoulder, that she has a six. "What the fuck, Summer," you say, tipping her hand forward so that it's visible to Winter.

"You've got to be effing joking me!" Winter groans. "You can't lie in Go Fish!"

"Says who? Says you?" Summer says.

Winter tosses her remaining cards down. "This sucks. I wanted to play cribbage, but noooo. If you're not even gonna play by the rules, I won't play any stupid games with you at all."

Summer also tosses her cards down. "Fine by me," she says. She sneers at you. "Traitor."

"Cry more," you shoot back. "Cheating at Go Fish is, like, the most pathetic thing."

"Sorry, honey, but your girlfriend is right," Liz says. She's standing over by the little stall door leading to the bathroom. It's occupied. She knocks, for maybe the twentieth time. "Talia? Are you done in there yet?" But no answer comes.

Amber grasps for the discarded deck. But, being seated at the table across the Winnebago's central aisle, she can't extend her reach far enough. This is because she's still tethered to Vivian by a pair of handcuffs, who stays immovably in place and peering pensively out the window to their left. The handcuff's links jangle.

"I--gh-- fucking-- goddamn it."

"Need help?" You ask.

"Not from you. Olivia. Get me those cards."

Olivia sweeps the cards up, not bothering to orient them all in the same direction, and hands them to Amber. Amber sighs in exasperation.

"Those are my cards," Winter says, snippy. (But what else is new?)

Amber points at the table. "Then sit your ass over here."

"Why?"

"You want to play an actually interesting card game or not? Jeeesus."

Winter gathers herself up and goes to sit across from Amber -- forcing Olivia to scoot.

"What's the game?" Winter asks, as Amber works to reorient and shuffle the deck.

"Gin Rummy. The rules are simple. Even a tard like you can understand. You start with--"

"Scoring Hollywood style?" Winter asks.

Amber pauses mid-shuffle. "Yeah. Sure."

Winter motions for Amber to deal. The game is on.

You figure you'd rather not listen to the verbal violence inevitably to ensue when those two play a competitive game, so you walk further towards the back of the Winnebago.

Will is vegging out with Amelia on the little sectional couch in the back, watching a Marvel movie on the Winnebago's 60" TV set. You're not sure which Marvel movie. They're kind of all the same.

"Haha. Man I love Rocket Raccoon," Will laughs, and literally points at the screen.

Amelia sighs. "This story makes absolutely no sense."

"Who cares about the story?" Will wants to know.

Back here there's a little L-shaped countertop and all the accoutrements of a home kitchen -- sink, oven, fridge, microwave. Auburn has a dish towel laid out over the countertop, and a pistol disassembled on it. "You must not have cleaned this thing... ever," he says, turning some of the components over in his hand. "You're supposed to keep your firearm maintained. That's one of the Guardian program's rules--"

"It's the ruuuuuules," Lily says mockingly. "Yeesh."

Auburn frowns at her. "It's the ruuuuuules for a good reason. You don't want your gun jamming when the time comes to use it. If you expect your weapon to take care of you, you have to take care of it."

"I know how and when to clean my piece," Lily says. "Not that I mind letting you do the grunt work. But you're getting seriously anal over a little grime here."

He takes a toothbrush to the disassembled barrel of the pistol. "Thank me later, then," he says.

"Thank you never," Lily counters.

You slap Lily in the back of the head as you pass her. It makes a satisfying ka-thunk. Lily spins, face a mask of rage: "cunt! If Auburn didn't have my piece pulled apart, I'd fucking shoot you!"

"Yeah, and if I had a dick, my name would be Gwen."

This completely disarms Lily. "What?" She says.

"...It's a naming convention my mom has. Forget it." You plop down on the couch beside Amelia.

"Did the Avengers avenge the MacGuffin yet?" You ask.

"Not yet," Amelia says, having to raise her voice over the explosions on-screen.

You nod. A beat passes. "Mind if I take a nap on you?"

"Go right ahead," Amelia says with a warm smile.

You curl your legs up onto the couch and lay your head in her soft, supple lap. It's the perfect pillow, really -- such give and such warmth to it. She strokes your hair in the most gentle and soothing way. "Say, how about we go swimming when we get to the campsite?" She asks.

"Hmm?"

"Nothing."

A few moments later you fall soundly asleep.

When you wake up again, it's nearly dark outside, the sky a shade of deepening indigo. Amelia is sleeping now too, slumped back in place, snoring and drooling. There's something hard poking you in the cheek. But that was to be expected. What K-Mom might call a "known known."

Will is still rapt, slackjawedly staring at the screen, with Lily and Auburn now sitting on the ground at the foot of the sofa, equally enthralled. The Avengers are still avenging the MacGuffin, hours later.

The overhead lighting is dim, and, looking towards the front of the RV, you see that the girls up front are all asleep at the tables up there, too. The Moms are still bickering -- but more quietly, out of respect for the tired. How sweet... sorta.

Feeling somehow antsy, you break your own rule, turn and sit on your knees, and peek through the Venetian blinds behind you. Turns out K-Mom's speeding habit has gotten you there in under half a day. You're just in time to see the vehicle's headlights bounce off a big blue reflective sign that says: Vail - Elevation 8,150 Ft.

Vail. Fucking fantastic. Is there anywhere on the face of the planet more boring?

---

Liz is the first one out the door when you park, and races into a thicket as if fleeing an unseen killer.

"What's up with her?" You say, rubbing your elbow and stretching luxuriously as you step forth into the periwinkle twilight.

"Ms. Berenstoin's been hogging the bathroom," Will says.

You do a double take. "Still? She was in there the whole drive?"

Will shrugs.

You step past the other departing passengers to reenter the RV and and knock on the bathroom door. "Talia?" You say. You wait. You get no answer. You knock again. "Talia? Ms. Berenstoin? ... Snuggy Bear? ... Are you okay?"

"Yes," is her muffled response.

You wait for elaboration. None comes. "We're here. Are you coming out?"

But she doesn't answer.

You elect to give her space.

You survey the campground. It's a sort of cul-de-sac in the wilderness, situated at the end of a little dirt offshoot from the main path which branches to dozens of other campsites. You see, distantly, the firelight of other people camping in the area, and the many human-shaped silhouettes crowding around. Not exactly roughing it a hundred miles from all known civilization. To the south (uhhh -- you think) you can clearly spy the lights of the city of Vail all along the rocky mountain.

The campsite has several little dirt patches arrayed around a concrete burnpit -- designated spaces for tents. K-Mom is all industry as she retrieves the tents from the Winnebago's stowage and gets to work on setting them up. First she grabs each canvas bag containing each individual tent and plops them down in the spots where they will go. Then she starts pitching one.

"Can I help?" Winter asks, a genuine and childlike excitement tinging her voice.

"Someone should," K-Mom says. "I could use a hand."

Winter hops to, and works with K-Mom. It's odd how fast and efficient they are without verbally communicating. Is this the true power of camping?

"Liv, help me get ours set up," Amelia says.

But Olivia is busy squirting lighter fluid onto a pile of wood in the burnpit. An anxious Liz, already back from peeing, watches on. "I think that's-- I think that's enough-- Ms. Bosphorus?"

Olivia lights a match and looks Liz in the eyes. "Watch this. ... Bang!"

She tosses the match, and the resulting whoompf of flame almost literally blows the two women back. Liz shrieks in fright. Olivia is transfixed, though. Her eyes bulge and she giggles stupidly. Then, turning in a semicricle and calling to you all, she says: "Who wants s'mores?"

"Guess you'll have to pitch your tent yourself," you tell Amelia, snrking. She gives you a look. Okay, you deserved that.

"AAAH! SNAKE! FUCK!"

That would be Summer, yelling her goddamn head off, and prancing across the campground like a ballet dancer on hot coals, arms theatrically held aloft and cocked, dashing for the safety of the vehicle.

"Summer--" Liz calls. "Hold on-- I need some help with the--"

"I am going inside and I am STAYING inside. FOREVER," Summer announces. She slams the Winnebago's door shut behind her.

"Pussy," Winter and K-Mom call, both at the same time.

Auburn carefully studies the instruction manual for his tent. But Will is more gung-ho about it: "stop reading, Eggbert. Just help me put this thing together."

"Do you know what you're doing?"

"It's a tent. How hard can it be?" So confident. But moments later, Will is flummoxed, considering two black aluminum poles in one hand and a wad of tarp in his other, unable to reconcile how they will form a free-standing structure. "Brant! Help me already!" He shouts. When Auburn stoically stays in place reading the manual, Will begins to beat him about the head and neck with one of the poles, and they get into a somewhat prissy slapfight.

Something bites you on the arm. You swat, and think you miss. Soon the itching starts. Happy day.

As your ears finish popping from the gain in elevation, you can hear birdcall (it's night. Go to bed already.) And the buzz of mosquitos (fuckers. You'll kill them all.) And the even louder buzz of cicadas (they're annoying enough in anime. Now, trapped in actual nature, where no quick scene transition will come along to deafen them, they're truly maddening.)

---

You're inside the RV again. It's much nicer without the thrum of cicadas in your ears.

Plus: A/C. God that feels good. You cool yourself further by tugging repeatedly at your collar. It's so damn muggy outside -- you're sweating like a pig after just a few minutes of it, and this is at night. The daytime is going to be so gross...

N-Mom is in the driver's seat. Summer is in the passenger seat.

"Welcome to the Nature Sucks Club, recruit," N-Mom says. She salutes. "I'm your captain."

"Aye aye!" Summer chirps, saluting as well.

"Aye aye," you glumly echo, and give a listless salute in turn.

A pebble tinks against the windshield. K-Mom is gesticulating wildly outside. "Get out here, you lazy shits! Help us set the tents up!"

N-Mom responds by sticking out her tongue. Winter, beside K-Mom, ups the ante by sticking out her tongue and pulling at her eyelids.

"What an awful little girl," N-Mom says.

"Tell me about it," Summer mutters.

K-Mom swings around to the driver's side window. N-Mom rolls it down. "I'm going into town for supplies," she says. "Unless you want us all to forage for berries and mushrooms in the woods?"

"I--"

"That's sarcasm, Kay. I'm being sarcastic. Don't speak."

"Do you want Macca's or T Bell?" Summer asks.

"You will NOT bring fast food back to this campsite," K-Mom says.

"Yeah, well, when I took a poll, the vote was pretty clearly for food of the fast variety," N-Mom says. "Take it up with the other happy campers if you don't like it."

"Carl's Jr.?" Summer asks, as if this is the middle-ground between McDonald's and foraged woodland mushrooms. Ever the negotiator, she is.

"I'm serious!" K-Mom says. "I will flay you both! Now we passed Dick's Sporting Goods about a mile back -- you should be able to find some nice cooking gear there. And some meals you can cook over a campfire -- chicken pot pie, sausage and potatoes--"

N-Mom is rolling the window slowly up.

"NOELLE VIOLETTA KEKI! YOU ROLL THAT WINDOW BACK DOWN RIGHT NOW!" But K-Mom's threats go ignored, and her shouting becomes more and more muted.

N-Mom swivels in her seat to regard you. "Mickey D or Taco B?"

"On top of everything else going on, I'd prefer not to have diarrhea too," you say.

"Carl's Jr.," Summer says. "Gotcha."

"Are you coming?" N-Mom asks. "Or do you want to placate the less cool Mom by building tents with her."

"I--"

"I won't be mad," N-Mom adds.

You fold your arms. "Uh huh. Actually you'd be pretty damn happy, I bet. Getting some alone time with MY girlfriend."

Summer grins at you from ear to ear.

"What about Talia?" You ask, jerking your head in the direction of the bathroom.

"She'll come out of there when she's ready," N-Mom says. "In the meantime, we could all use something to eat."

"Yeah," Summer agrees. "We really, really want to eat."

(She doesn't have to make it so goddamn obvious by stroking N-Mom's leg at the same time. Jesus.)

[ ] Stay and help the girls pitch some tents.

>[x] Get something good to eat with N-Mom and Summer.

You look from N-Mom to Summer. Both seem eager for you to leave, and this makes you resolute in your decision not to. Instead, you sit yourself down -- right in Summer's lap.

"Oof," Summer grunts. She needs a moment to adjust with your weight on her.

"Let's get some food," you tell them.

N-Mom frowns. "A-yep..." She pulls the RV in a tight circle and heads back out towards the highway.

She might be more than a little aggrieved to have you tagging along, but Summer isn't fazed at all. Of course. Summer is a complete slut for both of you, so having one Keki woman or another makes no difference in her mind.

She runs her hands up and down your sides. Rests her chin on top of your head. Being so much shorter than her has its benefits... you do like being doted upon. But it makes this dynamic all the stranger: "my knight in shining armor," she whispers.

She still calls you that. And it's not the first time she's done it even today.

"I didn't really... do... anything," you remind her.

She just hugs you tighter.

"I'm getting Taco Bell," N-Mom announces. Probably her petty way of getting back for raining on her Summer fun. Summer must sense the dourness here too, because she says: "cheer up, Noelley-belly. You can still bang me in the bathroom when we get there."

N-Mom coughs. Then, feigning laughter, she says: "Haha -- all right -- whoa! What a... what a joker, you are... uh..."

"Mom. Stop," you tell her. "I know you and Summer are still fucking. I accept it. See? Look at how much I'm accepting it."

N-Mom grips the steering wheel so tight the leather squeaks and, red-faced, she keeps her eyes firmly on the road ahead. That being the case, Summer sees an opportunity here to fool around with you. Horny bitch. Her loving little touches become something much more forward and lewd. She rubs your thighs, gropes your tits, smells your hair -- tickles you through your shorts and panties. You'd love to sit back and enjoy letting your girlfriend molest you, but it's happening right beside your mother, and that makes you so much more nervous than usual. The slightest noise or movement will catch her attention and give you away.

"You're so sticky," Summer whispers hot in your ear.

Well, she means sticky with sweat -- it's true -- but you're sticky in another way, too. And she's well aware.

"Wanna get in bed with me?" Summer asks. There are beds in the very back of the RV -- a tiny compartment containing two sets of bunks. Behind closed doors, you would have privacy. N-Mom would know exactly what you're doing, of course, but she wouldn't see it -- and how could she possibly have the temerity to say no to your fun?

You stand. You and Summer are still holding hands, but Summer hasn't gotten up yet when N-Mom asks, "where are you going?"

"I was... gonna lie down," you say.

"Me too," Summer says.

"No," N-Mom says.

You pull your hand from Summer's and, indignant, you throw your arms in the air. "What? You have got to be fu--"

"We're almost there," N-Mom says. She can't meet your eyes. "You shouldn't sleep until we're back at the camp."

You huff, completely at a loss for words. Is your mother really this childish?

"Noelley-belly-jelly," Summer giggles, leaning across the gap between seats, practically lying in your mother's lap. "We're not going back there to sleep, silly." She puts her lips to the side of N-Mom's face, but her whisper is purposely loud enough for you to hear, too. "She wants to fu-ck." With an obscene emphasis on the word fuck, for effect, so that it comes out almost like a two syllable word.

N-Mom is just as stern, though. "No."

Summer pouts. "Don't be like that."

"You can fu-ck, when we get back." She pushes Summer's face away, forcing her to sit back upright in her own chair.

Summer won't be deterred. "But I'm so horny," she says, coquettish. She spreads her legs, and the fabric of her skirt spreads with it, growing taut and rising up the expanse of her tan thighs. "I don't want to wait that long. I need someone to get me off."

N-Mom gives her one quick exasperated glance before shoving a hand down her skirt. One hand on the wheel, the other in Summer's underwear, she starts fingering your girlfriend right there on the open road.

"Mmm," Summer moans. She giggles and slides forward in her seat to grant your mother better access. "Thank you, Mrs. Keki." Like the submissive slut she is, that's all it took for her -- a hand slid down her skirt.

"That's MY girlfriend, MOM," you shout uselessly.

"You'll have to share her. Or didn't you already accept that?" When you make a frustrated noise, she adds, "go lie down if this bothers you so much."

Summer chews her pinky and gyrates against N-Mom's frigging fingers. She's already cresting a high wave towards orgasm... Summer's no quickshot either, but an experienced dyke like your mother is hard to measure up to.

Instead of retreating, you march forward and rip your mother's hand away from your girlfriend's body. The suddenness of it makes N-Mom grab the steering wheel and veer -- dangerous maneuver in mountainous terrain. She gasps in surprise and slows way down. Traffic behind the RV honks, then passes.

Meanwhile, you get on your knees in front of Summer's seat. "Ever hear of road head?" You ask.

She laughs sensually, a low "hmmhmm" of wicked intrigue. "You're gonna eat me out in front of your mom, Wes?"

"Why not?"

Summer has no objections. She quickly pulls down her cheetah print g-string and lets it hang from one baggy-socked ankle. There in front of you is that delicious golden-brown pussy you love so much, with its pinched-together lips and jelly-like soft squishy appearance, and its seemingly permanent glaze of feminine arousal, and its cocoa butter scent tainted by something altogether dirtier and more disgusting, which only serves to make your mouth water more. You can't begrudge your mother for being so hooked on this pussy, in the end. You're hooked, too. Chin against the faux leather seat, you latch your lips to it and start to feast. All the dinner you need, right here between Summer's thick legs.

"Oh fuck, Wes, that's good," Summer says. Her voice gets deeper when you pleasure her -- rougher. "You're such a dirty bitch."

She pets her own thighs and gyrates on your lips the same way she gyrated on your mother's fingers. You're proud of yourself for that. Whenever she juts forward, her tight little rosebud appears from between the fat cheeks of her ass, and you occasionally give it a kiss -- just a kiss, just to tease her. Sucking your girlfriend's cunt and kissing her asshole in plain view of your own mother is a new and thrilling perversion... you wonder how N-Mom feels, now that the tables are turned.

You get that extrasensory tingle of eyes watching you, and know she's having a hard time staying focused on her driving. This only encourages you. You put on a show. You bury your tongue in Summer's rubbery vulva, swab it all around her insides, and across her taint, and over her dark pink clit. You make noises like an animal in heat, exaggerating how wonderful it is to bury your face in Summer's pussy... but not exaggerating all that much, because fuck, it really is the best. Her sweaty, sticky, sweet little pussy is the fucking best. And eating it out like this, no foreplay, no window-dressing, just raw rapacious need, makes your own cunt ache for release. Even knowing Mom is watching, you reach into your shorts and masturbate. Both hands.

"Don't just lick it."

You're slow on the uptake right now, and don't process the words that just entered your ears. You're too busy pigging out and jilling off.

"Don't just lick it," N-Mom repeats.

You pull slightly back from Summer's pussy, face dripping her cream, and murmur "wha?"

N-Mom looks down at you. "You shouldn't just lick a clitoris. You have to suck on it, too. But gently. Like this." She purses her lips and demonstrates.

"I know how to eat pussy," you tell her. "I've been doing it a lot longer than you think."

It's true. She hasn't told you anything new -- you know how to give head, and you'll suck Summer off when she's closer to cumming. But with a mischievous giggle, Summer says, "listen to your mommy. She could teach you a thing or two."

"She--" you begin, but that's all you get out. N-Mom roughly grabs the back of your head and forces your face to Summer's pussy again. Your eyes go wide and you cough, having suddenly and accidentally inhaled Summer's cunt juice. The lack of oxygen and the aspirated girlcum makes you nearly faint.

"Don't blueball your girlfriend," N-Mom sneers, pressing your face repeatedly to Summer's genitals, as if using a sex toy on her. You try to pull back, hands against the front of the seat, but she's so much stronger than you give her credit for. And it's not like Summer's about to help. She's too busy getting off.

You start to lick and suck. Drinking down this fuckslop is the only choice you have besides drowning on it. But even as you strum your horny clit, you burn with anger. You'll get your mother back for this. She's not the only one who can play rough.

"Wes... oh, Wes... I'm gonna cum on your face," Summer breathes, turning her head side to side.  

"Suck her," N-Mom says, as if you need to be instructed. She forces you even harder to Summer's cunt, grips your hair even more cruelly. You suck. You purse your lips as N-Mom said, find her clitoris, and tenderly suck on it. Trapping it between your vacuuming lips, you prod it with your tongue, and feel it throbbing like you never have before. Summer wets on you. You feel the rhythmic pulses of her always so sloppy orgasm against your chin, neck, and front of your shirt. And as if you couldn't tell, she announces it, in a shrill wail: "I'M FUCKING CUMMING! YES! MAKE ME CUM ALL OVER YOU! CUMMING, CUMMING -- CUMMMMMMMMMING!"

All five of your senses become overwhelmed and your entire world winnows to just this lovely brown hole clamping and pulsing and squirting its cum from all your slutty efforts. You cum, too, and make a mess of your shorts.

When you regain your sense of time and space, Summer is panting like a tired dog. She's sitting all slumped back, legs still splayed, and you discover that at some point she pulled out her sweaty tits to play with her nipples. Slut. "That... was..." she says, but has no descriptive powers great enough to say what it was like.

You're also aware that the Winnebago has stopped moving. N-Mom is parked on the shoulder, watching the sloppy sight beside her, breathing almost as heavily as Summer is.

"I thought we were getting dinner," you mutter, wiping your face, and then licking your fingers.

"I... need..." N-Mom begins.

"Awww," Summer coos. "Are you horny too, Mrs. Keki?"

N-Mom nods, trembling.

"They're gonna wonder where we are if we take too long," Summer says.

You sigh. "It's fine. If you two wanna fuck, I can drive."

This snaps N-Mom out of her lust-induced daze. "What? No you can't."

"Yes I can."

"Not legally! You don't even know how!"

"Oh, and you're so concerned about legal. Anyway, I've been driving for years. K-Mom taught me how when I was 12."

"She did what?" N-Mom snaps.

You stand, still a bit woozy. "Be grateful. Because of my teenage delinquency, YOU get to have sex." When N-Mom doesn't move, you impatiently motion for her to get up. Finally, after moments of deliberation, she unbuckles her seatbelt and vacates the driver's seat. Her horniness has won out over her good sense, as it always seems to. Your Mom may just be the horniest girl you know, and that's a feat. You get behind the wheel and pull back onto the highway.

Summer makes no attempt to get herself decent as her eyes follow N-Mom, who's got the slinking prowl of a tomcat in heat. "Eat or be eaten?" Is Summer's only concern.

"Both. Get up."

She pulls Summer to her feet and hugs her, kissing her madly. The two of them make out together for a few moments, N-Mom shoving her mouth to the back of Summer's. But N-Mom is more interested in her other charms. She moves her face down and buries it against Summer's chest. She sucks on Summer's nipples, each in turn. Summer laughs, but N-Mom is in no mood for playful teases. She wheels in a quarter-circle and pushes Summer, hard, towards the table behind the passenger seat. Summer lands on her back atop it, sending playing cards scattering. N-Mom ditches her pants in what must be a world-record time and crawls on top of her.

Driving, it's hard not to pay more attention to the two of them 69ing. Your mother shamelessly gorges on the cunt you just got done eating out -- talk about an indirect kiss -- and humps Summer's face the way a man would fuck a pussy. She does the splits, one foot on either benchback, and pounds her messy cunt against Summer's lips and forehead and nose. The noises Mom makes sound like the suction device a dentist uses during cleanings, and she punctuates it with almost pained groans and moans of depraved pleasure. When your mother cuts loose, she doesn't hold anything back... it's pathetic, but also really hot.

Nor does their passionate oral lovemaking seem the least impeded by your pulling into the drive-thru.

"Hi welcome to Taco Bell."

You lean through the open window. "Yeah. I'll take a uhhhh..."

"FUCK, NOELLEY-BELLY! I'M FUCKING CUMMING AGAIN!"

"CUM FOR ME, BABY!"

"...I'll just take two of everything on your menu, if that's okay..."

"Um. Like. *Everything*?"

"SUCK MY SLIT! SUCK IT, SLUT!"

"Yeah. Is that all right?"

There's a long pause on the other end of the intercom. You take the chance to watch your mother and your girlfriend lezzing out. "You GUYS know they can hear you," you remind them.

"I don't care," N-Mom grunts, and that's all you get out of her before she's got her entire face planted in Summer's snatch again.

"Right..."

"Y-yeah," the guy on the mic says. "That's gonna be... um, $422.24... umm. Would you like to round that up to $423 a-and donate to our scholarship fund?"

"FUCK! FUCK YES!"

"What she said," you say.

"Ok. P-pull up to the first window."

When you do as instructed, the goggle-eyed teen boy at the window can't help staring at the scene behind you. He isn't alone. The entire night shift crew seem to have been under the impression that this was all some kind of prank, and are gathered behind him, half a dozen minimum wage workers, watching on as well. There's an awkward silence.

"Vacation?" A short, flat, peppy blonde girl in a visor and too-thick mascara asks by way of breaking the ice.

"Yeah."

"Seems like you're having fun," she says.

"$423," the guy at the register says. "Cash or... cash or card."

You fish around the center dash for Mom's handpurse, and finding it, you pass him the credit card. He processes the payment. "It's g-gonna be a f-few minutes... pull up to spot one... we'll be -- right out-- with the food..."

Again, you do as instructed. Since you have time to kill, and you're not under the obligation to drive, you approach the scene where Summer and N-Mom rut like bitches. You pull down your shorts and panties, too. Fingering yourself, you half-waddle to the edge of the table. Summer's head is hanging over it, and N-Mom is still humping it.

Summer notices you standing there playing with yourself. "Heh heh," she giggles, fingers against either of your Mom's thighs, your Mom's cunt dripping all over her. "You two are something else. Like mother like daughter, huh?"

"Uh huh," you grunt, swimming in pleasure, temples throbbing, mouth dry.

"Here, babe," Summer offers, and reaches up to finger you, even as your Mom resumes fucking her face. You don't stop masturbating, though. Your fingers meet and slide over Summer's, twist and entwine, rub and pinch, and work together to bring you off. It's at once intimate and very, very dirty. It doesn't take very long at all before Summer gets you to squirt, and you ejaculate all over her face -- as well as your mother's ass.

You can't help focusing on that, above all else: your mother's ass... so small, but so well-formed, not scrawny like yours, but cute and full for its petite size. The way the cheeks clap together almost hypnotically as she bounces herself up and down on Summer, the way her cute pink pussy creams itself, the way her dark brown asshole seems to wink at you... your mouth is watering... and you're cumming like a bitch. You can't help yourself. You want your mommy's pussy.

She's cumming, too. Mother and daughter cum in tandem, dousing Summer's face with Keki cream, causing her makeup to run like watercolor down a painter's palette. She guzzles and gargles is and giggles like a dumb slut.

You see some Taco Bell employees outside the RV door. "Bring it in," you call. You hardly break pace -- none of you do. As the workers come in like a troupe of soldiers resupplying the front lines, dropping off the bounty of food on the table opposite, rubbernecking and gawking the whole time, you and Summer and N-Mom just keep fucking.

When at last it's all delivered, and the lookie-loos are gone, and you've cummed yourself empty, you laugh, and shrug, and say: "better head back, huh."

"Can you drive, baby?" N-Mom pants. She isn't done eating yet.

"Sure..."

You don't bother to put your pants on as you get behind the wheel and put the RV into gear. But a voice ringing out in the night stays you:

"Wait! Wait up!"

It's that girl from before, the one with that weird mix of gothy and preppy. She comes running up to the RV's door. "There's one more drink!"

You open the door for her, still pantsless, and give her a quizzical look. She gets onto the first step and hands you a large cup of some sort of soda, the ice clattering around inside. She pauses there, to take one last long look at your impossibly horny mom and girlfriend, seeming to burn it into her mind's eye forever. Of course she has no idea the true depths of the depravity she's witnessed here.

She gives your pussy a lingering last glance too, and curls her painted lower lip, and chews it.

"Can I go?" You ask.

"I wrote my number on the cup. Text me if you wanna party."

She steps out. Neither Summer nor N-Mom seem to have noticed, and you think you'll keep this exchange to yourself. The last thing you need is to bring around yet another blonde teen bimbo for your mother to lose her mind over.

---

You all eat Taco Bell around the campfire. And you know what? K-Mom was right. This feels wrong. But bitch as she might, K-Mom herself is eating too, having snagged one of the protein bowls. N-Mom noshes a crunchwrap supreme beside her.

As usual after having her brains screwed out, Summer is especially clingy, and keeps herself wrapped around you like a blanket, nuzzling and snuggling with you. Sure, she might go to N-Mom for some carnal pleasure, but it's always you she comes back to for intimacy.

"You girls are just perfect for each other," Liz says. "You're so cute together."

Winter makes gagging noises.

"Stop," Liz chides.

Winter, barefoot, kicks Summer in the shins -- not hard, but not playfully, either. Summer sticks her tongue out at her, and then goes back to nuzzling you.

"Are those wedding bells I hear?" Liz says.

"Oh god no," Winter says pleadingly.

After a healthy application of bug repellent and the tireless work of Will and Lily to set up some bug zappers, you're relatively mosquito-free... but every once in a while one of the fuckers finds a path to you and bites you anyway. Those absolute cunts. How can you be of assistance in driving them to extinction? You will make this your life's mission. No joke.

Amber chews the handle of a plastic spork until it has a fine-tipped point and then tries to jimmy open the lock of her handcuffs.

"You won't succeed," Aunt Vivian warns her.

"Yes I will," Amber says, staring down at her manacled wrist in her lap and her ad hoc attempt at lockpicking. "Fucking bet."

Vivian shakes her head in bemused resignation.

"All right," Olivia says. "I've got something in mind! Ask away!"

Amelia blows a raspberry in the air. She isn't as into the game as Olivia is, clearly -- but she'll placate her girlfriend. "All right. Is it bigger than a breadbox?"

"Ummmmm."

Amelia already knows this is going to be frustrating, but she can't help being amused at it, all the same. She smiles in a beleaguered sort of way.

"How big is a breadbox?" Olivia asks.

This puts Amelia on the back foot. She actually isn't sure. "I -- I guess it would be just a little bigger than a loaf of bread. One assumes."

Olivia nods. "How big is a loaf of bread?"

Now Amelia is actively annoyed. "Come on, Liv. You know how big a loaf of bread is--"

"Loaves come in many sizes! I need to know exactly what you're picturing when you picture a generic loaf of bread! This is absolutely critical to my answer!"

Amelia, slumping her shoulders, traces the outline of an invisible rectangular prism in the air. Olivia watches intently. "No," she says at last.

"No what?"

"No to your question."

"What!"

"No!! It's NOT bigger than a breadbox! It's just a little smaller."

"My *goodness*," Amelia sighs. "Okay... well... is it something living?"

Olivia blinks, once, twice. "Mmmmmmmaybe."

Amelia closes her eyes and seems to be saying a silent prayer for death. When she opens her eyes again, she asks: "is it part of something living?"

"Yes!"

Amelia recoils slightly. She doesn't like where this has gone and she's hesitant as she asks, "is it... a part of me?"

Olivia claps, delighted. "You're so close!"

"Oh god," Amelia moans.

"You can see, like... every single star," Lily marvels, halfway reposing on her elbows. "Pictures don't do it justice, do they... this is gorgeous."

Olivia gets down beside Lily. "I can teach you the constellations. Do you know your star sign? Wait! Let me guess! ... Scorpio, right?"

"Uh -- yeah."

Olivia points so Lily can see her finger. "Look over here. See? That group of stars is Scorpius. Do you see the scorpion?" She traces the invisible lines between them. You couldn't possibly care less about bullshit like the Zodiac, but Lily is interested.

"Yeah. I think I see it."

"Really see it," Olivia says. "See it with your mind's eye." She keeps twirling her finger around and around, tracing the scorpion again and again. It seems to have an almost hypnotic effect on Lily.

"Ooh, do me!" Will says. He plops down beside them. Lily startles and gives him a mean look, but he doesn't notice. "I'm Aries."

"Hmm," Olivia murmurs. "Aries isn't visible in the night sky just yet. Sorry. You'll have to wait a couple months."

"Aw," Will says, genuinely bummed.

Lily dusts her elbows off and sits upright again. "Where you sleeping?" She asks.

"Whuh?" You say, somehow surprised to find she's asking you.

"Everybody claimed a tent while you were out at T Bell. Which one you sneaking into?" Lily points from tent to tent. "Your Moms are in the first one there. Then you have Tenta Denali. Then in the middle tent there are Liv and Mel, then Will and Auburn, and lastly you got Amber and Vivian. They're letting me bunk with them."

"Aren't we nice..." Amber mutters, still trying to pry open the handcuffs. Obviously this decision wasn't hers.

"Where's Talia sleeping?" you ask.

Lily shrugs. "In the toilet, I guess."

You sigh.

[ ] You're a mama's girl. Sleep with the Moms.

>[x] Get to know the future in-laws. Tenta Denali it is.

>[x] Spend some quality time with the lesbo bookeepers.

>[x] Nothing wrong about hanging out with the guys. Sleep in Will and Auburn's tent.

[ ] Your aunt should be kind enough to invite you in, too. Sleep with Amber, Lily, and Vivian.

When everyone pairs (or trios) off to head for their tents for the evening, you make the obvious choice of lodging with the Moms. Where the hell else would you sleep?

You unfurl your sleeping back on one side of the tent, and they unfurl theirs on their side. They're sharing a single sleeping bag -- it's big enough for two, but still, the idea kinda wigs you out. Being trapped inside a sleeping bag with anyone, even your spouse, just seems so claustrophobic. None of you tuck in, though. You keep a lantern burning on the ground between you and check the news out of Palo Alto.

"Storm's not clearing out," K-Mom says, watching the Doppler radar on her phone. "They're saying it'll last about a week. Economic damage in the tens of billions..."

"Think our house is still gonna be standing?" You ask.

K-Mom shrugs. "Worse comes to worse, we can move to Vegas. You know the one thing you'll never hear about Vegas? 'It rained too much.'"

"That's literally not true," N-Mom says. "Didn't your dad's car get wrecked in a flash flood?"

"He tried to drive through a puddle! Lo and behold it was too deep, and his car got totaled. A totally preventable misfortune that he brought upon himself. Like the rest of his life."

"Hey, is Ophie all right?" You ask, cutting through an incipient bitch-off. "Those Instrumentalist freaks think she's important, too. Shouldn't she be here with us?"

The Moms are silent for a turn. N-Mom finally offers, "I'm sure she's with Alabaster right about now. Total daddy's girl, right? He'll keep her safe."

You nod. There's another and much longer silence. And at last, all you can say to break it is, "this sucks."

"Wanna see Guy?" K-Mom asks.

You shrug by way of saying -- sure.

"Why was Sam so..." you begin, but can't put it into words. "Should we call Dad?"

"I don't think he's awake yet," N-Mom says. "Let's try him in the morning. It's been such a long day already."

You can't shake the feeling you're being stalled. But you're tired, it's true -- tired down to your core, tired in your bones, so tired you're almost dizzy, and the weight of your eyelids is too much to ignore any longer. You start to settle into your sleeping bag.

"You know we love you, right?" K-Mom says all at once.

You roll over, face them. "What? Well -- yeah."

"That's good," N-Mom says. "Because we do. We really, really do."

"If we lost you..." K-Mom says, "it would be like... losing the light. I think we'd shrivel up and die."

You nod. The words "I love you" have such cheap currency in a healthy relationship between parent and child, that sometimes you don't really grasp the meaning behind them. But here and now, you sort of do.

"That being said, please get out," N-Mom says.

"...What."

"Go sleep with your girlfriend tonight."

"You--"

"What your mother is saying is that we need some privacy," K-Mom explains. "You don't want to stick around in here with us unless you want to watch your parents hav--" she pauses, and then drops that line of reasoning. "Well, we're going to be bumping uglies now, just the two of us -- quality wife time. And I'm sure you'll be fine bunking with Summer tonight."

You leave the tent with your sleeping bag under your arm, grumbling and mumbling the whole way. Just where do they get off? Err--

You approach Tenta Denali (as it's been so Christened). But pausing at the zippered entrance, you're unsure how to proceed. How do you knock on a tent door? You try batting at it with an open palm a couple times, which does make a little noise. But you suppose it would be easily mistaken for a gust of wind, if the girls inside even heard it at all. So instead of simulating a door-knock, you try scratching instead. The squeal of your fingernails on the nylon tarp is loud, attention-grabbing, and unmistakably anthropogenic.

"What is that?" You hear a hissed voice from within, probably Liz's.

"Oh shit -- Mom, look, look at the shadow," comes a harried reply, also hissed, but definitely Summer. "It's a-- fuck, it's a bear! Fuck! FUCK!"

"It's probably a black bear," Winter says, not whispering, and not scared. "We just gotta make a lot of noise to scare it off."

"Winter-- Winter!!" Liz hisses.

"Let go of me-- hey-- YO, BEAR! GET LOST!"

"Oh god... Winter, Summer, get in the back of the tent -- go, get under the covers-- I'll get the gun--"

"Liz-- hey-- YO BEAR! GO AWAY!"

"Winter! Stop!"

"Uh," you say meekly. "I'm -- not... a bear."

There's a long silence on the other side.

"Wes?" Summer's voice calls out, no longer whispering.

"Hi," you say.

Summer unzips the tent just enough to poke her head out through a tiny hole in the material. The whites of her eyes gleam in the moonlight, the rest of her face dark and severe. "What the hell are you doing! Why are you scratching at our tent like a fucking serial killer! Are you an idiot?"

"Yeah."

Summer shakes her head. "Well, what do you want?"

"Can I sleep with you tonight?" You ask.

Summer steps aside, the door unzipped and fully open, before you finish saying the word "tonight."

"You know we're only going to be here for a few days, right?" You say.

"And why not live them in comfort?" Liz says.

Fair cop. But furnishing their tent with a wall-to-wall throw rug, hammocks, inflatable sofa, beanbag chairs, tablet tripod mount and speaker system to simulate a home entertainment center, telescoping lamps, and a kotatsu in place of a coffee table is... kind of overkill, in your opinion. The kind of thing K-mom witheringly calls glamping. Benefits of being a family of furniture (& flooring) magnates.

You can't deny that it makes their tent so much more inviting than the positively spartan setup the Moms have got. Maybe you'll make this your home base from here on out.

Liz has her tablet displaying the same Doppler radar K-Mom was monitoring. The radar shows all of north-central Cali bathed in a gyre of neon flamingo. This is the color it defaults to when green, yellow, and red don't properly cut it for depicting the severity of the rainfall.

"Our house is in a relatively low-lying area," Liz says, watching along with you. "I don't know if we'll have anything to come back to when this is all over."

"You can stay with us," you say, a convulsion of charity gripping you.

"I can shoot myself in the head, too," Winter says, settling in on one of the hammocks. "Doesn't mean I *will*."

Looking from Denali to Denali, only then do you realize that they're wearing matching pajamas: baggy button-up tops and elastic trousers, all made from carnation pink silk. Liz and Summer look right at home in these nightclothes, but Winter is visibly uncomfortable. She keeps tugging at the collar and she has her shirt's bottom buttons undone past her navel.

Liz plays the diplomat. "That's very sweet of you, Wes, but I have to wonder how your mothers would feel about it."

"I'm sure they'd be just fine with it," you say. Maybe trying to convince yourself more than anyone.

"Noelle would be for sure," Summer says. Then, winking, "I'm working on Kay."

"Kay likes me better."

"Shut up, Winter!"

"Make me!"

Summer's whipping hair follows her whipping head at a lag, as she turns your way, smiling frustratedly. "I can kick her out if you want. Do you want me to kick her out?"

"Try it, biatch," Winter calls.

"You wanna get slapped, Winter? I'll fucking do it!"

"Girls..." Liz murmurs. "If you keep acting like this, I'll kick you both out."

"Fine with me," Summer says. "I'll just go sleep with Noelle-bell."

"Let's stay here," you cut in.

You lay your sleeping bag down in an open spot near the kotatsu.

"Whoa! Hey! Excuse you?" Summer says, balled up fists on her waistband.

"What?"

She gives the sleeping bag a light kick with her bare foot, rolling it over itself. "A? It's barely past 2 AM. Secondly? Don't you want to sleep with me?"

You frown. "Firstly? This has been the craziest day of my entire life. I'm tired. B? The idea of sharing a sleeping bag between two people gives me the wiggins. For real."

"I'm not using a sleeping bag," Summer says, as if you suggested she was a satanist. She turns in a circle, indicating what in retrospect should have been obvious: "we're using hammocks. See the hammocks, babe? You didn't cum so hard that you went blind, did you?"

Liz coughs, and looks away, and pretends she didn't hear.

"Fine. How are we supposed to share a hammock?" You demand -- the practical question.

"First I get in..." She lies down on her hammock. Pats her tummy. "Then you get on top of me."

"God," Winter says. Although maybe not entirely out of disgust.

"How much do you weigh?" You ask.

Summer's expression goes from steamy to steamed. "You can't just ASK a girl something like that! Geez..." She squeezes that tummy of hers she was so recently petting, stares at it. "Why do you want to know? ... Do I look fat to you? Am I getting too fat? Oh god. I'm getting fat, and now you don't think I'm cute enough--"

"Og my God. You're fine. I just want to know if that shitty Ikea knockoff can support our combined weight..."

"It's not an Ikea knockoff!" Liz says. "And for your information, those hammocks can support up to 300 pounds."

"Better not try your luck, then," Winter says.

"You little shit!" Summer yells, tossing a pillow at her.

"How about a game before bed?" Liz asks. She sits down at the kotatsu. "Come on, y'all. It'll be fun."

You sigh deeply. You just want to close your eyes and go to sleep already... but Summer and Winter both go and sit at the kotatsu as well, so what can you do? (Well, if you were more assertive, you could beg off and lie down by yourself. But you're not more assertive. So.)

You settle beside Summer, and directly across from Winter. Strange to think, but this is the first time you've ever sat at a kotatsu. With your legs under the futon, you feel an overpowering warmth from the electric coil there, multiplied by being squeezed in so closely with Summer and her more than ample natural body heat.

Do you like?" Liz asks, petting the fine grain wood of the tabletop. "This is a type of furniture common in Japan. It's called a kotatsu."

"I bet she knew that," Summer says. "She watches Japanese cartoons like it's her job. These things are all over the place in them."

You nod.

"Nerrrrrd," Winter says.

Liz smiles. "Well I think it's just great that you take the time to appreciate other cultures. I'm always looking at what's popular around the world. Stocking exotic items is just good business... so? Is it as comfy as the cartoons say?"

"It's nice."

"Nice! Nice? Just feel this fabric. That's 2,000 thread count Egyptian cotton you're sitting under. With extra-thick batting, and seamless stitches. You don't get craftsmanship like this anywhere. I vet my suppliers, thoroughly. There's a ten-point inspection checklist I--"

Summer cuts in. "Mom. C'mon. Don't talk shop."

Liz stops fiddling with the futon's fabric. "Fine. I can summarize it simply enough. It's the squish you can't resist! -- Right?"

"Right--" you agree, and then stifle a gasp as, under the futon, Liz squeezes your upper thigh. That was a sororal gesture more than a seductive one, you're pretty sure... 90% sure... but it came so unexpectedly that it leaves your heart thudding. Maybe you're just a hopeless pervert.

"So what's the game, huh, ma?" Winter says.

"Poker," she says with a sly smile. She unzips a little travel case and produces multicolored stacks of poker chips and a deck of cards. Oh god.

"What kind of poker?" Winter wants to know.

"Hold 'em is pretty standard," Liz says. "Although if you girls want to learn Omaha Hi-Low or Razz, I'm happy to teach you."

"No thanks," Summer says.

Winter can't resist a chance to disagree with her sister. "I like Razz. We should play Razz."

Liz squints. "How do you -- did your father teach you?"

Winter nods.

"Of course... well, I hope he only ever used funny money with you."

Winter laughs. "With me? Sure. But he ran a weekly back-room poker game when we were up in Nome for a couple years. Mostly they played Razz and Hold 'em. I served drinks to the other players and helped Dad cheat by telling him their cards. He gave me 10% of the profit..."

Liz looks positively horrified at this revelation. "When you were in Nome? But you were only about 10 back then--"

"Yup."

"I am going to kill that man," Liz murmurs.

"Just deal," Summer says, obviously annoyed -- rare moment of taking Winter's side of things? "We can just play Hold 'em. It's easy." Then, glancing Winter's way: "You try to cheat me, and I'll kick your butt."

"You're the card cheat here," Winter says. Summer has no retort to that.

Liz passes you all $1500 worth of chips and sets the ante to $100. She shuffles and deals.

"No blinds?" Winter asks as she takes her cards and checks them.

"I don't want to make it too complicated. This is a friendly game."

"Pot limits?"

"Winter. This isn't a serious game. We're just playing and chatting. No limits."

"Ok," Winter chirps. "I'm all-in." She shoves her entire pile of chips into the center of the table.

"Goddamn it," Summer says.

"What's wrong? Too chicken to call?"

Summer seems to really consider it -- Winter's good at getting under her skin. But she folds after a moment of thought. Liz folds, too, and seems almost as pissed as Summer.

Winter tilts her head. "Looks like it's just you and me, Wesley."

"Uh huh." You glance at your cards, raising just the corner so you can see. Seven-deuce off-suit. Summer takes a peek too. And when you fail to immediately fold such a shitty deal, she nudges you. "Wes... you do know that's a bad hand, right?"

"Yeah. But if I lose, I get to go to bed. And if I win..." you trail off and glance across the table at Winter. "Call," you say.

You shove your chips. Instead of being chastened, Winter cackles in glee, and when you both turn your cards face-up, you see why. She wasn't bluffing. She has a pair of black kings.

Summer massages her face. "I told you... idiot."

"You're just too easy," Winter tells you. "Sometimes I think you like losing."

"Just get it over with," you tell Liz. She deals the flop, the turn, and the river. The cards come up in perfect order: 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 of diamonds. A straight flush.

"You have got to be kidding me--" Winter says.

"Looks like you just cheated death," Liz tells you.Winter's smile and optimism: gone.

The pot gets split, which means you each walk away with a measly $100 gain -- the antes that Summer and Liz contributed to the pot. This unexpected good fortune has prolonged the time you have before you can sleep, which sucks, but you smile to yourself at shutting Winter up. Now she's sullen and pouty. Less obnoxious that way. Cuter too.

"You really are your father's daughter," Liz tells her. "Gideon used to get so mad when I would luck out against him. What is it that he used to tell me..." She turns and winks at you. "You must have been born with a horseshoe up your ass."

You sputter.

"Pardon the French," Liz pleads in faux contrition, laughing.

"Just deal," Summer says, obviously annoyed -- rare moment of taking Winter's side of things? "We can just play Hold 'em. It's easy." Then, glancing Winter's way: "You try to cheat me, and I'll kick your butt."

"You're the card cheat here," Winter says. Summer has no retort to that.

Liz passes you all $1500 worth of chips and sets the ante to $100. She shuffles and deals.

"No blinds?" Winter asks as she takes her cards and checks them.

"I don't want to make it too complicated. This is a friendly game."

"Pot limits?"

"Winter. This isn't a serious game. We're just playing and chatting. No limits."

"Ok," Winter chirps. "I'm all-in." She shoves her entire pile of chips into the center of the table.

"Goddamn it," Summer says.

"What's wrong? Too chicken to call?"

Summer seems to really consider it -- Winter's good at getting under her skin. But she folds after a moment of thought. Liz folds, too, and seems almost as pissed as Summer.

Winter tilts her head. "Looks like it's just you and me, Wesley."

"Uh huh." You glance at your cards, raising just the corner so you can see. Seven-deuce off-suit. Summer takes a peek too. And when you fail to immediately fold such a shitty deal, she nudges you. "Wes... you do know that's a bad hand, right?"

"Yeah. But if I lose, I get to go to bed. And if I win..." you trail off and glance across the table at Winter. "Call," you say.

You shove your chips. Instead of being chastened, Winter cackles in glee, and when you both turn your cards face-up, you see why. She wasn't bluffing. She has a pair of black kings.

Summer massages her face. "I told you... idiot."

"You're just too easy," Winter tells you. "Sometimes I think you like losing."

"Just get it over with," you tell Liz. She deals the flop, the turn, and the river. The cards come up in perfect order: 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 of diamonds. A straight flush.

"You have got to be kidding me--" Winter says.

"Looks like you just cheated death," Liz tells you.Winter's smile and optimism: gone.

The pot gets split, which means you each walk away with a measly $100 gain -- the antes that Summer and Liz contributed to the pot. This unexpected good fortune has prolonged the time you have before you can sleep, which sucks, but you smile to yourself at shutting Winter up. Now she's sullen and pouty. Less obnoxious that way. Cuter too.

"You really are your father's daughter," Liz tells her. "Gideon used to get so mad when I would luck out against him. What is it that he used to tell me..." She turns and winks at you. "You must have been born with a horseshoe up your ass."

You sputter.

"Pardon the French," Liz pleads in faux contrition, laughing.

"Bet it's not the only thing she's had up her butt today," Winter grumbles. She folds her arms. "Slut..."

"Jealous much?" Summer says.

"Don't make me puke."

As Liz deals the next hand and you all ante up, Summer hugs you around the back. It's a perfectly G-rated expression of affection between two young lovebirds. Nothing at all untoward about it. Except for the fact that, underneath the cover of the futon, Summer's hand is snaking under the elastic of your shorts, over your tailbone, towards your ass.

Winter gave her ideas, clearly.

"Summer..." you whisper, but she talks over you: "ooh, I like this hand. I'm betting... $300." Meanwhile, her fingers are sliding between your crack, and finding their way to the defenseless pucker of your rear hole.

"Call," Liz says. Then turning towards you, "you just have to tell me. I'm so curious. Who asked who out first?"

You let out a squeak of pain as Summer slips her forefinger into your anus. Trying to compose yourself, you say, "I guess... I guess it was sort of a mutual thing... we asked each other out..."

"How cute," Liz says. When a silence descends, she nudges you. "It's your turn. Raise, call, or fold?"

"Uhh... f-fold..."

"You haven't even looked at your cards," Winter says.

"Yes I did."

"No you didn't!"

"I fold..." you say, gulping, as Summer's finger drives deeper into your asshole and starts to wiggle around.

Winter leans across the tabletop and grabs your discarded hand, turning it over. "Aces! What a fricking joke! Were you born this stupid or do you practice?"

"This is good news for you, isn't it?" Liz says. Under the futon, she reassuringly strokes your thigh, and caps it off with a motherly sort of pat. "Wes is probably just a bit sleepy right now. Aren't you? So don't get mad at her."

"Y-yeah... yeah."

Liz pats your thigh again.

And then she keeps stroking it.

"Liz?" You say.

"Hmm?"

She acts nonchalant, as if she doesn't even notice that she's still touching you. Her soft, smooth palm travels up and down the outside of your leg. And as you stare in fright back at her, she grows bolder still. She starts to pet you on the inside of your thigh, too. This is dangerous. For a couple of reasons: beyond the fact that your girlfriend's mom is now groping you, she has no idea that her daughter is currently fingering you, and vice-versa... if either of them realizes that the other is getting all handsy with you... it could be a long and sleepless night.

"I don't feel so good," you try, hoping that will be the excuse you need to leave the table.

Liz puts a palm to your forehead. Not the palm that's still, even now, tracing a path closer and closer to the loose leg-hole of your shorts. She smells like jasmine. "Yeah," she agrees. "You do seem like you're getting kind of hot."

"Aw, poor baby," Summer coos, drawing your head towards her body, so that your ears and the side of your face are resting on her bosom. Such false concern, from both women. Summer's middle finger joins her forefinger inside your stretched ass. Liz grips you firmly and pinches you just below the junction of your leg and crotch.

"I call," Winter says.

Liz takes takes the cue to deal the community cards. This requires the use of both hands. You find yourself, despite yourself, craving her touch again.

With Summer fingering you like this, you don't pay attention to the intricacies of the three-way play on the table. Your cunt is starting to really juice up and your panties are getting wetter by the second... it's all you can think about. Are you really so much of a degen that getting anally molested is enough to make your pussy cream? Guess so.

"You forgot the burn card, ma," Winter says, pissy, at the river.

"Oh my. You're right, aren't you. Sorry about that! I can be such a ditz."

"Geez."

"I guess I'm sleepy, too." She passes Winter the deck. "Here -- why don't you deal? I know you like doing it."

Winter smiles and is genuinely happy to be given the chance. Of course Liz only pawned that responsibility off so she could keep groping you. As soon as the deck is Winter's, Liz is right back to heavy petting underneath the kotatsu.

"Do you like that?" Liz asks.

"Oh yeah," Winter giggles, shuffling the deck in a show-offy way, ruffling them through the air in an arch between her palms, effortlessly cutting them together, making the noise of it echo off the tent's low ceiling.

But Liz's question was for you. She looks meaningfully at you and inches her slender fingers towards your dampened crotch. Her hand is in your pants now; she's asking you if you like it. Trembling, you nod. She smiles. Your head on the pillowy cushion of Summer's chest, you close your eyes and let these feelings overtake you.

Winter kicks you.

Your eyes shoot open, you grunt in pain. "What the f--"

"Sleep is for the weak. You don't get to give up until I take all your money."

"Yes. We'll keep you wide-eyed and bushy-tailed," Liz promises. She lightly scratches the fabric of your panties with her painted nails. Just enough to send electric jolts of ticklish pleasure through your cunt.

"Yep," Summer agrees, and jabs a third finger into your already stuffed anus.

Liz recoils slightly. She glances at Summer, who's kissing you on the side of the face and breathing hot in your ear. You stare back at Liz through bleary, half-shuttered eyes. And she understands. Although Summer hasn't noticed, Liz has -- that she isn't the only one touching you right now. She withdraws her hand from you.

"Unhh," you gasp, needy, craving for her to do so much more than only tickle you.

"Shh, babe, shh," Summer whispers, thinking she's the reason you made that noise. She gently prods your asshole and corkscrews her fingers as if to soothe you. It even works.

"You girls... are really too adorable," Liz says, voice catching. She pushes herself away from the kotatsu and struggles to her feet. "Excuse me. I need to go use the ladies' room." Your eyes follow her as she leaves the tent in a stupor.

"Lame," Winter grouses.

"Maybe you should go too," Summer says.

"Why? So you can have gross sex with your gross, sweaty girlfriend? Forget it."

Summer sticks her tongue out. While under the futon, she guides your hand towards her pajama bottoms. Without hesitation, you do as she bids, and play with her cunt for her. Unlike you, Summer has no underwear on, and you find her squishy pussy already dripping when you pet it.

"So bored..." Winter mutters. She lays her chin on her folded arms and blows the hair from her face.

Summer starts to thrust her fingers in and out of your hole. "Fuck," you say under your breath. It hurts like hell, but it feels really good, too. You didn't want Winter to overhear, but it catches her attention, and she gives you a strange look. Sitting up straight again, she says, "are you gonna be sick or something? If you throw up on me, I'll make you regret it."

"I'll be... fine..." you say.

Whether she can tell something lewd is up or not, you have no idea. But she gets an evil glint in her eyes, and a moment later you feel pressure on your crotch. Winter's sole is pressing down on the soft pad of your cunt. Not hard. But insistently enough to make sure you know it. You feel the arch of her foot and every individual toe against the damp cotton of your panties.

"You two love each other?" Winter asks.

"Uh huhhh," Summer drawls in a patronizing tone.

"Y-- yeah," you agree, although it's a struggle to get any words out. "We love each other..."

"That's *super* interesting, you know?" Winter says. She punctuates this by pressing even harder on your pussy, making it tremble and spasm. "'Cause we had sex just a few days ago. Isn't that cheating?"

Summer stops moving her fingers around inside you. "You..." As hard as Winter is stepping on you, Summer finally notices that there's someone else touching you. She flips the futon up to see. "Winter!! What the fuck!"

Far from being discouraged, Winter just keeps rubbing her foot on you in plain sight of her elder sister. "What? YOU can finger your girlfriend in front of everyone else, but I can't play too? Nazi."

"Is it true?" Summer asks you. You can't lie her, but you can't meet her eyes either, as you nod. It's true.

You think for sure that this is the end, a breach of trust you can't recover from -- that Summer is sure to break up with you over it. Instead, she clasps your face tenderly, leans over, and kisses you.

"Why'd I have to fall for a whore like you," she breathes. Her voice is dreamy. "Bitch."

You kiss her back. "You're not mad?"

"At you? How could I be? I'm fucking *your* sister, right? It's only fair..."

"I knew it," Winter says. "Amber's a dyke too. Of course she is."

Summer gives her a withering glare. "Says the girl who's playing with my girlfriend's pussy. You ever hear of the pot calling the kettle black?"

"I was -- just messing with you two freaks," Winter says, shrugging theatrically. She draws her leg away, albeit hesitantly. "I wanted to see your reaction."

What you say next is directed at Winter, although you maintain eye contact with Summer the whole time. "I didn't tell you to stop." The grin that spreads itself across Summer's face is all you need to let you know that she's on your same perverted wavelength.

Winter huffs, but can't form a coherent response.

"Come on," Summer prods. She keeps rhythmically twisting her digits in and out of your asshole. Your natural wetness seeping down has made it sound obscene and squelchy. "Stop being such a prude. I already know you've been jilling off in my bedroom. Using my toys." Winter lets out a choked sputter at this. "And the way you keep asking all about me and Wes... the fact that you even fucked her..." Summer looks at her the way a lioness eyes a fallen gazelle. "You said you want to play with her together? Then cut the shit... and let's play."

With that, Summer pulls you into a long, lewd tongue kiss, her face over yours. You writhe and gyrate on her frigging fingers.

"She's gonna be back..." Winter warns, her eyes darting towards the tent door.

"Then let's get off quick," Summer hums, and keeps kissing you. You love the sensation of fucking your ass up and down on Summer's pinched-together fingers, and you love even more her hot, pink tongue rooting around inside your mouth, so slimy, but tasting so clean and fresh. She tugs down your absolutely ruined panties, and you rear back, helping her remove them. She wads the dirty garment up and tosses it at Winter.

Winter, reacting slowly to the panties draping themselves over her face, pulls them away and holds them before her. She gawks at the two of you, as, half-nude, you allow Summer to sodomize you to her heart's content.

"Go ahead and sniff them," you prompt, smirking at Winter and watching her from the side of your vision.

"It's... so gross..." Winter says, having some evident difficulty, her voice trembling. "You're such a gross... disgusting... d-dirty..." She seems to try to resist, but like gravity's pull, it's inevitable, and soon she's pressing the thing to her nose. She inhales your scent, first reservedly, then greedily, and finally desperately. She rubs it all over herself and stains her face with you.

"See?" Summer tells you. "That's the thing with Winter. She, like, psychologically projects on other people. She calls everyone else weird and gross because she knows that's what she is... she's a weird, gross little pervert... just like us."

"No I'm not... no I'm not..." Winter moans.

"Help me make Wes cum," Summer tells her.

Now a different sensation: that of Winter's bare foot against your bare pussy. The mess it makes is like she stepped on a grape, sticky and fragrant fluid seeping out of your cunt from the pressure she puts on you. You can actually hear it. And that alone is enough to make you moan directly into Summer's ravenously kissing mouth. Your clit is hard and aching for sweet release, and you're so needy now that even Winter's foot -- her smooth, soft, cruelly forceful foot -- is good enough to bring you towards the peak of orgasm. That, combined with Summer assfucking you, has you cruising on a sea of utter pleasure.

"Us Denalis are pretty good, huh," Summer laughs.

You nod eagerly.

"Mom was getting a little touchy with you too there for a sec, wasn't she." So she knew after all.

"What?" Winter says. "No way--"

"Shut up, Winter," you and Summer snap.

Winter glowers. But she doesn't stop masturbating your horny cunt for you. There's a long silent turn after that, the tent filled only with the noises of three young girls helping each other cum: you fingering Summer, Summer fingering you, the two of you rutting your tongues, Winter stepping on you -- and Winter playing with herself, too, as, sow-like, she inhales the musky smell of your arousal. At random intervals one of you moans or utters some half-formed obscenity, but that's all the verbal communication you need as you all bask in the delicious feelings emanating from your clits.

Your pussy needs more, though, to help it cum as hard as you want it to. And since Winter is so enthusiastic about it...

"Make her eat me."

"What's that, babe?" Summer asks, her brain fried from the wonderful things you're doing to her. She slides her jiggly butt back and forth and fucks against your hand.

"Make Winter eat me out."

"You heard her," Summer says with a raspy voice. She snaps her fingers like Winter is just an unruly dog rather than her little sister. "Get over here."

It seems like Winter is about to say no. But she's so caught in her own lust too that she gives up the gross-gross-gross act for once. She pulls her bottoms off, revealing her brown-hued, underfed legs and butt. Then she sinks under the kotatsu, inches forward on her tummy, and gets between your legs. Winter's elfin face is so soft and her lips are so wet, so relieving against the hot ache in your labia. Her sucking and licking is inartful, unskilled -- just like the first time she ate you out. But back then, she had all the power. Here, now, it's you and Summer who do, ordering her around, using her as just another part of your lewd play.

"Is she good at munching carpet?" Summer asks.

"Oh yes," you moan.

"I should give her a try sometime~"

Winter starts to say something, but Summer doesn't care what. She puts her hand on the back of Winter's skull and mashes Winter's lips to your steamy gash. "Shut the fuck up and eat her." Then, repositioning herself slightly so you can repose a bit in her lap, and unbuttoning her pajama top, she offers you her heavy tits. "Go ahead, babe. Nurse on me."

Nursing cunnilingus: now this is the life. You suck on Summer's dark pink nipples, enjoy the clingy confines of Summer's hot wet cunt, and ride the almost druglike trance of erotic sensations buzzing through both your fuckholes. With your anus gaping on Summer's violating digits, your pussy trickling its juices into Winter's greedy and curious mouth, you suck Summer's tits like you're really trying to get her milk. Maybe, you think, you should get Amelia to fuck her pregnant -- then you really could drink from her nipples...

You all lost track of time. This nasty scene is what Liz comes back to when she reenters the tent.

"Tch-- I-- oh my god--" Liz stammers. You stare guiltily back at her, but you can't stop, not now -- and anyway -- Summer was right, Liz was just groping you only minutes ago. She shouldn't act so scandalized.

"Sorry, Mom," Summer says. "We'll be done soon. You can come back in a couple if you don't want to see it."

"Summer -- that's your sister..."

"Right now she's my girlfriend's cum tissue," Summer says, so obviously reveling in her depravity.

For her part, Winter tries to get away, but Summer won't let her. Not until you've had your cum. Summer keeps a firm hold on her head so she keeps eating you. Humiliated, but turned on nonetheless, Winter strums your clitoris with the tip of her tongue and digs at her naked cunt with both hands.

Liz doesn't leave. Instead she circles you and sits on one of the hammocks to watch, a conflicted but intrigued expression on her face. "Have you... been doing this very long?" She asks.

"Few minutes," Summer says.

"That's not what she means..." you say.

"Oh. Then -- no." She grins at her mother. "This is the first time we've done it with Winter involved. Wanna see Wes cum on her?"

Liz's non-answer is more than answer enough.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck," you grunt, pinching your legs as close as you can. This has the effect, however unintentional, of scrunching up Winter's face and making her look even stupider than she already did. A surge of joyful adrenaline pulses through your gut like the moment a roller coaster plunges down a hill, and you squirt Winter's face full of girlcum. Try she might, she can't possibly drink it all. Her mouth overflows, and soon you're practically drowning her. Summer holds the girl's face to your body and continues to bugger you.

You cum and cum, and suck and suck at Summer's tits. And like a siren blaring through the mind-melting haze your cum induces, you can hear both the Denali sisters climaxing too. Their cutely high-pitched sighs and whines are so alike. Liz watches it all. She watches you squirt on Winter, watches Summer lose her load on you. And though she doesn't join in or even so much as touch herself -- the hypnotized way she peeps is evidence that she doesn't hate what she's seeing. Quite the opposite.

"Summer..." Liz says. "You're so..."

"So?" Summer prods.

Liz pushes her thick legs together and swallows hard. "You're so..."

You pet Winter's head as she nuzzles your thigh. Meanwhile you yourself nuzzle Summer's chest. Liz watches this post-coitus affection mutely.

"How about we--" you begin. But there's noise from outside, the harsh squeak of a zipper, and without warning there's someone entering the tent. You aren't the only one caught off-guard. Liz bodily jerks like she's been tazed. Winter pulls away from you so fast that she whangs her skull on the underside of the kotatsu, jostling the cards and poker chips. Summer hardly manages to cover her chest with her pajama top in time. You don't match that speed, and have to sit mortifyingly pantsless under cover of the futon.

"Ah -- glad you're all still up. How's camp?"

He looks from face to stunned face.

Liz is first to find her words. "Gideon... why are you here?"

Winter was momentarily shocked frozen, but Liz saying Gideon's name seems to have broken the spell. Her head disappears beneath the kotatsu and you hear the frantic rustle of her donning her pajama bottoms again. Then she pops out on the other side, hopping to her feet. "Daddy!"

She runs up and hugs him around the midsection. He clasps the back of her head, smiling, and holds her close. "How's my cuddles?"

Winter blushes, blinks rapidly. "D-don't--"

"Hmm?" Gideon says. "Oh... I see. You don't want me to call you Cuddles in front of your cool new friend here."

"DAD--"

(While Gideon is distracted, you surreptitiously put your shorts back on under the futon. You hope it's not too conspicuous, the way you prop yourself awkwardly onto one hand and slip the elastic past your butt before settling again.)

Gideon chuckles as Winter, struggling against his strength, extricates herself from his grip. The good spirit dies when he sees that the other two Denali girls are much less enthusiastic about his presence. "Wow," he says, trying to salvage things, "you're so tall these days, Summer. If you hit another growth spurt, you'll overtake me."

Summer huffs.

"I know you love softball, but have you ever considered basketball? You'd--"

"Seriously. What are you doing here?" Summer says.

Gideon can't hide his hurt expression. He actually flinches. But Summer wants an answer, so he gives it. "Executive decision. The rest of the brain trust is back in Palo yet. But we figured you could use some protection, and agreed I'd be the best point man in this neck of the woods."

"Why?" Liz asks.

"We didn't find Buridan. If we're lucky, he bled out and his body'll turn up in a storm drain somewhere. Do you think we're that lucky? I don't think we're that lucky. His next move might be to come after you. And since I know him best..." he coughs, and pulls out a cigarette. "Do you mind if I smoke in here?"

"Yes, I mind," Liz says, standing, snatching it from him. He grumbles. "What happened to quitting?"

"Still at it," he says. "Smoking is the easiest thing in the world to quit. I've done it about 20 times now."

"Mark Twain..." you say.

Gideon is pleasantly surprised. "Yes. Mark Twain. Paraphrased, anyway."

"Think you can come walking in here and have a place to sleep?" Summer says.

"Stop it!" Winter says, with bitterness to match her sister's. "Of course you can sleep here. We'll set up a blanket on the rug for you."

But Liz shoots her down. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"What!" Winter screams. She motions angrily at Liz. "Oh, so you're just gonna kick him out again. Is that it?"

"I'll be fine," Gideon tells her. "I brought my own tent. I just wanted to let you guys know that I'd be here so you didn't wake up to a surprise in the morning."

Winter spins around. From so close she has to crane her neck to look him in the eyes. "I'll sleep in your tent then. I... I missed you... hey, we can play cribbage, it's been a while -- and --"

"Why don't you hang out in here with your mom and sister."

Winter's voice is pure venom. "She isn't my mom."

Summer begins to say something in turn, but Gideon intercedes before things can get ugly. "Yes. She is. And she loves you every bit as much as I do." He rubs her upper arm. "We can do stuff together in the morning, Cuddles, okay?"

"But Daddy..."

Gideon glances back at Liz, and you can tell he's hoping that there will be some change of heart. But Liz doesn't bend, and responds with a mute glare.

[ ] Speak up on Gideon's behalf, and argue for him to sleep in their tent.

>[x] Don't interfere in Denali family business.

---

Despite their efforts to bail the water, Ophie and Noah's boat sinks out from under them just as they row past the parking lot at KDOW. So they wade through waist-high, garbage-clogged and filthy water towards the front entrance, and luckily find it propped open. Inside, they find a lobby half watterlogged, with furniture bobbing around, ferns and chairs and a little table. The going is slow, and tiring, but at least they're out of the downpour.

"Ophelia... your skirt."

Ophie glances down. In the water, her skirt has billowed up all around her, leaving her immodestly exposed. But she doesn't care at all, and presses onward.

They make it to a stairwell, and trudge upstairs towards the second story, where they find the soundbooth -- predictably abandoned. The power starts to flicker, the station's low hung amber lights cutting in and out of service for long intervals. They both stare up at them in silence.

Comfortable enough with one another that they can dispense with their customary shyness, they take off their clothes, and wring them out on the carpet outside the control room. Ophie shakes her hair, looking like a metalhead for a moment, spattering the windows of the control room with millions of droplets. Noah does likewise.

Ophie spits the foul-tasting dregs of rainwater from off her lips: "Pfffthtthppfff." She wipes her face with a palm, but it's not clear that she removed more moisture than she added. She finds a phone mounted to the wall, picks up the receiver, puts it to her ear, listens a moment, and then sets it back in the cradle.

"What should we do?" Noah asks.

"There is little of use we can do at the moment," is her deadpanned assessment. She leaves her clothes on the floor, crosses the room and stands at a window overlooking the bay. But her view is obscured by the dark and the downpour. "This is an ARkStorm."

Noah's view, behind her, is much nicer. He takes full advantage. So he's a little slower to process things than normal, but he does at last turn back to the practical. "Should we try to go further down the road? There were some more buildings on the distance. Taller ones."

"Facebook," Ophie says. "This water is too deep to travel. If the tides turn, we could get carried out to sea."

"We could go to the roof... try to flag down help."

"And who do you think is out in this weather?" Ophie asks, still watching out the window. "No aircraft can fly. We have nothing like signal flares, and no one on the ground will see us. Going to the roof is only going to get us wet again."

"The water will keep rising... who knows when the storm will clear."

"We can cling to the station's mast if it comes to that. We should be safe inside at least until sunup."

"Which brings me back to the first question. What do we do now?"

"You're staring at me," Ophie says.

Noah stammers. "W-what? -- I'm--"

Ophie turns around. "Just because there is little of use we can do... does not mean there is nothing at all we can do."

---

[x] Don't interfere in Denali family business.

Gideon stoops and steps out of the tent. There's a long, tense, and awkward silence in his wake.

"Sooo..." you drawl. "You guys wanna fuck some more, or?"

"No," all three Denalis say at once.

"Right."

Summer settles in on a hammock. "Come on, stupid. Let's get some sleep."

"Actually, I think we should have a family meeting," Liz says. She meets your gaze. "Are you all right going back to sleep with your mothers, honey?"

"Oh sure," you lie. She doesn't need to know that the Moms are currently up to each other's noses in each other's pussies.

"Sorry to be kicking you out," Liz says. "We can pick up our game tomorrow sometime."

"Aww," Summer says. "I wanted to be Wes's pillow tonight."

As nice as it sounds, you figure these three have a lot to work through, so you leave them to it.

You step out into the humid night. The last embers of the fire are enough to see Auburn's pale face by his tent. He's sitting on a boulder, facing the woods. He rises to his feet when he hears another person out here. Seeing you, he's visibly disappointed.

"Wesley," he says, trying to be cordial.

"Trouble sleeping?" You ask.

"Will doesn't make the world's best tentmate, let's say."

You draw closer. From inside their tent comes the jet engine noise of Will's snoring. You nod in sympathy. "Seems like you were waiting for something, though."

"Amber said if she got loose of those handcuffs, she'd come see me."

"You?" You laugh. "Why?"

"Do you really want to know all the sordid details of your own sister's sex life?" Auburn counters. You let that remark hang among the sounds of chirping crickets and snoring Wills. Auburn takes this as ceding the point: "that's what I thought."

"Must be feeling pretty... blue, then," you say with a smirk.

"You caught me in a bad mood, Wes. I'd watch your mouth if I were you. Unless you intend to use it." There's a palpable silence again between you, as you consider that -- and the mood shifts, as Auburn realizes that his crude joke is being given some sort of consideration.

Although the idea of sinking to your knees and giving a BJ in the middle of the campground does, in theory, turn you on -- the fact that it would be with Auburn keeps you from following through. The moment passes, and Auburn brushes by. He wanders over to the dying fire. With his back to you, he seems to be intently watching the pile of charcoal, ash, and cherries.

"Mad she stood you up?" You ask.

"She didn't stand me up. Her psychotic aunt is keeping her chained down like Cinderella."

"Oh, and I guess you're Prince Charming in this scenario," you laugh. Auburn doesn't answer. "What's the matter? Are you in love with her or something?"

"Yes."

You're shocked, not by the totally predictable truth, but by the unhesitating and firm way in which he announces it, so uncharacteristic of his usual tsuntsun act, and you have no witty response.

"I can't get her out of my head. She's the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think about before I go to sleep. In between, I dream about her. I'm obsessed." He stares up at the night sky. "It's ruining me."

"Why are you telling me this?" You ask.

Auburn shrugs. He doesn't face you. "I guess because I know you'll keep my secret."

"Bold assumption..."

"I'm sure you'd rather not deal with Amber's reaction. You have enough on your plate to begin with."

"Point taken."

At last he turns around. "What do you think? Do you think I've got a chance?"

You mull it over. Amber is your sister, and you know her far more intimately than even Auburn suspects, but at last, you have to admit: "I don't know. I can't see into her heart."

"I can't either. I guess no one can. It's why I love her."

He heads for his tent again. You stand awkwardly beside him as he unzips the flap. He pauses, frowning at you. "Looking for somewhere to sleep?"

You glance back towards the Moms' tent. Faintly, but distinctly, you hear K-Mom's characteristic "ungh... ungh..." which means those two are only just getting started in there.

"As a matter of fact, yeah, I am," you tell him.

"Well, you're welcome to sleep with us," Auburn says, holding the tent flap open and motioning with one arm towards the dark inside. So gentlemanly. But then there's an edge to his voice that you've never heard, at least not directed your way, as he adds: "might be dangerous, though."

"Dangerous?" You repeat.

"One girl, sharing her tent with two guys. Never know what'll happen."

>[x] Go in.

[ ] Decline.

Your eyes take a couple moments to adjust to the dark. When they do, you see that Will is lying on top of a sleeping bag. He has one arm over his chest and the other above his head. His legs are bowed so severely that his soles are almost touching.

He's naked.

"You guys sleep naked together?" You say. You glance back at Auburn, who's just stepping in. "That's kinda gay."

"Do I look naked?" Auburn says. "And I don't want to hear it from you." He sidles up to you and gazes down at Will. "Amber was supposed to come back here with me, so he was sort of waiting for that."

"What a bummer," you say. You startle as Auburn, getting much closer, puts his hand on your ass. He fondles you like you're longtime lovers. "That's a little presumptuous..." you say. You squirm uncomfortably.

Rather than answer, he just slides his hand down the back of your shorts. You left your underwear somewhere in the other tent, so Auburn has free rein down there. He doesn't waste time before taking advantage of it. Soon his fingers are between your ass, tickling both your holes. You can tell he's had practice.

You don't fight. In fact you wag your hips a little to heighten the sensation. You look over your shoulder at him. "I heard you had a thing for Asians."

"What can I say."

"That's not very culturally sensitive of you."

"Oh, I'm sensitive," he says. You bite your lower lip, draw a sharp breath, and bow your head as, from behind, he strums a finger against your clit. You're still recovering from the last few cums, so direct contact makes you shiver. You pinch your knees together -- which only traps his hand right there. "Guess you're sensitive, too," he says, equal parts cruel and smug.

You came in here to have fun with Will, and thought Auburn would be an unpleasant third wheel. But the way he's taking advantage of you has you reconsidering. This is a side of him you've never seen.

"You know, I've heard things about you, too," he says.

You whip your hair from your face and manage to meet his piercing gaze, even as he mercilessly rubs you down there. "What things?"

"That you're easy. That you'll open your legs up for just about anyone, boy or girl."

"What can I say..."

"Take off your clothes."

He starts to pull his hand away, but you reach behind yourself and grab his wrist to stop him. "Hold on," you beg, rubbing yourself on him. "I'm almost there."

"You really are a slut," he says.

"Uh huh," you agree, nodding your head, riding him. He keeps his hand still and lets you hold it there against your crotch to hump it as you may. Your knees knock as you use him to masturbate yourself to a creamy orgasm inside your shorts, your second accident of the night. At the peak of your orgasm, you feel one of his fingers poking past the ring of your anus, and like he assumed it would, the violation makes you cum even harder.

"Take off your fucking clothes," he says. This time he's not willing to wait.

You strip for him. Some people, when they see you naked, are smitten -- others are lustful -- still others become shy. Getting naked for this boy is the first time you've ever felt something like cold and calculated appraisal. His eyes are judging you: your twiggy legs, your ribby chest, your waifish frame -- he seems to be considering all the ways he can use you. Nothing more. And certainly no thoughts of you as a human being with free will of your own.

So you take the initiative how you can, and do what you only briefly imagined out by the fire. You sink down to your knees and tug at his baggy shorts. He helps you along. Springing free, right in front of your face, is his cock. You could punch Amber right about now. All the times she used the word "micropenis" in conjunction with Auburn's name, she was lying through her fucking teeth. She KNEW the truth and never keyed you in. What kind of sister is she? Auburn's dick isn't as fat as Will's, but it's gotta be almost two inches longer -- roughly the same dimensions, you realize with a quiver, as Talia's -- this is a dick that would be more than able to split apart your deepest back walls.

Your jaw drifts open. You begin to salivate. By now, for you, this sort of response is nigh autonomic. Presented with a dick like this, you can't help yourself. You go all stupid for it.

More than that, the way he remorselessly stares down his nose with those bright, bright blue eyes of his, feels like a silent command to suck him off. And an implicit threat that he'll force you if you don't do it willingly.

You kinda want to make him force you.

But you don't want to wait any longer. So, gripping his dick around the base, you rub it against yourself -- first one cheek, then the other. You let him leak on you. Getting your face sloppy with precum has to be one of your favorite forms of foreplay. It feels so gross and slimy mixing and melding with the sweat you've worked up in this balmy summer night. It forms a microscopically thin film with an almost jelly-like consistency that clings and seeps into your pores. You just know that you're going to stink like cock until the next time you wash yourself... which may not be for the rest of the camping trip... that notion alone is enough to make your naked pussy clench. As you slip his cockhead past your lips, you masturbate, digging at the hot itch inside your cunt. Of course, fingers can only stave it off. Fully satisfying it will take something much better.

Auburn's cock has a clean taste, not the somewhat bitter and pungent taste of Amelia's or even the slimy saltiness of Talia's. It's almost perfectly neutral. And so you can close your eyes and focus on the way its fleshy heat fills your mouth, the way his spongy glans throbs so nicely against the wetness of your tongue, the way his viscous prefuck slides smoothly down your throat and coats it along the way. You hold a balled fist against your chest, frig your horny twat, and suck him off, your head truly empty of all thought. You hardly even notice that you're gagging on him. You care even less.

"Where do you want me to cum?" He asks.

You lock eyes with him as you bob your head up and down on his shaft.

He grabs the sides of your face, holding you partly by the ears, and starts to slowly but forcefully fuck your mouth. You don't break eye contact, and he bores a hole into your very soul with his unflinching gaze. But as his thrusting prick slides deeper and deeper into your now violently heaving throat, as his balls tighten up and you prepare for surges of hot spunk washing over your tonsils... he stops, and pulls all the way out. Simultaneously he shoves you, not that hard, but it's unexpected enough to almost topple you to your back. You hack and cough and gasp for air, the back of your palm to your mouth, and with a humiliated shudder realize that your face and chest are absolutely covered in your own drool.

He sits down on his sleeping bag, his cock standing proud at attention. He points at his own lap. "Come over here and bounce on me."

On hands and knees you crawl to him. Fully aware of your own wanton expression and tone, you ask: "what makes you assume I'll do it raw?"

"I don't have to assume. I know you will."

"Oh do you."

"If you're worried about it, you can use your ass. Your choice."

Still on all fours, you reach between your legs and pet your dripping kitty. "Hmm. I guess Amber only ever lets you fuck her asshole, huh."

For the first time since this started, you've put a chink in Auburn's armor. He isn't so cocky, even if only for a moment, as he blinks back at you, shocked that you could know or deduce something like that. You grin.

When he does formulate a response, it's full of anger. "Come and ride me or I'll rape you," he sneers. What an easy ego to wound. Doesn't he know he's threatening you with a good time?

You crawl into his lap, swinging your legs around him, holding onto his shoulders. "All right. I like to bounce, anyway." You slowly sink down, letting your body adjust to his girth, while his hands keep you spread wide open. You shush and coo at him like you're soothing a grumpy kid. In response, he closes his eyes and sighs a deep, masculine sigh of sweet relief. It's actually cute.

"Ohhh," you breathe, wincing through the pain. "That's nice. That's better. There we go... doesn't that feel good?" You open your eyes and gaze at him. "Guess you get my ass tonight."

"If you want me to cum in your ass, fine by me, slut," he says through pleasure-gritted teeth.

Once you've taken him down to his balls, you allow yourself just a moment to acclimate -- and then, as ordered, you bounce. The meaty sound of your butt slapping his lap on every stroke still isn't enough to rouse Will from his comatose slumber. Too bad for him. You ride Auburn like a girl possessed, showing him proudly what a buttslut you are, and he holds your waist to keep you from totally dismounting on the outstroke. His rigid cock has very little bend to it, which makes it feel especially alien and weird plunging in and out of your tender anus. But the vital heat and wetness of it is so nice that it makes your pussy tingle. You frig yourself as you fuck. He stares entranced at the sight.

"Have you ever fucked a girl's pussy before, Auburn?"

He declines to answer, but just keeps staring at how you masturbate.

Your voice is breathy and shows the evidence of your exertion. "I guess you really haven't... I guess that means you're a virgin, huh?" You make a show of the way you stroke your clitty and slip your fingers inside. You pause a couple times to slap yourself, the sudden thwacks to your twat lips deliciously painful and echoing like gunshots. "Like what you see? Like my pussy? So close and yet so far... huh?"

Auburn's head snaps up and he glares at you. Wrapping an arm around your tailbone, he starts to fuck you back. He isn't nice about it. He pounds you out like you're a plastic pocket pussy, and stares you in the eye the whole time. That mean, calculating, selfish, almost dead-eyed gaze that makes you wilt in an instant. Since he couldn't think of a good comeback for your ribbing, this is how he'll get his revenge: by fucking your ass raw until you're literally seeing stars.

You start to swoon a little, but Auburn isn't done with you. As you sway backwards, Auburn follows forwards, and before you know it you're on your back, staring up at the tent's ceiling, with Auburn atop you like a rutting animal. His breathing is erratic and full of deep moaning as he fucks your ass with the full length of his dick.

"Hah... hah..." you pant, reduced to nothing more than a horny breeding bitch yourself.

"Shut up," he grunts, and clasps a hand to your mouth. "I didn't give you permission to speak."

His thrusting gets even faster, until his lower body is a blur. He settles his weight more fully atop you, hand pressing harder to your face. Unable to properly breathe and nearly panicking because of it, you gaze deep into those ruthless eyes as he finds his nut. You mean less than nothing to him -- beyond having a warm hole for him to use -- and if he smothers you until you lose consciousness, he clearly doesn't consider it a problem of his. But at last that steely glare crumbles under the glory of his own male pleasure. His jaw goes slack, his eyelids droop, and he has full-body spasms as his nuts empty themselves inside your body. His staccato "ahh-- ahh-- ooooh--" is both pathetically desperate and cruelly selfish. He cums inside your butt without any regard for what you want. Lucky for you, you approve of it. Getting spermed inside your ass is just what you needed to go all creamy yourself. You squirt, your girlcum squelching out between the union of your bodies.

As easily as Auburn came, he pulls out, his dick still shiny with spunk. He sits back on his sleeping bag, one arm resting on one cocked knee, his other leg splayed. He breathes ragged as he appreciates his pearly semen oozing from your gaped fuckhole. He shines with sweat, yours and his. He's still hard and twitching.

You wipe your sweat-slick hair from your face and roll your eyes back to take a look at Will. He hasn't stopped snoring.

"If you want to fuck him too, you'll have to wake him up," Auburn tells you.

"Do you want me to?"

"I don't fucking care. Do whatever you want." He tilts his head, thinking for a moment, and adds: "but come clean me off first."

You get between his legs and unquestioningly suck his cock that was so recently balls-deep in your ass. He smirks down at you. Pets your hair, parts it with his fingers. The taste of your own ass and Auburn's cum mixed together on his cockshaft is sour, nasty -- unpleasant. That unpleasantness is what makes licking it all up so fucking fun.

"You're a lot nicer to deal with than Amber. I don't have to force you."

You pause to smirk back at him. "Have you been raping my sister?"

"She gives as good as she gets," comes his cryptic reply.

You swallow his cock again. This tongue cleaning becomes a long, slow, luxurious fellatio in its own right. You gently knead his balls with both hands and make a game of gagging yourself on him. How long can you hold your nose to the forest of his pubes before it's too late and you can no longer stop yourself either vomiting or fainting? It's fun to risk it. You heave and sputter against his invading tool, eyes firmly in the back of your skull. He lets you suck as much and as long as you want, but soon it becomes clear to both of you that you won't be through until he's had another orgasm inside you.

That rougher edge of him comes out again when he crests the peak. He holds you tightly and seats his horny dick inside your gullet, groaning in ecstasy as he spunks. It's every bit as thick as the first load was, and some of it winds up coming back out your nose. Your quacklike gagging makes you seep his spunk from both nostrils and both corners of your mouth. Pulling off of him, gasping, a strand of mucusy saliva bridging your lips to his dick, you sniffle back the sperm and wipe it from your face. Then you lick it all up.

"Clean enough?" You ask, voice hoarse.

"For now."

"Good..." You glance over your shoulder. "Pardon me," you say.

He nods.

Crawling over to Will, you don't waste time. You get between his legs and start sucking his cock. Even soft it's thick and meaty, but under your swabbing tongue it starts to thicken to truly cuntbusting proportions. He stirs, but takes several long moments to actually wake. Smacking his lips, tossing and turning his head, his eyes slowly open.

"Au-- Amber...?" He slurs. Then, like lightning struck, he's fully alert: "Wes! Shit. You should have woken me up."

You let his mostly erect cock wetly plap against his hard tummy. "I am waking you up."

"That's, like, a sexual assault, you know. Like. A nonconsent type thing."

"Rape?"

"Yeah. That."

"Do you give a fuck?"

"Well. No. But that only means you got lucky." You start to suck him again. He rises to his butt to enjoy the blowjob. A few moments later you jolt when he suddenly grabs your ass and spreads it open. Tilting his head to one side, he says, "you did get lucky." He glances over at Auburn, who's watching placidly. "Way to share her, dickmunch."

"Am I not sharing?" He asks, a bit offended. "Is this not your definition of sharing?"

"Where's Amb?"

"Never showed," Auburn says.

You let Will's cock slip from your lips again. "Think of me as the consolation prize."

"Shit, Wes. You're a grand prize in my book."

You like Will. You really do.

"Wanna fuck my pussy?" You ask him.

"Hell yeah."

You turn in a half circle, face down, ass up. Will, you know, isn't the type to care about the fact that another boy's spunk is dripping down your cunt lips. He gets up on his knees and plants himself inside you. You let out a delirious groan of pleasure -- that bliss-inducing moment when a cockhead spreads your labia wide and plunges deep... you don't think you'll ever get sick of it.

"Wes... your pussy is so fucking hot..." Will gasps as he fucks you in and out. He's not trying to be cruel, but he presses down on your head with one hand, forcing your face into the nylon of his sleeping bag. There's something so pleasurable about that -- about a guy like Will, who isn't deliberately trying to mistreat you, but manages, in his pleasure, to mistreat you anyway.

Shrugging with the effort of it, you turn your face the other way to look at Auburn. Your hair is thickly matted over your face again, and Will's weight pressing down on your skull is making your vision explode with little pops of light. But indistinct as Auburn is to you like this, you can tell he's watching the scene intently. You grin at him. "Will's nice," you say. "He gets to cum inside my pussy."

"I'm mean," Auburn says, not missing a beat. "I get to cum wherever I want."

Your insides twinge and grip Will's dick like suckling lips. Will grunts with unexpected pleasure. "Fuck, you've got a tight cunt," he pants, voice full of praise.

Auburn crosses the tent. He gets down on hands and knees, puts his cheek to the ground, so his face fills your vision. Whispering, he says, "I liked cumming inside your ass. I think I want to do it again."

"DP?" Will grunts.

Auburn rises to his knees. "Get her up."

Will doesn't ask your permission as he loops his hands under your armpits and rears you back. Auburn must be a bad influence on him. They get you turned around, Will's cock still embedded deep up your pussy, and in an instant you're pinned between the two boys.

"Hold on," you pant. "I've never been--"

"First time for everything," Auburn says.

You choke on nothing as, for the first time ever, you you get fucked in both holes at once. It more than hurts. It's almost sheer agony, and you're sure they'll break you open. You can feel both your fuckholes being stretched beyond their limits, as Will and Auburn establish a quick, brutal pace inside you. These close quarters make you all perspire. The paradoxical combination of their slippery bodies and the tightness of the way they pin you is enough to drive you wild.

Auburn rests his mouth on your shoulder. He bites you, hard -- and then trails tender kisses up your neck, across the side of your face, all the way to your lips. Though you have to twist your neck awkwardly to kiss him back, you open your mouth to his. Fucker's had practice at this, too. You tongue with him, enjoying the heat of him, the intensity, and he purrs like a contented cat down your neck while he relieves himself in your asshole.

"God, you're gross," he growls. "You're such a gross fucking slut."

"Uh huh," you moan.

"You're a gross fucking slut, and I'll cum inside whichever hole of yours I damn well please."

"Uh huh... uh huh..." you moan. All you can do is nod and brokenly agree with him and kiss him.

He stops, buried to the hilt, maybe sensing that Will is close to popping. Will pulls your face from Auburn's and replaces Auburn's lips with his own. You don't care. You kiss him, too.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he grunts over and again in your mouth between kisses. And with that you feel the ooey, gooey, wonderfully nasty explosion of a cumming cock, deep inside your womb. What an addictive rush it is. He keeps his cockhead planted in your uterus for those first few spurts, but can't resist pounding you out during the last few. He makes a smelly mess of the sleeping bag below him in doing so -- not that he cares at the moment. With his tongue down your throat, he finishes emptying his fertile cum in your baby room.

They both let you go, and you fall to your back on the ground. You didn't realize it until now, but you could barely breathe during the DP. You gulp down the fresh air, acutely and ashamedly aware of what a fucking mess you've become.

"I still need to cum," Auburn says. "Where do you want it?"

You leer coquettishly back at him. You lift your legs up, and akimbo, and pry your cummy holes apart with the fingers of both hands. "Where do you want to put it?"

"Good girl."

He gets between you, squatting with bowed legs, and fucks his cock deep down into your pussy. Plunging up and down like a butter churn, he stirs up the mess already there, and before long he adds a new mess to it. With gushing splurts and glops, he spunks your cunt to his heart's content. You hold it open for him the whole time and you watch him do it, your ankles on your ears.

---

You stand there in the middle of the tent between Will and Auburn's sleeping bags as you finish wiping yourself off. Well. As much as you reasonably can, anyway. There was a lot to wipe. Thankfully this tent is well stocked with supplies for it.

"Are you a convert now or what?" Will asks.

You gaze at the wadded-up blue paper toweling in your hand. "Yeah. These work pretty well."

"I'm telling you, dude. Shop towels are the best. Soft like woah. Hella absorbent. You'll never go back to Kleenex again."

"Can you please stop with the shop towel pitch?" Auburn says. "I swear to god. Do you work for the company that makes them or what?"

"Just sayin."

Auburn sits up, gesticulating. "Stop! Stop sayin!"

"Pfft. Okay, Hitler. Then tell me you don't like 'em too. Look me in the eyes and tell me. You can't. You can't do it. Because you know it's the truth."

You toss the used shop towel at him, and it lands on his chest. He groans, disgusted, as he swats it away.

"You sleeping or nah?" Will asks.

"Yeah, fina--" you begin. Then: "Shit," you mutter. "I forgot my sleeping bag in Summer's tent."

"...Go get it?" Will says.

"I'm not walking back into that minefield. They're having a family meeting."

"Uff," Auburn grunts, commiserating, as he kicks back and lies with the back of his head on his folded arms. "Yeah. Better not to mess with that."

"Can I use your sleeping bag?" You ask Will.

"Sure. Hop in, pardner."

"Hop in... with you?"

"Uh, yeah?"

You shake your head. "What the hell is it with you freaks and sharing sleeping bags?"

Will snorts. "Because sharing a sleeping bag, that sure is a gross thing to share. Sure. Okay."

"You can sleep with one of us or you can sleep on the ground," Auburn says. "Don't expect us to give up our beds for you just because you gave up your ass for us."

You slap your wrist against the crook of your other arm. "Bite me, Raisin Brant."

"Come over here so I can bite you then."

You get dressed and stomp out of the tent.

The tent Amelia and Olivia share is the only one with light still emanating.

Let no one accuse you of failing to learn from past mistakes. Knocking on a tent's door didn't work. So this time, you decide on giving stealth a try. The zippered flap isn't entirely done up, so you can poke a finger into the gap, pry it open, and slip inside.

If you're being honest, your sneakery here is driven less by the fear of being mistaken for a bear, and more by curiosity -- you kind of want to catch the two of them in the act. You want to know what it's like. How Amelia treats her lover. How Olivia is as a lover.

You're way too late. They've already done the deed, multiple times judging by the acrid smell that fills the tent, and now they're enjoying the afterglow. Amelia, wearing only a loose-fitting tee, is on her knees, straddling Olivia's naked body, a thigh on either side of Olivia's butt. Her back is to you. Her very, very prodigious back. That tee doesn't hang quite low enough.

She's giving Olivia a tender, thorough -- but seemingly chaste -- deep-tissue massage, as Olivia, cheek on her folded arms, dreamily rests her heavy eyelids. Olivia's pale breasts pressing against the fabric of the comforter below her remind you of uncooked dough on a baking sheet.

Amelia sings as her soft hands knead Olivia's back. You've never heard her like this, and never suspected she had such a tuneful singing voice. It's a voice seemingly purpose-made to carry such a Hollywood standard:

Moon River,

Wider than a mile.

I'm crossin' you in style, someday

Oh, dream maker.

You heart breaker.

Wherever you're goin',

I'm goin' your way.

Two drifters

Off to see the world.

There's such a lot of world

To see.

We're after the same

Rain-bow's end,

Waitn' 'round the bend,

My huckleberry friend,

Moon River

And me.

"I'm sleepy," Olivia coos.

"Yeah, I bet you are," Amelia says, still working her hands.

"You can keep me up all night and then put me right to sleep. Just like that."

"Mm hmm."

"I love you," Olivia says.

Amelia keeps massaging her. You stand around, watching them, in awkward silence, not sure when or even whether to make yourself known.

Olivia peeks open an eye and looks up at Amelia. "We have company."

"I know," Amelia says. She doesn't turn, but only keeps her hypnotic massage going. "Some naughty girl snuck in. What should we do?"

"Mmm... I think we should spank her."

"Oh my," Amelia purrs. "Well, if you think that's best."

Amelia languidly rises and turns. Her cock hangs low enough to more than peek out from the hem of her tee. It's flaccid, yet still has obvious heft and weight to it. On the grower-shower spectrum, she certainly leans closer to the shower end. Meanwhile her tits distend the tee's front and afford an excellent view down her collar. The heat of the late Colorado summer eve has left her sweating, and the thin fabric clings so close in spots that it's transparent. You glimpse the shape of her navel nestled in her almost pudgy tummy, and make out the champagne hue of her nipples. Her nipples are inverted, and so soft looking -- you want to suck the sweat off them. You want to lie against the softness of her body and nurse. Yet in among that womanly figure of hers, there it hangs, the biggest cock you've ever seen, dark and veiny and smelly. Although you can detect notes of both Amelia and Olivia's perfumes in the air, and their natural womanly scents, and the feminine sweetness of their arousal... these are only undertones, almost wholly overpowered by the brain-melting reek of cock and sperm.

Olivia's body is just as inviting. Her pale skin is as smooth as polished porcelain. She isn't as meaty as Amelia, but the crease of her ass with the back of her thighs is enough to make you drool. Her slightly less plump build only accentuates the natural curves of her figure: a woman all woman, for sure. This is your first time seeing her naked, but she shows no reservations or shyness about it. Smiling bright, she turns over and lies propped up on one elbow. And you think it's no coincidence that she lets her legs drift open, to display to you her naked cunt. Amelia's had her way already, all right: Olivia is leaking jizz from her lower holes. It's thick, still wet, slickening both fuckholes, and slickens too the manicured bush adorning her mound. Ropes of cum dangle between her pubes like twine strung across grass. It glistens in the gauzy light. Cum streaks the underside of her tits, too, and oozes from between her cleavage, tracing a path between the well-defined hollow of her neck down to her sternum. What a sweetheart, you think, to let Amelia fuck her tits as well.

"Get comfortable," Olivia says. "Stay a while."

You strip, unable to resist any more than if you'd been ordered at gunpoint. How could you possibly say no to such beautiful women as these two? Amelia watches you with the ambivalent expression she always wears, one of near-worship battling primate lust. Olivia watches with an empty-headed smile and curiosity that comes off as almost childlike.

"How old did you say you were again?" Olivia asks.

"16."

"Oh my. That's dangerous, isn't it?" She gives Amelia a sly grin, which makes Amelia wilt and blush and stare at the ground.

"Technically legal..." Amelia says.

Olivia giggles. "Cradle robber." For a moment she watches you, and you watch her back. She seems to enjoy the attention. But she also senses your bone-deep exhaustion: "You look very tired. Maybe you need to rest."

"Yeah... yeah, you're right."

"All sexed out, then?" She asks. Maybe a little disappointed, but staying bright and gracious and welcoming all the same -- she just wants you to enjoy yourself.

"I can still sex," you drawl. "I can... sex. A lot."

"Uh... huh," Olivia says, nodding, patronizing.

Amelia clears her throat. "You know, Wes... Liv has this way she likes to be lulled to sleep..."

"Mmm," Olivia purrs, her smile turning dreamy. "Smart. Yes. Come and help me get to sleep, Wesley."

"How?" You ask.

"Give me a goodnight kiss."

You lurch forward, dragging your feet, and you nearly fall as you ease down to all fours to lie atop her. Your body feels so heavy under gravity's pull, and uncoordinated. When your head hits the soft cushion of her tummy, when you feel the heat of her skin against your clammy face -- if you didn't have the promise of a kiss with a woman so pretty to keep you going, you'd let your burning eyes clamp shut, then and there. Your mental comparison from before was precisely right: she has the give and squish of a human-sized, unleavened mound of dough. You wriggle and writhe to draw level with her, luxuriating in that pliable softness, half-consciously nuzzling her the way a kid would nuzzle a teddy bear. As your face draws up and over her doughy tits, you end up smeared with cum, but you don't mind at all. Nor does Olivia mind the pearly wads of Amelia's still-warm cock milk dripping off your nose and lips as she puckers up and draws you into a lewd French kiss. She wraps her thick legs around your tailbone and her hands around the back of your skull, pressing your body deeper into hers. You feel totally enveloped. But you aren't at all. Because moments later, Amelia settles on top of you -- then you truly know what it's like to be enveloped by the fleshy confines of two mature women's bodies.

They pet and caress you and writhe gently against you and coo. They baby you. They're soft all over, jiggly and pliant, and so, so warm. Olivia's mouth is sweet like raspberries, but the cloying pungency of Amelia's spunk passing back and forth between your lips is much more powerful. Over the course of long minutes, this changes. You and Olivia each swallow your share of Amelia's thick load, and the candy sweetness of Olivia's kiss slowly rises to the fore, coating your tongue, making you crave for more. Amelia meanwhile is getting a hard-on. That prong against your ass, spongy and hot, but hard, makes such a wonderful contrast to the sea of fat you're swimming in. While you kiss with Olivia, Amelia kisses you -- all over -- nape and forehead, shoulder-blades and spine, crown and cheek. But she especially likes to suck your neck, your thin and vulnerable neck, so she puts a special focus there. Her kisses are hungry, growly, purry things, punctuated by nips and long wet licks. And she has other gentle cruelties to wage. Whenever she nibbles your earlobes, it makes you shudder, and the blast of hot air she exhales into your ear canal, sounding like a gale, tingles electrically up your scalp and down your back.

"Should we spank her now?" Amelia asks.

Since you won't relent willingly, Olivia has to bob her head a little to break the kiss and answer: "she's wiped. Poor thing. We can spank her in the morning, hm?"

"Let's... kiss to sleep..." you mutter, basically asleep already.

Olivia pets your face while above you Amelia pets your hair. "Mm," Olivia hums, "you're such a good kisser, Wes. You kiss like a girl twice your age. It gets my pussy so wet... when you kiss me like this... you really know how to make a girl horny, don't you?" She kisses you just above your collarbone as Amelia kisses you on your cheek. "And now that we've been properly introduced, I'll tell you my little secret... the goodnight kiss that puts me to sleep..." she pecks your forehead, your nose, your lips. "...It isn't up here."

"Where is it?" Although you already know. You want to hear her say it.

"Will you kiss me down lower? Down here?" She reaches between your bodies, and guides your hand to her tender pussy. "Mel says your cunnilingus is fantastic... and your anilingus is unbeatable. Would you mind eating me to sleep? I'd be so grateful. I might even cancel your spanking."

You pause to enjoy once more the flavor of Olivia's mouth as Amelia silently humps against your body, her cock leaking all over your butt. Olivia smooches you back. When you pull your lips away, her sugary saliva links you. "I'll do it... just one thing you gotta do for me, though..." you whisper, eyelids drooping.

"What's that?"

"Don't cancel the spanking."

You sink lower, and get your face between Olivia's legs. She spreads them just wide enough for you to get your mouth on her genitals, no wider -- so that your cheeks and ears are pinched by thigh meat. Amelia gets off of you, and you lose sight of her, instead focusing on this so-inviting sight before you: these dark pink, fat, wet, dripping, cummy fuckholes. What a greedy woman Olivia is... she must have taken three or four of Amelia's cock-loads raw inside her and she's still horny. This will be your prize, though, for fulfilling her request. You get to feast on Amelia's baby batter after it's been baked inside a wet cunt.

"Oh... ohhhh," Olivia sighs, her whole body undulating a little, like a rope given a shake from one end. She paws her tits, pressing them together and rubbing the nipples with the meat of her palms. "You are skilled... oh my..."

That's you: Wesley Keki, suckjob princess. Everyone has a calling in life, and this is yours. Sucking orgasms out of genitals -- male, female, or in-between.

Olivia's cunt is as sweet as her mouth. Kissing her here, on her pussy loaded so obscenely with Amelia's fuckslop, is just an amplified version of kissing her on the lips, the bitter tang of semen covering the almost imperceptible raspberry juice underneath. Another similarity: the more you suck and swallow, the less prominent the first flavor becomes, the more prominent the second -- until you've Hoovered her all out, and can fully enjoy the sweet nectar of girlcum dancing in your mouth. Not that Amelia's cum goes down easy. It's so viscous that it takes real concerted effort to swallow, like sucking down a stubbornly thick milkshake. And there's so much of it that it makes you burp a couple times -- little bubbles of her cum rising back up, just to remind your tongue of her dirty taste.  

You spasm when you feel Amelia's thumbs spread you open. She has her hands on your ass, squeezing, and she's pulling the cheeks apart as far as they'll go. You can feel the tautly stretched membrane of your perineum between your ass and cunt, and you worry it will snap. You can just picture the nasty view Amelia has got: your taint blanching from how stretched it is, your holes all red and puffy from getting fucked all night long, your orifices clenching and unclenching -- winking at her, and probably still foamy with leftover cock cream. Examining you like this, she must be able to tell you've taken hard use tonight in both holes and from other cocks. You're so ashamed. You're so hot.

You expect her to shove her fucker nuts-deep into one or another of the onaholes between your legs. Instead, you feel the pressure of her face burying itself entirely in your ass -- her nose against your anus, her mouth latching itself onto your pussy. Soon you hear the thwipp, thwipp of Amelia masturbating with both hands. She's humping her fists while she snacks on your butt.  

"How sweet," Olivia croons.

"Nnnf," you grunt against her. If Amelia's nipping kisses on your upper half drove you wild...

Olivia turns back over and settles on her stomach. So you become like Amelia, with your face buried in another woman's ass. You kiss Olivia's asshole with the same loving enthusiasm as you did her pussy. It doesn't matter to you. It's just as pretty, just as tasty, and just as full of Amelia's delicious milk. Why shouldn't you swoon to make out with it? So you do: you make out with Olivia's asshole, tonguing it and smooching it and adoring every square inch of it. This lewd French kiss with Olivia's ass in imitation of the one you shared with her mouth, is how your occupy your frazzled mind as it passes the liminal barrier into sleep. Nodding your head up and down, vigorously at first, but increasingly sluggish... with Amelia eating you out in exactly the same way to keep a low-level buzz of continuous orgasm rippling through you... you begin to fade in and out of consciousness. Olivia does too, with girly and contented sighs, and you're so proud that you can be such a soothing suckslut for her. Her butt makes such a fantastic pillow, with your arms wrapped around her soft waist and your lips on her anus. And so finally, at last, you're all soundly asleep, together, in the tent; and it isn't until the afternoon that you finally all wake up.

GIRLS FUCKED: 8/11

---

The Moms are sitting by the firepit with some of the others as you groggily shuffle out of the tent. You shield your eyes from the blazing sun and squint at them.

"The dead rise," N-Mom says.

"Wow. Look who finally decided to come out of their cave," K-Mom says.

You hate this shit so much more than it should be possible to hate anything.

You glance around, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and smacking your lips. Liz is eating a sandwich and talking in low tones with Summer on the other side of the firepit. Winter is kneeling in the dirt, off on the middle distance, packing a tackle box with provisions -- and trying to convince Gideon to tag along for the fishing. Will is climbing a tree. Lily is standing at the base of it repeatedly calling him a dumbass.

You plop down between your Mommies. "God," you heave.

"What's up?" K-Mom asks.

You shrug. "Some days just feel like they last a month, you know?"

"You going fishing with us?"

"I don't know what I'm going," you say. You wince, and reach behind yourself, and rub your butt. "My butt's sore."

"Bet it's not as sore as mine," N-Mom says.

"I slept in Amelia's tent."

She nods once, silently yielding back the balance of her time. Of course, Amelia isn't the sole cause of your anal distress. Her spanking this morning was pretty brutal, but you were feeling ass-blasted well before that, too.

Somehow, though, it seems more shameful to admit to your parents that you did it with some of your classmates than to let them think you did it with a futanari old enough to be your third mother and endowed enough to have a third leg.

"Hungry?" N-Mom asks.

"I should brush first."

"Yeah, your breath is pretty stank," she agrees.

"Thanks Mom. Where'd you guys pack my toothbrush?"

They stare at you like a couple of gay deer in headlights.

"You packed my toothbrush, right?"

"Nnnnnyes," N-Mom says.

"Nyes?"

"Nyet."

"Oh my God."

Behind you, you hear a thump followed by a yowl of pain and peals of laughter. You turn in place. The eagle has landed: Will has fallen from the treetop and collided with the Earth amid plumes of dust. "I told you!" Lily shouts. "You fuckin' dumbass!"

"We'll pick you up a toothbrush at the store," K-Mom says. "We have to stop in town for some other stuff anyway."

You open your mouth as wide as you can and breathily exhale into her face: "hahhhh."

"Fuck." K-Mom recoils, plugging her nose. "We have mouthwash. Use that for now."

"Where?"

"In the RV. In the medicine cabinet in the..." she trails off, looks down at her lap, and fiddles with the black denim of her jeans.

"In the what. Say it."

"In the bathroom."

"Is she still not out of there?" You demand.

The Moms just shrug.

"Sick of this shit," you say, rising.

"Wes--" N-Mom says, grabbing for your wrist.

"Hahhh."

N-Mom recoils. You pull free of her and go marching towards the RV's open door.

---

"Talia." You knock on the door. "Talia! I know you're upset, but this isn't any way to deal!" You knock louder. "We care about you, so... come out! Come be a part of the world again! Talia!" You start to really pound. The thin partition shakes and shudders and rattles. "Snuggy Bear! Hey! ... Answer me!"

All at once you stop, leaning your forehead against the door, equal parts angry and despondent. Then, resolving yourself, you announce, "that's it. I'm breaking down the door."

You brace yourself and swing with all your weight against the door, using your shoulder for a battering ram. It only takes one try to blow the door clean open, and you almost stumble ass-over-teakettle into the cramped bathroom stall. Righting yourself, you first notice that the bathroom is empty -- the door was unlocked the whole time. Then in your peripheral vision, you notice Talia, standing at the threshold of the RV's little sleeping compartment, watching you in mute befuddlement.

You turn to fully face her, clear your throat. "Uh. I was getting worried about you."

She clears her throat, too, and also pulls a sort of vaguely disgusted face.

"Hold on a sec," you say, turn towards the bathroom, and swig a few healthy swigs of Listerine.

When you come back out, Talia is gone, and the door to the sleeping compartment is closed. You let yourself in. She's on the top bunk, facing the wall. You climb up onto the first rung of the ladder to see her more clearly. Carrying on a conversation from this position is awkward. But if you didn't know how to power through an awkward scenario, you'd have died years and years ago.

"Minty fresh," you say.

She doesn't answer.

"Are you doing all right?"

She doesn't answer.

"We've got a lot of stuff planned today. Lots of... activities. So many activities. You should come out and do some activities with us. Be an activity doer."

Glancing her once over, you see she's still wearing what she was wearing yesterday, a thin black tanktop and skirt, both stained with her own blood, and in the gap between them, her belly, wrapped in white gauze. She lies as motionless as a corpse.

"I'm here for you," you say, lamely, the only platitude that comes to mind.

"Hate me," Talia says.

"Huh?"

She stays facing the wall. "Save your time. Hate me."

You shake your head. "But... I don't."

She starts to shiver. You're confused at first. Without the engine running, there's no A/C, and it's as muggy in here as it is out there. Then you figure it out. Emotionless Talia Berenstoin, your Snuggy Bear, isn't cold. She's crying.

You climb into bed with her and hug her to your body. Weird being the big spoon, but nice, in its own way. "I don't hate you."

"You should. Your father almost died because of me. Your mothers. You..."

"Oh. I didn't know I was hugging Samuel Buridan. Well that changes everything."

"He came to me. I let him in... I treated his wounds. I saved him from dying."

"Did you want to?"

"I let him do it. Your father was standing there and I just... let him do it."

"Did you want to?" You repeat.

"I had a knife. When he came. I could have... taken him down... fought him--"

"Talia. Talia, come here--" You struggle with her and get her to turn around in your embrace so you lie face-to-face. "Did you want to help him?"

She shakes her head.

"Then it isn't your fault."

Her mouth trembles. It's so strange to see her face streaked with tears, her mascara gunky and her usually stoic features all quivery. Maybe even stranger to hear her sniffling. "I'm a bad person," she says.

"No--"

"He's my brother. What's in him is in me." You shake your head emphatically. "And -- I'm a teacher who has sex with her own students--"

"Really good sex--"

"I'm a loser, I'm a -- nothing -- I can't stand -- me -- I'm such a coward."

"I love you," you say.

She holds her face to your chest and your shirt seeps through with her tears. She's still shivering. But in a tender voice, after many long minutes of crying, she says "I love you" back.

>[x] Fishing with K-Mom, Winter, and Summer!

>[x] Hiking with N-Mom and Liz!

>[x] Exploring with Amber and aunt Vivian!

>[x] Kayaking with Lily and Amelia!

>[x] Chilling at camp with Talia, Will, and Auburn!

[ ] Ghost stories with Olivia!

[ ] Custom!

---

There are over 100 people in line outside Shake 'em Up when the helicopter arrives. It touches down at the edge of the parking lot on a specially cordoned-off, tarped-off area. This causes commotion and general ill-ease. Folks on the ground have to shield their ears and faces from the howl of whipping wind and kicked-up dust -- including Amelia.

The chopper's rotors whir to a halt, the riveted door on the side slides open. Amelia watches, mouth trembling, as, removing their earmuffs, several upper-level executives from Darkbloom Enterprises file out. They wear sharp suits that probably cost more than a year's wages at the restaurant. Vivian Darkbloom, Whitney Soliloquy, and Alabaster Soliloquy are among the retinue. She recognizes them and hopes they will not recognize her back.

A young man bringing up the rear and holding a steel briefcase hands it off to Vivian, who takes it briskly in hand and leads the group past the serpentine line of stunned onlookers, towards the restaurant's entrance. As they pass, it is clear that they are deep in an important conversation that must not be interrupted. Amelia interrupts it anyway:

"Erm..." she asks, leaning just a little bit out of the single-file line. "Will the interviews be starting soon?"

The other hopefuls in line with her give her a look like she's a lunatic.

The executives stop in their tracks. Vivian seems somewhere on the gradient between frustrated to enraged. Whitney is bemusedly confused. Alabaster is just impatient. They all three continue on without replying. Amelia can actually feel herself withering in place where she stands, and contemplates leaving right then.

The young man who handed Vivian the briefcase stays outside. Clasping his hands together, he addresses the entire group:

"Hi! My name is Alex Best. I know you've all been waiting for a while, so please bear with us. Interviews will be the last phase of the process. We'll be reviewing applications prior to that at the tents over there." He points to a series of squat white tents, previously closed, which are just opening up to reveal worker bees seated at little tables inside. "Stay in line. You will be called forward in the order you came and processed. If you get selected for an interview, you will be sent to the waiting area over there." He points at another tent, a larger one, where there are some carafes full of water and lemonade for refreshment, along with chairs for resting. "You'll be called from the waiting area one by one to have your interview with the team." He flashes a smile specifically at Amelia. "Make sense?"

Amelia nods.

"Great." The next bit is directed at everyone: "We hope to see you inside!" And then he goes.

The process is tedious to the point of soul-sucking. By the time Amelia gets to one of the processing tents, her feet ache from standing so long in pumps and her makeup is running from sweating in the noonday sun. There she has to answer a series of rapid-fire and seemingly arbitrary pop-quiz style questions for an anonymous processor on topics from food safety (what temperature does beef need to reach to be safe for human consumption?) to knowledge of the company (what is Shake 'em Up's motto?) to number-sense (the customer pays for an order of $12.24 with a $20 bill; how much change are they due back?) to pure psychological interrogation (why do you want to work here?) The processor then reviews her resume for anything immediately disqualifying, and seeing nothing amiss, directs her to the waiting area for those lucky few who have made it to the interview portion. Maybe fewer than 10% of applicants get even this far, and Amelia counts herself lucky as she eyes the thinning herd.

Amelia is pouring herself some lemonade when that young man from before comes up behind her. She startles as, turning, putting the cup to her lips, she notices him. She lets out a little pip of surprise, splashing herself with droplets of the lemonade, and hopes to high heaven he didn't notice that. He either really didn't notice or at least has the tact to pretend as much. He just brushes past and gets a plastic cup for himself to fill. Smiling her way, he says: "it's cold and it's fresh and it's all homemade."

"B-bum bum bum," Amelia stammers, unsure, panicking internally over whether Mr. Best really meant to make the reference.

His laughter is easy and disarming. Amelia calms down at the positive reaction. "Killer weather, huh?" He says. "Sorry for the wait."

"It's fine." She glances around. "You have a lot of people who want to work here!"

"It's a great company to work for... the pay, the benefits... we're a big Shake 'em Up family here." He cringes at her put-on smile. "Oh God. I can't believe what I sound like. I'm really drinking the koolaid over here."

"Or lemonade, as the case may be," Amelia says.

They toast at the air between them and sip together.

"I swear it's not just buzz-speak," Alex promises. "We try to do right by our people."

"I know. I've been reading Glass Door reviews and all that -- I really want to get in."

Alex smiles brightly. "Just do your best! I'm sure you'll be fine."

Amelia watches him over the transparent rim of her cup as he turns for a refill. He's cute. VERY cute. Just her type, really, with his somewhat shaggy mop of hair and pale blue eyes and milky skin. He seems too... innocent, to be a corporate executive at such a humongous company.

"Word of advice," Alex says, turning, whispering as he shields his mouth with the cup he holds. "Focus on Whitney. Impress her -- and the job is yours. Don't worry about Vivian."

Amelia nods vigorously. "Gotcha ... thanks."

Alex winks, and Amelia feels like her heart could melt.

When at last Amelia is beckoned into the blessedly air conditioned diner, she finds her interviewers sitting all in a row at one of the booths: Alabaster at the far end, Whitney by the window, the short and intimidating Vivian in the middle. Since this location is closed today to accommodate the mass-interview process at hand, the atmosphere inside the diner has an eerily quiet tenseness to it. This space is at once too wide open and too claustrophobic.

"Oh." Vivian murmurs. "You made it past the filter." Amelia sits, heart thudding. There's a brief silence. Vivian motions with a palm. "Well? Let's see your resume."

"R-right," Amelia says, turning, and pulling a copy from the little file holder she has with her. She slides it across the tabletop.

Vivian reads intently, line-by-line. Whitney peeks for only a moment or two before becoming bored and looking away. Alabaster seems to be reading along over Vivian's shoulder, but not as closely, his eyes scanning.

"You have certainly been around," Vivian muses.

Amelia nods, although Vivian has her eyes peeled on the document.

Alabaster glances up. "It says here that you're no longer with your most recent employer. Why did you leave?"

"I was looking for something new. More challenging."

"You didn't have anything lined up before quitting?" Alabaster says.

"Erm -- no."

Vivian glances up now as well, gobsmacked. "Are you joking? But we're in the midst of the worst recession since 2020."

"I know," Amelia says with a tremulous voice. "I -- can't say it's not a scary time to be looking for work! But... I wasn't being used to the best extent-- or-- what I mean is--"

"You've got guts, I'll give you that," Whitney says.

"--Thank you," Amelia says, feeling things somewhat defused.

Whitney points. "Crazy as hell. But you've got guts."

Amelia gulps and looks away, unsure how to take that.

Whitney, gripping the edge of the table, leans partway across. She squints. "Say. You look kinda familiar. Do I know you?"

Amelia shrugs. But that's not enough to divert the tingles of where-do-I-know-your-face-from that now have arced like electricity from Whitney to Vivian to Alabaster. They all consider her, then give each other silent looks, probing their collective memory banks -- but all of them seem to come up blank.

Vivian picks the resume up again and leafs through it. "Miss... van der Boom -- I have concerns. You haven not held down a job for more than a year or two years at a stretch. Examples. Pottery Barn, August 2022 to October 2022. 7-Eleven, May 2021 to January 2022. Taco Bell, November 2020. Safeway, November... 2018 through... December... 20... 19..." Her widening eyes lift from the paper and her little jaw goes slack as the true recognition dawns. Alabaster is similarly mortified.

Only Whitney sees the humor. She loudly claps her hands together. "Heeeh. So THAT'S how we know you!" She turns towards the other two. "Small world. Huh?"

Amelia is crimson.

Vivian clears her throat and finds biting sarcasm beneath her embarrassment. "So. How many weeks may we expect you to work for our company before you quit without notice?"

"As long as you're a good employer," Amelia mutters at her own lap where she's worrying her hands.

"Excuse me?" Vivian snaps.

Amelia looks Vivian in the eye. Her voices goes steady and firm. "You can expect me to work here for as long as you're a good employer."

This doesn't placate Vivian: "I see. So it's our job to keep your every desire well-attended and satisfied."

"No. It's your job to keep me from wanting to leave."

Vivian is so perplexed by the brashness of Amelia's replies that she struggles to find any words at all. Finally she tries to hand Amelia back her resume. "I think we've heard eno--"

"I'm a good worker," Amelia says. "You can call any one of those employers on my resume and ask. Even the ones who employed me over a decade ago. They all remember me. They remember that I was the best worker they had. They remember being sad that I left. After I've been somewhere... it's very hard to fill the hole I leave behind."

"Is that so?" Vivian says.

Whitney has her chin on her hands, eager to see what comes next of these flying sparks. Alabaster is watching with a quirked eyebrow.

"It is so," Amelia says. "When I run a store, I run it as if it were my own business. I keep it clean. I keep it orderly. I keep the customers happy. I leave only when it's obvious that I'm the only one who cares about those things, or when management treats its workforce unfairly, or when I can tell that my efforts aren't being valued for the value they create."

"How impressive. I've never met such a proud minimum wage employee," Vivian says cruelly.

"Thank you," Amelia says sincerely. She draws a deep breath. "I don't have a college diploma and I don't know how to run the world the way the bigwigs like you can. But I'm good at the things I do. This store, for example -- I can tell it needs some work. I'd be happy to help. I want to help."

"This is Shake 'em Up #1," Vivian says. "It's our flagship location. What, pray-tell, do you in all your infinite wisdom feel needs improvement?"

Amelia stands. "Come with me."

She goes behind the counter. Alabaster and Whitney are quick to follow, Vivian sluggish.

"Whoever closed this store last night forgot to clean out the grease catches on the grill. You can smell it as soon as you walk in -- that congealed grease smell." She takes a spatula and swipes it across the inside lip of the grill's front. It comes back out with a nasty brown-and-yellow gunk along the chromed edge. She wipes it on a dish rag and sets the spatula back in its holder. "Nice sanitation here at your flagship location." She crosses over to the utensil holders sitting on the serving counter. "And look at this. These spoons are absolutely covered in water spots. Does anyone at your flagship location know how to do a vinegar rinse?" She thumbs through some of the spoons, holding them up to the light to demonstrate. Then she swings around the serving counter again, to inspect the permanently-mounted stools where customers sit. She presses on a couple of them with a flattened palm: "Wobbly. Wobbly. Oh, look -- gum on the underside. Poorly maintained seating here at your flagship. How does a customer like sitting on a wobbly, gum-encrusted stool?" She goes to the opposite wall before anyone can answer, to one of the windows by the booths there, and runs her fingers across the top of the Venetian blinds. "Uh huh. I see you like bunnies at your flagship location -- dust bunnies." She holds her palm before her face, puckers her lips, and blows. Vivian scrunches her face and sneezes at the shower of dust that sprays out. Alabaster coughs.

"We've seen enough, miss van der Boom," Vivian says.

"Me too. You can insult me all you want, but I know what I'm worth. Hire me or don't -- but you won't take that away from me."

"Why do you want to work here?" Alabaster asks.

So it's that question again. Amelia opens her mouth, ready to recite the same bullshit spiel she gave to the drone who first processed her, but then thinks better of it. "I need the money," she admits. "You pay a lot more than most of the places I'm qualified for."

"So you'll come in and fix everything wrong with whatever Shake 'em Up in the valley we send you to," Alabaster says, skeptical.

"I'll go above and beyond in whatever position you put me in. I can't do it all by myself. But I'll do everything I can within my power, with all my heart, and that's a promise."

"How are you with customers?" Whitney wants to know.

"Whitney," Vivian murmurs, turning her head, impatient to ends things.

"When you aren't catchin' 'em fuckin'," Whitney adds, literally elbowing Vivian. Vivian reddens.

"I'm always nice with customers. Until they get too unruly, and then I gently see them out."

"We'll be in touch," Vivian says. "Please go."

Amelia glances at Whitney.

"Uhh -- yeah," Whitney says. She points back and forth from Vivian to Alabaster. "We'll infer and then let you know if we pick you."

"Confer," Alabaster says.

"We'll give you a ring."

"If we pick you," Vivian adds -- emphasis on "if."

---

Amelia crosses the sunbaked parking lot and finds her rattly, rusty subcompact parked across the street, at the curb, with not one but two pink parking tickets pinned under her wipers. She rips them away without looking at them and plops down in the driver's seat. She rests her forehead on the searingly hot steering wheel, rubs it back and forth to feel the wrinkling of the skin on her skull. Her mettle has entirely collapsed, replaced with despair, and now she repeats "no, no, no, no, no..." to herself -- trying to drown out the self-hatred and self-anger. She slaps the wheel with one palm and then the other like a metronome. "No, no, no, no..." How spectacularly can someone mess up a job interview? Well. Start by getting into an argument with the person interviewing you...

She sits bolt upright when there's a gentle tap on her window. Alex Best is standing outside. She cracks open the door since the window on her side can't roll down.

"Are you all right, uh..."

"Amelia."

"Amelia. I saw you coming out and you seemed upset."

"I got eaten alive."

"Vivian?"

Amelia nods sadly.

"Do you mind if I..." Alex says, making a little motion with an index finger to indicate getting into the car with her. Amelia shrugs, so he does. He lays a hand on her arm. "It's a tough economy. I know. But you seem really nice. If they say no, I'm sure you'll find something."

"I had something. I *have* something. But I'm too scared to..." she trails off, shakes her head. "Thanks, Mr. Best."

"Alex. Please."

Amelia wipes her eyes to get rid of any incipient tears. "You're nice, too, Alex." Glancing down at his hand on her arm, she notices his wedding band. He's nice and also married. Of course.

"I can take another copy of your resume, if you have one," he says. "Put in a good word with Whitney. And if there's anything else I can do... here... how about these tickets? At least let me take care of those. You only got them because we kept you waiting so long your meter ran out of time."

Amelia considers Alex with jaded eyes as he takes the parking slips from her dashboard where she tossed them. Is he genuinely such a sweet person, or is he a philandering bastard trying to schmooze his way to an easy lay? Either way... he'd be fun to surprise... and he'd probably be into it, too, the little -- oh, but that's only an idle passing fantasy for the dirty part of her mind that flares up when she's stressed. The prospect of following through on it sends shivers of mortification up her spine. She could never.

Another surprising knock at the window, on Alex's side. Alabaster Soliloquy. Alex rolls the window down.

"What would Sable say?" Alabaster asks with a frown.

"Oh, Ally, don't be like that. I just wanted to make sure she was okay after whatever Vivian did to her. She got this poor lady half in tears. I thought you were going to keep a lid on her, huh?"

"Well, I didn't," Alabaster says. He gives Amelia a curt nod. "When can you start?"

Amelia gawps at him.

---

"I cannot believe you," Vivian says once Alabaster hurries out and she's alone with Whitney in the restaurant.

"What?"

"What? WHAT? What do you mean, WHAT? There is a process, Whitney--"

"Process schmocess--"

"--we agreed to confer *after* we finish the interviews, to rank-order the applicants, assign the top 30 to a prioritized list of store locations, and send out our offers a week from now."

"Okay."

There's a long silence.

"Well?" Vivian demands. "What happened to that?"

"When you know, you know," Whitney says. "Simple as."

"We agreed to this. So for you to run off, half-cocked... to immediately extend an offer -- to a woman who was so impetuous and rude and so obviously flighty and flaky--"

"Hey!" Whitney barks. "I remember another thing we agreed to! That Shake 'em Up is MY business, 100%, that you and Dad don't get to supervene me, or whatever... that this is my show! This is Whitney's show! You said!"

"This is not Whitney's show! It absolutely, positively, is not Whitney's show--"

"You are here to advise. That's it. So get with the advising and leave the decising to me." She jerks a thumb at her own chest.

"Fine. I am advising you in the strongest possible terms to think twice before hiring a liability like Amelia van der Boom."

Whitney points at Vivian. "Advice rejected."

Vivian glowers.

Whitney puts her hands on her hips. "You're just pissed because she dunked on you. You're so owned right now."

"I am not owned," Vivian says.

"You're owned."

"I am not owned!! I am not owned!!!"

Whitney, shaking her head, turns towards the window. "It's fine. If she doesn't work out, we either fire her or she quits. Economy like this, we'll have 200 more people beating down the door to replace her."

"Just tell me one thing," Vivian demands.

"What?"

"That you aren't only hiring her because she has a penis."

Whitney wheels. "Excuse the fuckety fuck out of me?"

Vivian stares. "You... did notice that she has a penis. Right?"

"What are you talking about? Are you tripping acid or something right now? Or did you develop X-ray vision all of a sudden."

Sitting down again at the booth where they've been speaking with interviewees, Vivian sighs and says, "must I recite my long list of observations -- the musky scent, the bulge in her slacks, the way she walked to hide it... or will you trust my perception on at least one thing today?"

"Oh, I can trust a hose hound like you to sniff out some hose," Whitney laughs. "It's just a surprise is all."

"Do you want me to--" the man sitting across from Vivian begins, pointing over his shoulder at the door.

"Your interview will begin in a moment," Vivian tells him. "Please be patient."

"If I knew Amelia had a dick, I'd be the one running out to give her the offer," Whitney says. "Ally doesn't need another badass blonde bitch to peg him. His butt is sore enough already."

"Spare me the mental images."

Whitney nudges Vivian's shoulder from behind. "Are you just embarrassed still? Over how she saw you getting creamed in the middle of a Safeway that one time?"

"No."

"Because she totally saw you two, and she was cool about it. Wasn't she? So what's your major issue here?"

"She isn't going to work out," Vivian says. "That's all there is to it. Then I will be the first to say I told you so."

"Ehh, maybe," Whitney says. "But I've got a good feeling about this one." She slides in beside Vivian, forcing her to scooch, and half whispers: "...you're sure about the penis?"

"Ask her yourself if you don't believe me."

Whitney grins in a way that makes it clear she intends to.

That interview was seven years ago. Amelia's been at Store #1 ever since.

---

Amelia's first-ever tour of Darkbloom Enterprises went off the beaten path. She wound up in one of the private rooms set aside for employee naps. This room is just large enough for a twin-size bed and a one-drawer nightstand. A lamp atop the nightstand can toggle between different colors. She and Alex have it set to a 15 Watt flamingo pink that seems purpose-made for fucking under -- if that isn't the intent of the setting, Amelia can't fathom what is. Her clothes are strewn around the cramped space and she lies naked, on her back, head resting on her folded arms, propped on some pillows against the headboard.

From this supremely comfy pose, she doesn't need to do anything more than lie there and enjoy herself. Alex is doing all the work.

Sweaty, breathy, heaving, and hard, Alex bounces on Amelia's cock. He's as naked as she is, save the employee badge card he didn't bother to shuck off, which hangs around his neck on a long black lanyard. He's propped on all fours, his belly towards the ceiling and his crown towards Amelia's feet. It's an almost gymnastic pose and he fucks himself on Amelia's cock with gymnastic stamina, up and down, up and down relentlessly, his pointy jaw yawning in pleasure and his hair matted by perspiration. Amelia loves to watch him go. Alex is so feminine in mannerism and voice, girlish down to the gentle prettiness of his face. But nude, he's unmistakably male -- hard taut tummy, flat chest and hips -- and although he's far from a bodybuilder, underneath his skin is the clear impression of a male's musculature. Then of course there's the most obviously male part of all: his swaying nuts and stiff cock. In his crablike position, Alex's dick is like something alien grafted onto him, sticking out at an awkward and prominent angle, impossible not to stare at if she tried. It bounces half out of sync with Alex himself, thwacking against his navel, making a syncopated beat that melds with the jingly clatter of the lanyard and badge card against his pecs.

Another thing Amelia loves to watch is the way her dick sinks to its base in Alex's soft snug fuckhole. The way the ring of his anus distends and blanches and clings to the veiny hardness of her rigid shaft. The way his cheeks undulate and plap with the force of his masturbatory humping. A boy as delicate as Alex is just begging to get pinned down and raped until he passes out -- Amelia would love to -- but even if she crawled on top of him, put him in a full-nelson and fucked him until his brain broke, she would hardly be able to treat Alex as cruelly as he does on her behalf. Alex willfully uses Amelia's cock to destroy his own boypussy with a single-minded determination both cute and hot.

But the hottest thing of all is that Alex isn't even doing this out of the subservient impulse to please her. He's doing it to get himself off like the bitch he is, to drive himself to a creamy orgasm by breaking his ass on her futa dick. He's doing it for the sake of his own cum. Amelia can tell. Alex is a greedy, nasty little slut at heart, and his submissiveness is the trick by which he convinces people to dominate him until he blows his load. But he's so pretty bouncing on top of her, his ass is so warm and tight and wet against her bare cock, that she'll let him have his fun. She'll be Alex's living dildo for as long as he's willing to be her walking onahole.

The gaspy little noises and squeaks he makes, his drawling "unh, unh" of mind-melted pleasure, make Amelia's heart swell with equal measures of sadism and adoration. He's cutest when he's most desperate. His cuteness makes her want to kind of hurt him. Amelia gently tweaks her own nipples and runs a palm sensually up and down her body. She fights the urge to help Alex whatsoever, doesn't fuck him back even a little bit. All he gets from her are the wonderful little involuntary twitches and throbs of her pleasure-soaked cock inside his body. Although she's on fire with the ape-like instinct to swing her hips and mash her cock into Alex's hot cunt until she squirts... it's more fun letting him work himself into a frenzied lather. He's such a little spinner. An Energizer bunny who'll bounce and bounce all day long if she lets him. She just may.

Amelia can't ignore the juicy-looking toy whipping like a flicked doorstopper in front of her face. The moment her soft palm wraps around the base of Alex's cutely flopping penis, he lets out a particularly shrill little moan of pleasure and looses a warm little spurt of transparent precum from his piss slit. Amelia holds him loosely, teasingly, and jerks his foreskin up and down across the sensitive mushroom head in slow strokes. His whole body shivers, inside and out, sending electric tendrils of pleasure down Amelia's engorged fuckmeat. She likes what she's seeing. Although Alex isn't as freakishly well-endowed, he's no slouch either, especially in girth. He's got a fat, hot, masculine cock. Amelia's pussy, already wet and crying out for attention, clenches with the thought of letting a dick like this sink into her. She finds herself more comfortable, generally, with women, and if she had to choose she would choose orgasming from her cock first and foremost. But there's something to be said for getting hammered by a nice hard dick and letting it cum inside. She can't wait to see Alex's reaction the first time she invites him to fuck her raw.

Alex is still wagging his hips and Amelia is still languidly jerking him off when an intruder finds them.

"What the hell! You're both still on company time, you know!" Whitney slyly checks the hall outside the room to see if anyone is nearby before slipping in and closing the door behind her.

"Wouldn't be the first time you paid me to get fucked," Alex says, a perverted rasp to his voice. He doesn't break pace at all. He just keeps rubbing his slut-button on Amelia's cock. Little fucking freak.

With a toe, Whitney tests one of the articles of clothing on the ground -- Alex's boxers, as it turns out. "Yeesh. I was wondering what the hell was taking you guys so long."

"We'll be done soon," Amelia promises, surprised to find herself a little out of breath.

"Pffh," Whitney pouts. One side of her mouth puffs up.  

"Oh? You want some, too?" Amelia asks. Whitney's gotten so much in the past couple days that Amelia is honestly surprised the woman could want any more. Alabaster's aside the other night between marathon rounds -- "you can't cum inside her enough, trust me" -- wasn't idle dirty talk or hyperbole, but a warning, one Amelia didn't heed.

"I don't have any more meetings today," Whitney says as she shimmies free of her business clothes and tosses them on the ground with the rest. She approaches the foot of the bed. "I am a little hungry, though," she adds with a twinkle in her eye.

Amelia spreads her meaty thighs. "Come eat."

Alex rises to his haunches to grant Whitney some space to lie prone between Amelia's legs. And the darling never, ever stops bouncing. Amelia rewards him by tightening her hold on his dick and jerking him a little faster.

"Well? How do you like Mel's cock?" Whitney asks.

"It's good... it's so good..." Alex pants. "It's... turning me into s-such a, such a... fffffffucking bitch..."

"You were already a bitch," Whitney reminds him. Eyes crossing, nostrils being invaded by Amelia's sexy smell, Whitney lets out a moaning murmur and then plants a wet kiss on Amelia's balls: "Mmmmmm... mwah." But her prize is underneath those sweaty, slime-covered nuts. She parts them to find Amelia's cunt slit.

As much as Whitney loved getting spitroasted by Ally and Mel the other night, she's still a born carpet muncher too, and Amelia's carpet is a delight to munch -- a peachy, wet, and womanly hole, so hot and so squishy and so easy to latch her lips onto. Whitney moans again when she gets her mouth on Mel's glistening twat. Even the taste of it is perfect, bitter and pungent like spunk but girlish and light like cream too.

Now this, Amelia thinks, is the life. Both sets of genitals getting top-class service, and she doesn't have to lift a finger. A dyke eating her out and a faggot using his insides to massage her horny prick: can it get any better? Whitney's pussy-licking is lewd and loud, wet suckles and smooches echoing throughout the room. Every once in a while she pauses to kiss Amelia at the union of hers and Alex's bodies, or to go even lower and probe Amelia's tightly puckered asshole with the slimy tip of her tongue -- but mostly, and selfishly, Whitney stays latched to that honey-sweet cunt in between, and sucks the neverending stream of juice from Amelia's overheated hole.

"I'm gonna cum," Alex whines. "I, I'm gonna -- gonna cum like a girl on you, Mel--!!" Amelia lets go of Alex's prick. "Unh--" he moans, blueballed.

"If you want to cum like a girl, cum like a girl," Amelia says. "Go on."

Alex is too greedy, though. Still swinging his hips, he tries to jerk himself off to completion. Shamelessly, urgently, he faps himself as he screws Amelia's dick. Amelia puts a stop to such bratty behavior right away. She takes Alex by both wrists and pulls him a little further forward, meanwhile rooting him in place atop her massive cock. This roughness surprises him. He pauses, his eyes shooting open to meet Amelia's. For just a moment, he lets Amelia hold him there like that. But lust overcoming him again, he decides that if she won't let him touch himself, he can at least go back to bouncing. He gets a couple squelching humps in before Amelia tightens her grip and pulls down on his wrists even harder to force him stone-still. Fully impaled atop her, he's unable to fuck at all. His cock strains and throbs and reddens, showing plainly how desperate for stimulation of any kind it is. "Ahhnn--" Alex sighs. He grinds his hips back and forth, corkscrews himself and writhes, the only type of movement he can manage. But what he really wants is to keep fucking himself up and down, to feel Amelia's splendid cock plunge in and out of his pussy like a piston until it makes him spray his baby batter. "Mel... please..."

Amelia's voice is that of a gently chiding mother: "No. Hold still."

"Melllll..."

"Shh. Just sit there. That's it. Doesn't that feel nice?"

"Melllll... pleeeeeease..."

Her voice threads the needle of gentleness and capricious cruelty. "Do you feel me inside you? Do you feel how hard I am inside you, Alex, baby? I'm all the way in... allll the way in. Sit on me and cum like a girl if that's what you want so much. Come on." Amelia rises just a little on the pillows and cranes her neck to watch the dark mop of Whitney's bobbing head. "Keep licking me like that, Whitney. I'll cum on your face, okay?"

Whitney says nothing, but nods enthusiastically and keeps on sucking. Amelia's balls resting heavily on her forehead make such an obscene sight.

"Ahh -- ahh -- ahh," Alex gasps, his voice as high as a schoolgirl. He presses his ass down on Amelia's crotch with all his weight and grinds himself, hard, forcing the head of her cock against the engorged nub of his prostate. Meanwhile, involuntarily, his ass milks her shaft and tightens up, until her cock turns plum-colored from the constriction. "I'm cumming! I'm fucking cumming!" He cries triumphantly, and his pathetic dick shoots off without any contact. Not in a big, ceiling-spattering arc, but in a long, slow, gooey, oozing series of pulsing streams, that rumble through his shaft so powerfully the waves are visible. He cums so much his throbbing prick looks like it's been dipped in wax as the load goes seeping down towards Amelia's belly and pools in her navel.

Finally, unable to contain herself any longer, Amelia fucks. She keeps Alex's wrists pinned to the mattress on either side of her waist and pounds his hole in a brutal series of thrusts that come fast, hard, and oh so fucking deep. The almost hollow cacophony of flesh wetly slapping flesh must be audible from the halls outside, but neither Amelia nor Alex nor Whitney give a shit. Dazed, Alex stares transfixed at the way Amelia's entire body ripples underneath him with the raw force of her fuck. Her sweaty tits and her cum-smeared, pudgy tummy, her wide hips, her fat thighs, all seem to be made of Jello -- and yet that prong inside him seems to be made of unalloyed steel, as it fucks him straight past his guts and into the very core of his soul. And then she's cumming all over the fucking place, hosing down Alex's inner walls with gobs and gobs of jizz and creaming Whitney's face -- making a nasty, sticky, smelly mess of the little room and both her willing fucktoys.

Alex commits to memory the look on Amelia's face at the moment she orgasms with both her pussy and cock. She completely loses her composure, her expression contorting into a droopy, lolling, O-mouthed caricature of purified lust. Her moaning, so deep and guttural, so sex-crazed and stupid, is enough to keep Alex's cummy prick erect. In that delicious and all-too-brief interval of climax, Amelia is no longer a sentient creature, but wholly and solely a conduit for the pleasure of her gushing cunt, her spurting dick.

When it's over, when Amelia comes back to her senses with long satisfied sighs, and Alex painfully dismounts -- Whitney is on cleanup. Her face already looking like a glazed donut, she doesn't hesitate at all to suck the spunk from Alex's gaping asshole. Alex whines anew, his fists balled up by his chest, and Amelia keeps him spread for Whitney's convenience. She gets her tongue nice and deep, slurps loudly, and practically gargles Amelia's jelly-thick cock load. Amelia loves the way Whitney's pink tongue looks when it's swimming and halfway submerged in a frothy pool of fresh semen, the way her face looks when it's plastered with girlcum and dripping spunk off her lips and chin.

When Whitney finishes cleaning out Alex's butt with her mouth, she stands unsteadily on the bed and forces a French kiss on him.

"Whit-ney--" he stammers.

She yanks him by a tuft of hair, bringing his head back. "Help me eat it, you dirty little bitch," she sneers. And with that, she makes Alex snowball Amelia's load back and forth between their mouths.

Amelia has another inviting view to enjoy: a brown, toned tomboy ass. High-powered executive and MILF she may be, Whitney still finds the time to work out and play sports. Her legs are well-muscled, her bubble butt is tight and bouncy. Tanlines ring her legs and hips, leaving her butt and crotch somewhat paler than the rest of her. This only accentuates how mouth-watering that ass looks. Amelia parts Whitney's cheeks, dives in, and pigs out.

"Ooooh," Whitney squeaks, a bit surprised. She glances back over her shoulder. "That tickles."

"Want me to stop?" Amelia says with a smirk.

Whitney pushes Amelia into her butt again with a hand on the back of Amelia's skull. "Fuck no. Lick that ass." And as Amelia starts to rim her in earnest, Whitney goes back to helping Alex swallow that creamy load of cum. It's bittersweet both literally and figuratively as the last of it slides down her gullet. But there's more on tap, always -- and Whitney is excited to take the next juicy load in her womb.

---

You help Talia clean up. She's still sore and has trouble lifting her arms much above her head. The whole process of getting her out of her bloodied outfit from yesterday, steering her into the shower, soaping her, rinsing her, toweling her off, reapplying the bandage, and helping her dress again -- isn't sexually charged in the slightest. She's grunting too much in pain with every small movement, and trembles too much from the residue of her sobbing fit, for you to think about fooling around. For now, all you care about is getting her back to a somewhat tolerable normal. So your touches are more mechanical than erotic, and more gentle than lustful. You better fucking get an A on every essay and exam she assigns forever.

Small snag: the fact that she has no fresh clothes of her own. Seeing as you're close in size, you lend her some of yours. (Make that an A+ on everything forever.) She looks cute in baggy jeans and a tee. The tee's front has a stylized penguin holding a gun, and some Kanji you can't decipher. Talia examines the art from above, pulling at the shirt's material so it deforms into a trapezoid around her chest. It makes you cringe at the damage she may be doing.

"Careful with the drip. That shirt costs $1,500."

Talia, still pinching the shirt from either end, meets your eyes. Instead of relenting, she pulls even harder, purposely stretching it.

"Hey!"

"Wes. I own this same shirt. It was $34 when I bought it. What kind of markup are you paying?" She cocks her head. "I happen to know you quite well. You might be the daughter of a billionaire, but you aren't the type to spend thousands on T-shirts. You're a Gap sort of girl."

"I don't shop at The Gap, okay? Fuck you."

She lets go of the shirt and pulls at one of the several front pockets of her (your) pants. Twists in place to look at her own ass. Pulls at a loose thread on one of the belt loops. "These are definitely Gap jeans. If you didn't buy them there, someone else did. ... Do your mothers buy your school clothes for you?"

This woman could be a fucking mentalist if she wanted. You try and fail to sputter something out, some easy defense. Talia watches your struggle with interest while meanwhile a tiny, tiny, tiny grin spreads at the corners of her lips. That alone, that infinitesimal glimpse of happiness in her expression, is almost worth the humiliation that burns under your scalp. Still--

You shruggingly put your hands in your pockets. "If you're going to get off on degrading me, at least do it in a sexy way..."

Talia arches her eyebrows. "Noted."

"Don't note that."

"Too late."

You cross into the Winnebago's kitchenette. "Are you hungry?"

Talia nods, just slightly, and only once.

"We have some leftover Taco Bell in the fridge."

Talia shakes her head, just slightly, and only once.

You frown. "Well then I'm all out of ideas."

She approaches the fridge anyway and takes a look inside. "How about some eggs?"

Someone must have gone into town and gotten some real food while you were sleeping off all the dirty sex. Talia produces a carton of jumbo eggs and a bag of shredded cheese.

"Sounds good -- I'll cook." You try to take the ingredients from her but she stops you with a palm against your chest. "What?" You demand.

"Allow me to recap some Wesley Keki facts I know. You're 16 years old, but your mothers are still buying your school clothes and making your lunch for you every day. You're under the impression that leftover Taco Bell is edible food. Your bedroom is filled with empty cartons of cup-soup and tubes of Pringles. You don't know how to properly wash your hair or your laundry--"

"Is this sexy to you? Do you find this sexy?" You demand. "Are you doing some kind of sex thing right now?"

"I highly doubt you can cook. I appreciate your attempt to make me feel better. Honestly. But I can manage cooking my own breakfast. I'll even make some for you. My eggs are great -- old family recipe. Do you want to know what the secret ingredient is?" You stare. She holds up the shredded cheese. "It's cheese. Also not burning it."

You set your jaw. "I was nice to you and everything."

She boops your nose.

"I lent you my clothes," you remind her. "I can always take them back."

Talia eyes an apron hanging on a hook nearby. "And make me slave away in a naked apron? How anime of you. I'm unopposed."

You cross the center aisle and crawl onto the sectional on your knees to peer through the window at the activity happening outside. No one seems to be on their way over to the RV or even thinking about it at the moment -- too busy making preparations for whatever inane, outdoorsy activity they have planned.

You glance back at Talia. She roots through a cabinet until she finds a little skillet, which she sets it on the stovetop to heat. "Scrambled or fried?" She asks.

[ ] "Take off your clothes."

>[x] Eat first. Lewd later.

"Make me an omelette," you say.

"Fancy," Talia says. She cracks a couple eggs and whisks them in the pan, then lets them solidify over the low heat.

You watch her cook. It's something so simple, but she does it with such obvious care and concentration. She wants to do the best she can with the simple ingredients at hand. A little salt, a little cracked black pepper, a little cheese, sparingly added, and gently cooked. The omelette neither crumbles nor misfolds when she flips it over itself, and it isn't even a tiny bit singed. She plates it and gets to work on hers. She makes hers the same as yours.

Standing at opposite sides of the bartop counter, you eat your omelettes together. She's obviously consterned when you reach for a bottle of ketchup and demands, "you're going to ruin my cooking with that?"

"No," you say.

"Oh. That's good."

"I'm going to enhance your cooking with it."

She sighs. You upend the bottle and drizzle the ketchup liberally over the food.

There's an interval of silence as you each focus on your food.

"Thanks," you mutter between mouthfuls.

Talia glances up. She swallows her current bite and considers her response. "Thank you," she says at last. "For helping me out. For taking me along to this place. For... trusting me."

You've never done well with praise and thanks directed at you. "Yeah, well. You're lucky Dad got shot. He was about to rip you a new asshole for sleeping with me..."

"In the good way or the bad way?"

"Bad way. I think. ... I hope." Talia looks concerned, so you add: "he won't report you or anything. He's got bigger things to worry about than that. Plus I told him that it was me putting the moves on you, not the other way around."

"Well, that's true," Talia says.

"Is it, though? Is it?"

"I just hope he's okay."

You shrug. You can't make any promises. Instead, you ask, "what's up with your brother? Why is he such a freak?"

Talia's expression darkens. "I don't want to talk about that."

"I'm sor--"

"But you deserve to know. Unfortunately I can't really help." You eat slowly as she explains. "When we were younger, Sam wasn't too into being an Orthodox Jew -- he and I share that. We share a lot. He never believed in Yaweh or dietary restrictions or resting on the Shabbat. But he wanted to believe in something, so he found Instrumentalism. I lost contact with him after that. He was about 19 then. He's 32 now. All I can say about him today is that Sam is a dyed-in-the-wool believer. He thinks he's a footsoldier for some new world order. Don't ask me specifics. I haven't spoken word one to him since he had his conversion and our parents disowned him. But if you find a way to kill him, sign me up. I want front row seats."

"Why does he hate you so much?"

Talia takes your now-empty plate and brings it to the sink with hers. "That's not really relevant to the situation."

"Is it because you're--"

"No. I don't know. You'd have to ask him. ... But don't. If you see him, shoot him." She rinses the silverware off and glances at you from the side. "Sam's never been right in the world. We share that, too. He's... off. He doesn't see things like other people do. He thinks he's above them. Separate from them." She focuses now on scrubbing the plates clean. "What I am... is just another thing for him to use against me. He does that. He finds a way inside your head. But there's nothing inside his. He's empty inside. Soulless."

She shuts off the water and puts the dishes and forks in the strainer beside.

"I think we share that, too," she adds in a small voice.

"No you don't," you tell her.

She tries to smile, but awkwardly. "You're helping me start to think otherwise. Thank you for that, too."

---

Kay and the Denali sisters are dressed to brave dense clouds of skeeters and other bitey wildlife: all thick jeans and khaki vests and longsleeve plaid shirts and waders and bucket hats. It's sweltering, but better than coming home looking like an experiment in pointillism gone awry.

Winter tries again to convince Gideon to go fishing with them. "I haven't seen you in so long, daddy... please?" She not only hits him with the "daddy" but also her biggest doe eyes and saddest frowny face, but he doesn't budge.

"You have fun. I need to coordinate a few things with Tyrus and Alabaster. I'll be here when you get back... ready to eat the juiciest catfish you catch."

Winter pulls a face. "I hate catfish. I'm catching trout."

"Then trout me up, Cuddles."

Winter mutters angrily.

"You guys ready?" Kay asks.

"Hold on, hold on-- just gotta check--" Summer says, rummaging through her knapsack, her tongue poking slightly out from her lips. After long moments of searching, she finds what she wants with a happy pip of surprise. She holds it up to demonstrate. It's a travel-sized bottle of cocoa butter lotion. "Yep! Ready Freddy," she says, grinning ear-to-ear.

"The fish are gonna eat you alive," Winter says.

Summer's smile drops. "What? What does that even mean?" She glances at Kay for help: "can we uninvite her?"

"No." Kay throws her own knapsack over her shoulder, squats slightly, and picks up her tackle box. Winter has the rods, and Summer has the cooler. "We're gonna catch some fishies. Whoever catches the fewest gets to gut them."

Kay and Winter share a cruel little chuckle as Summer anxiously looks at her manicured hands. "I did not agree to this--"

"Oh sure you did," Kay says. "Don't worry, though. It's only incentive to try hard. First place gets a reward."

"Ooh," Winter says, perking up. "What kinda reward?"

"That would be spoiling it, now wouldn't it?"

"This is so freaking stupid..." Summer says under her breath. "Goddamn riggers."

"WHAT?" Kay says.

"What?"

"...Oh. Never mind."

Noelle passes by with Liz in tow. "Back by 6?"

Kay nods. "Yeah, we don't wan-- Jesus, Noelle. You do intend to be back by 6 *tonight*, right?"

Noelle shrugs to shift the weight of her massive backpack and gets her thumbs under the straps around her chest. "What?"

"What is all this shit you're carrying? A bedroll? An umbrella? You're going on a nature hike. Walking up and down a beginner's trail for a couple of hours, max. Not climbing Everest." Kay gets behind her and starts to root through the backpack's many pouches. "How much fucking trail mix do you need, anyway? Trying to gain a couple hundred pounds while you're out and about?"

"Mind your own business, Kayleigh," Noelle sneers. Liz watches with a wry smile. So do Winter and Summer. Noelle shuffles her feet, cranes her neck, tries to see what all Kay is doing behind her, but can't -- her burden is just too massive to peek over. "I'm trying to stay prepared, is all! Unlike some people."

"Signal flares? A space blanket? A 24-pack of AA batteries, another one of AAAs, another one of 9 volts... flashlight, flashlight, flashlight... matches... flashlight... portable tent, MREs... *bear repellent*?"

"We're in the woods! Bears live in the woods, in case you were wondering!"

"They shit there, too," Summer says.

"I thought that was the Pope," Liz says.

"Got any Pope repellent?" Winter asks.

"Shut up! All of you just shut up!"

Kay puts away everything she was snooping through, just as she found it. She zips up all of Noelle's pouches and makes sure nothing is poking out of the overstuffed backpack. Then she dashes over to a tree on the other side of the camp.

"Kay?"

"Quick!" She hollers through cupped hands. "Get your bear spray out!"

"What?--"

Kay raises her arms high above her head and adopts a wide stance, hopping from foot to foot as she totters forward towards her wife. "I'm a bear! I'm gonna eat ya! Think quick! Get your bear spray out and spray me!"

"This is ridi--"

"Rawr! I'm comin for ya!" Hop, hop, hop. "Here I come!"

"Oh Jesus." Noelle unclasps the strap around her belly securing her backpack and lets it fall from her shoulders to the ground. It kicks up huge, dusty plumes when it lands. She starts looking from pouch to pouch as Kay draws ever closer.

"Roar! Roar! I'm a hungry bear! I like to eat scrawny, pale women with shitty diets! Roar!"

"You can't just SAY the word roar--"

"Roar!"

Noelle is flapping flaps and unzipping zippers, turning her pack, with some difficulty, this way and that, frantically searching for the can of bear repellent. Kay looms. Noelle begins to actually panic, not over the hypothetical threat of ursine violence, but over the prospect that her wife is going to embarrass her by proving she's over-packed.

"Here I come! Gonna eat ya!"

Noelle finds the can at the last second, whips it out, and points it at the advancing Kay. But Kay, lunging, tackles her onto her back and knocks it from her hand. Noelle is red in the face and heaving and choking on dust. Kay, atop her, is grinning.

"You bitch," Noelle fumes, still hacking.

"Roar." Kay nips at Noelle's cheek.

"I -- had it out in time. You saw that... right?"

"I saw you eat shit when I jumped on top of you."

Noelle brings her breathing under control again, although her voice still rasps from the dust caught in the back of her throat. "If you were actually a bear, I would have sprayed you. I had it out in time."

"Uh huh. And like most bears, I stayed in an open clearing, announced my presence well in advance, and approached you at a leisurely trot. You passed the test. Congrats. You should be just fine out there on those bear-infested trails."

Noelle pushes against Kay, who refuses to move. "Get off me."

"You were saying that in a different order last night."

Noelle blushes. Kay, satisfied enough with that, obeys, and rises. She even helps Noelle up with a proffered hand.

As Kay gathers up the fishing gear again, Noelle dusts her knees and pantlegs off and puts her bear repellent back in the backpack -- right in the same compartment where it was before.

"Back at 6, then?" Liz says.

"Yeah," Noelle grunts.

---

Noelle's feet hurt just a couple hundred yards on from the trailhead. After another couple hundred yards, her insoles throb so agonizingly they're all she can think about. She trudges along and tries not to let on that she's in any distress.

Liz is distracted, anyway. She looks all around at the dense canopy overhead. The leaves in this part of the country have only just begun to turn color, but there are a few patches of dazzling reds, yellows, and oranges here and there. The greenery surrounding it is still lush, and the sounds of nature are nearly deafening. Noelle hates it. She keeps her attention peeled on a grey bunny that's hopping along shoulder of the path and watching them intently in its skittery, twitchy, leporine way. It's mostly concealed in the tall grass but Noelle can glimpse it following them for many long moments before it finally turns tail and flees in a moment of inexplicable panic. Noelle dearly wishes that she could be somewhere else with a different kind of bunny right now.

"How long have you and Kay been married?" Liz asks.

"Huh? Oh, you know..."

"No, I don't. That's why I'm asking."

Noelle tries a different tack. "Too long." This makes Liz tilt her head a little. Noelle's eyes go wide. She stops in place and shakes both hands in front of her like trying to ward off a mugger. "No no no," she sputters. "I don't mean it like that!" She draws a deep breath. "I love Kay to death. Til death do us part. Actually -- I think I love her more today than when we got married. Every day I wake up loving her a little more and wondering how I got so lucky. I'm way too lucky... I'm the luckiest girl in the world, I think."

"Then what do you mean too long?"

"Just that... when I think about how long it's been since then, I feel like an old hag."

"Ah," Liz says. "Well. You don't look the part." She turns and continues on down the trail. Noelle rushes to catch her up.

"Thanks. You're pretty, too. ... uh ... that's small talk. Don't take that as a come-on or anything just because I'm--"

Liz laughs. "It's fine. Even if you meant it as a come-on. You aren't the only one who can feel like a hag sometimes... at my age, I'd appreciate turning anyone on."

"You're joking, right?" Noelle laughs. "The way you dress in your commercials--"

"Hmmm?"

Noelle tries to find the words to praise Liz without looking thirsty. "You definitely turn... people... on. You don't need to be modest about it. That's the whole draw, isn't it?"

Liz laughs. "Oh, those commercials were shot years ago! The only new content are the the voiceovers I do for fresh inventory and sales. But -- the fact you can't tell the difference is flattery in its own right!" She stretches her back. "Think I could still pull off the cop outfit, then?" She asks.

"Better than me. Your commercials are... you-- well. Anyway."

They walk along a little ways, admiring the many-colored flower bushes in late bloom along the trail.

"Gideon did have another wife at the same time he was with me, you know," Liz reminds her. "We shared him, but it wasn't..." She trails off, smiles at Noelle. "I'm not exactly scandalized by the idea of a woman finding another woman attractive, let's say."

Noelle nods. "Right."

"I think you'd look just fine in a police uniform, too. Actually, I think you'd look like a regular asskicker in my costume, with a baton, and a pair of handcuffs..."

"W-well." Noelle puts a fist to her lips and coughs. "Well. In my current job, I ride a desk. So mostly I wear pantsuits."

"Bet you still know how to work a pair of handcuffs, though, huh?" Liz asks.

Noelle stops in place. "Liz..." she breathes. "Are you--"

"Maybe I should be the one using them on you, though," Liz says, voice going a bit deeper.

Noelle takes a quick step forward, ready to kiss Liz on the lips right there. Liz shocks her still and silent again. "So tell me. How long have you been sleeping with my daughter?"

"I... uh... you-- she--"

"Don't lie. I know you're fucking her. I see the hickeys you send her home with. I hear her talk. How long?"

Noelle purses her lips. "Not long. Couple weeks."

"Does Wesley know?"

She nods.

"I understand," Liz coos. "Summer's grown up to be kind of slut. She threw herself at you, didn't she? Must have. You Keki girls don't seem like the kind to make first moves." She starts again down the trail, leaving Noelle far behind. "Well?" She calls after her. "Come if you're coming."

---

Vivian is as simply dressed as Amber has ever seen: a plain white cotton tee, black spats that cling, and tennis shoes. Amber didn't know that Vivian owned clothes like this. She didn't know Vivian could even conceive of outfits this un-spectacular. She was so shocked, in fact, that she wasted her golden opportunity to flee when Vivian uncuffed her to get changed. Maybe that was Vivian's cunning ploy all along.

Now, recuffed, the two march through the verdant Vail woods together. Amber's outfit is much the same as her aunt's -- they're a matched pair. Even their womb tattoos match, and with every step they take, their tees raise just high enough to bare them. Which makes it extra awkward as they tromp through the occasional campsite.

Amber is actually the more polite of the two. "Pardon us. Passing through. Walkin' here."

Vivian, if she speaks at all, is more to the point. "Move," she commands. Or: "Do not look at us."

But Vivian is a wilting flower at core, and after barely an hour of wandering the forest, she needs to take a little sit-me-down to fan herself. Her tee is soaked through with sweat, revealing that she wasn't wearing a bra -- not that she needs one, even in her mid-30s. That growth spurt ain't coming. She finds a flat gray boulder jutting up from the earth in a clearing and perches herself on it, far away from peasants who would dare to look at her in her moment of weakness. Amber stands in front of her impatiently.

"Need me to help cool you off?" Amber asks. "Uncuff me and let me just grab a palm frond, oh mistress."

"I could do without the sarcasm," Vivian says, gulping for air.

"I could do without the cuff burn."

Vivian's eyes are closed, but she squints one partially open to regard her niece. "You could help me cool down, actually. In hot weather, hot beverages can paradoxically create an internal cooling effect."

"Sure. Let me go brew you up some fucking tea, then."

"Did I mention tea?"

Amber blinks in confusion. Then she gets it. "Oh god."

She sits down beside Vivian as Vivian giggles to herself. Picks at some blades of grass.

"Has your father seen your new tattoo?" Vivian asks.

"Caught a peek of it the other day, yeah."

"What was his reaction?"

"His reaction was: 'oh Jesus Christ.' Like that."

Vivian giggles again in her haughty way. "I take it he still hasn't succumbed, then."

"If he succumbed, I wouldn't be here right now. I'd be in his bed on top of his dick."

"His bed may be floating through downtown Palo Alto at the moment."

"Even still."

"Maybe you should show it to him in more detail... in a more intimate way," Vivian says. She runs a hand up Amber's shirt, pulling it back by the hem, and plays her fingers across the still-fresh temporary ink.

"You want me to rape him," Amber says, leaning back a little to allow Vivian better access to her now totally bare tummy.

"I've raped him. I highly recommend it. It's great fun."

Amber chews her lower lip. The way Vivian traces ever-tighter and ever-lower circles around her tummy is driving her to distraction and turning her thoughts towards the lewd. She swallows hard. "Maybe... maybe I should... huh. Trying to get him to rape me isn't working."

"The choice is yours. Just so long as you don't forget our contract." She presses down on Amber's navel. Vivian so loves the soft peachy flesh there and the contrast of the glistening pink swirls of henna. Meanwhile she leans in, and locks lips with her young niece.

"Viv... you're so... you're so sweaty..." Amber breathes into Vivian's mouth, her hands finding nothing but slickness anywhere she touches.

"Yes, I am," Vivian agrees, her tongue mating with Amber's. "I'm hot, and wet, and I'm oh so dirty for you, Amber. My little slut. You made me dirty, didn't you. Touch me... touch me down here..."

She guides Amber's palm down to her own belly, and Amber knows enough to take it from there. They may not be strictly blood relatives, but this always has the thrill of incest to it all the same, that makes both their puffy little pussies throb and drip. They moan delicately into each other and grope at each other's bodies, their curious hands drifting further and further south, closer and closer to the nasty little slut-holes that they each adore so much.

But even as Vivian mauls Amber's mouth and cups a hand over Amber's wettening crotch, Amber spies, over Vivian's slouching shoulders, in Vivian's butt pocket, a key-shaped lump. On the guise of copping a feel of Vivian's backside, a feel she gladly acquiesces to, Amber reaches in and pilfers the key.  

"You're such a darling cunt," Vivian moans, oblivious, lost in the excitement of molesting her niece.

"Uh huh," Amber moans back, pinching her voice to sound extra vulnerable.

"You're my little cunt, aren't you."

"Uh huh, uh huh...."

Vivian develops an aggressive lilt. "Say it. Tell me what you are. Tell me you belong to me."

"I belong to you, mistress. I'm your cunt."

At the moment Vivian's fingers slip past the waistband of Amber's spats and touch her sticky pussy, Amber dangles the handcuff key between their faces.

"I'm your free cunt," Amber says, grinning.

Vivian's eyes shoot down. Her own wrist is still manacled but the other cuff is wide open, attached to nothing, laying atop the boulder. Amber jumps up and makes a run for it.

Rather than try to chase such a sprightly little girl on foot, though, and rather than be perturbed even a little, Vivian just faces forward to watch Amber's slowly receding form. As she watches, she produces a little remote control from her front pocket. She turns it on. Amber instantly trips and falls flat on her face about 50 yards away.

When Vivian, walking unhurriedly, catches up to her, Amber is writhing on the ground. "It hurts!" She cries as she sees Vivian walking up. "Owwww-- fuck! Fuck!! What the fuck did you do to me?"

Vivian fights Amber's swatting hands and thrashing legs to get her fully on her back and straddle her. Smirking, she explains. "The pigment on your stomach contains nanoscopic electroreceptors that can be remotely activated. When so activated, the receptors send small electric shocks through your dermis. In other words: you've been branded with a portable taser. One that can zap you directly in your womb, albeit from the outside... and one to which I hold the trigger."

Amber is frothing at the mouth, quite literally, from the pain. Her muscles alternate between rigid and floppy. "Yyyyyou-- ffffffucking..." she snarls, unable to complete the sentence.

Vivian presses down on Amber's tummy. Amber cries out so loud it echoes through the forest and send birds flying. "Shhh," Vivian coos, putting a forefinger to Amber's lips.

"S-stop-- I'm gonna-- Viv-- Viv, I'm gonna piss myself--"

"It feels good, doesn't it?" Vivian asks.

Amber turns her head side to side, disagreeing, but too in a daze to speak clearly. "Fuck-- oh, fuck..."

"Shall I turn the intensity up?"

"Don't you d--"

Vivian's thumb adjusts the little slider on the remote upwards. Amber's every tendon goes taut, her head throws back, and despite Vivian's weight atop her, her back arches off the ground. When Amber grows accustomed to this new level of agony, and she lies flat again on the dirty ground and opens her eyes, she finds Vivian masturbating atop her, a hand busily clawing at herself inside her sweat-slick spats -- fingering herself while she plays with this sadistic new toy.

"It hurts!" Amber cries. She trembles and jitters like someone in the frigid cold, and struggles to speak through clattering teeth. "It hurts... it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it--" but her pleas fall on deaf ears as, jutting forward to rub her crotch against Amber's face, Vivian turns the intensity up another notch.  

"Fuck!!!" Amber screams. But there's no mistaking the erotic pleasure that's creeping into her cries of agony. "Oh, fuck! Oh fuck! Viv--"

"Shall I stop?" Vivian says.

"N-no! No!" Amber pants. "Do it more! Hurt me harder!"

"Tell me what you are," Vivian sneers, digging at herself, rubbing out her creamy orgasms on top of Amber's beet red, freckly face.

"I'm your cunt!" Amber says, and this time she means it. "I'm your little fucking cunt! Viv -- mistress -- oh, fuck... I'm gonna fucking cum like this-- hurt me, mistress! Hurt me good!"

Vivian shifts herself back and lies atop her, belly-to-belly. She puts her cheek to Amber's cheek. Still masturbating, she whispers: "Your father knows about this measure, and fully approves. When he fucks you for the first time... Amber -- listen to me. When Alabaster fucks you, I'll give him the remote. He can electrocute your womb you while he squirts his semen inside it."

Amber's back arches again. "I'm cumming! I'M CUMMING!"

Vivian slaps her. "You stupid whore. You didn't ask me for permission."

But it's too late to stop. Amber makes a mess inside her shorts. Vivian sits up, turns, and watches. The sight of the dark nylon material, growing darker with the juices leaking from Amber's cuntlet, drives Vivian over the edge. She lunges and buries her face in that delicious, fragrant crotch.

"Mistress, mistress no-ooo-oo..." Amber sobs. "I-- I'm really gonna pee--"

Vivian forces Amber's ruined spats down off her plump white butt to bare her bald pink pussy to the open air. She presses Amber's thighs apart to expose her even further. Still zapping Amber with electricity, she forces Amber to pee on her face. Vivian gasps in perverse pleasure as the golden arc splashes against her skin and drips in rivulets down her features. She purses her lips into an O, latches them to Amber's crotch, and drinks the nectar from its source. As she guzzles down Amber's hot pee, she rubs her own sweaty crotch, still trapped in the oppressive confines of those spats, against Amber's sobbing face. And by the time Amber is all empty, cummed-out, and spent, by the time Vivian turns the remote off, she's too dazed to realize that Vivian has handcuffed her again.

"You belong to me, cunt," Vivian says, leering down at her. "And from now on, I'm keeping you in line."

---

"What do you want to do now?" You ask.

Talia shrugs.

"Fishing? Hiking? Biking?"

Talia stares placidly back at you as you list all the wondrous possibilities.

"Yeah. Me either," you admit.

Talia sits down on the Winnebago's plush sectional. You join her.

"It's so nice inside," she says. "Why would anyone ever go outside now that people have invented inside?"

"That's what I'm trying to say." You let out a long exhalation through your mouth that makes your lips rumble, and slump against the backrest. "Still, though. That leaves the question of what we should do."

Talia is quiet. You're quiet. You think together on the conundrum for a while.

"Wanna watch some porn?" You ask at last.

---

As you watch hentai with your teacher on the 60" QLED screen, you're glad for high-speed internet that's available even in the boonies.

In retrospect, it was inevitable that Magical Witchy would get an H-OVA. That it turned out to be one of the best H-OVAs of all time was a pleasant surprise, though. Such a shame N-Mom won't admit it's canon. The yuri action in it is seriously hot.

Once the movie starts, Talia stands and pulls off her jeans, tossing them aside. Then she slides her panties down her legs with both thumbs while sitting again. She does it so smoothly you can't help staring.

"You don't mind, right?" Talia asks, taking her already hardening cock in hand.

"No... no, of course not," you say.

"Good." She leans back, gets comfy, and starts to masturbate in earnest.

You take her cue. You get entirely naked -- shirt, bra, and all. Talia is unashamed about watching you strip, which makes your heart flutter with excitement and your pussy drip in anticipation. So when you take your seat beside her, you make the show extra lewd, just for her. You spread your legs wide and fuck yourself deep with your middle three fingers, letting your thumb and pinky keep your pussy spread.

"You're such a pretty girl, Wes." Praising words said with such a perverted lilt. You could melt. You blow her a kiss.

On-screen, one magical loli eats another one out. Their squealing, high-pitched moans are just a backing track, though -- it's hard to pay attention to porn, even uncensored, when you've got such a cute girl to jerk off with. Talia's penis is a true thing of beauty, a curved, glistening hunk of almost perfectly smooth flesh that's slender for its length but still wide enough, you know, that it'll make your cunt ache the morning after. Your mouth waters involuntarily as you watch her slowly stroke.

"You're staring," she says.

"Uh huh..."

"I'm staring, too."

You spread your legs a little wider and lean back a little farther. You want her to stare to her heart's content. Your cunt makes an actual schlicking noise as you play with yourself and the heel of your palm slaps against your mons.

So -- it's not impossible to pay attention to porn in these circumstances, it turns out. You both do steal some glances at the screen here and there. At some point between the blonde one peeing on the brunette, and the redhead rimming the blonde, you grew interested.

"These girls are young," Talia says.

"I'm young," you remind her.

She has no response.

"Does that make you hard?" You prompt.

She grabs herself by the base and waggles her cock back and forth to demonstrate how rigid her dick has gotten. The gesture is a little silly... but it's also really hot.

"I can't wait any longer..." you moan. "I want to fuck you."

"Come fuck me, then."

You climb on top of her in a reverse cowgirl and waste no time getting her dick fully inside you. God, this is the best. As much fun as getting fucked is, you prefer to be the one on top, bouncing. You brace yourself with one palm on each of Talia's knees and stroke her off with your insides. She holds your waist and lets you do your thing.

Will and Auburn come into the RV, arguing about something or other.

"--my fault?" Will is saying. "No, my friend. No. Nuh uh. They voted Amb in on their own voltition."

"Voltition? I-- tch-- goddamn it. You *helped* her cheat. I know you did. Just admit--"

"Shit!" Will says, first to notice you sitting on Talia's cock.

As Auburn notices too and trails off, Talia reflexively tries to pull out, presumably so she can get dressed and hide her shame. You reach back and stop her. "Don't worry," you say.

Will exhales, caught by a sort of lighthearted surprise. "Wow. Ms. B... I didn't know you were a guy."

"Will!" Auburn gasps.

"What?"

"What the fuck!"

"WHAT? ... Oh. That." He glances Talia's way again. "Sorry. What I meant to say is I didn't know you were a girl with man parts."

"Why am I your friend..." Auburn grumbles.

Will throws his arms wide. "She's fucking her own student! And I'm the villain here? What kind of priorities do you have, Brant? And anyway... look, I think it's cool." He nods at Talia. "I think it's cool, Ms. B. And... uh... nice cock."

Talia stares back at him, her hands still on your waist. Will gives her an encouraging thumbs up. She returns it.

"So I take it you're all right with this?" Talia asks them. "Wesley and I. Doing... this."

You squeeze her cock with your pussy, and her face makes an adorable expression of poorly-contained pleasure.

"Oh yeah, yeah," Will insists. "Totally ok with it."

"Why shouldn't we be?" Auburn says. "Wes is fucking everyone else with a pulse. Why not you, too?" He comes up close and looks you dead in the eyes. "For a lesbian, she's a real dick addict."

"Come closer and I'll bite it off," you warn him.

"No you won't," he says. He grabs you by the chin, pinching your cheeks together. "You like getting fucked by it too much to go and do something like that." He takes a look back at the TV screen where the depraved hentai is only getting more and more twisted by the second. Now tentacles are involved.

"Whoa... freaky," Will says, stepping forward to peer at the screen too.

"Sit and watch the show if you like," Talia says.

"Which one?" Will chuckles.

"Whichever you prefer."

As Will strips naked, Auburn keeps staring you in the eye. And as you start to bounce again on Talia, you stare him back. Defiance and temptation make a strange mix.

"You know what I've always wanted to do to you, Wes?" He asks.

"What," you say flatly.

You hear a little swish from inside his mouth as he puckers his lips, and before you realize what he's doing -- he spits on your face. The hot saliva collides with your forehead and eyelids, frothy, bubbly. You wince and flinch, and feel a shiver of pleasurable humiliation as it runs hotly downwards.

"Now, now," Talia says. "That's not very nice."

"You're right. I'll clean her off."

Auburn pulls his pants down and takes out his cock. He rubs the underside of it against your face, smearing his spit all over. Again, you wince -- but it makes your overheated pussy shudder, and you nostrils flare as you fill them with his manly scent.

"Excuse me, Auburn, but I'm using Wes right now," Talia says.

"And now I'm using her, too."

Talia glares at him. "Sit down."

"Unf-- Ms. B..."

You and Auburn notice it at the same time. Sitting beside Talia, Will is getting a handjob from her. Auburn considers the sight for a moment. Then he sits on Talia's other side.

"See?" Talia says. "We can all get along."

A cock in either hand, Talia enjoys the way you wag your hips for her. For long minutes you fuck like that while Talia jerks the guys off, and you all watch the disgusting porn on the screen. You just love the way Talia's cockhead kisses your cervix and occasionally pokes inside it when you're not careful enough with your mindless humping. It hurts, really fucking hurts a lot, and throbs, and aches, but it feels so good, too. Talia lightly, but languidly, humps you back. Meanwhile she has Will and Auburn alike both leaking like a faucet in her hands. The whole camper smells like dick. You're dizzy with it.

Talia puts her chin on your shoulder. "I want to cum with you rimming me. Can you do that, Wes?"

You dutifully, but reluctantly, dismount her turgid dick and get down on your knees between her legs. All three of them watch as you pull Talia's ass apart and start to eat her out. Even she can't suppress a moan, and her bobbing cock oozes precum all over your forehead while you lick her cherry-tart asshole.

Talia grins at Auburn.  "Where are you looking? Wes or me?"

Hard to tell exactly where Auburn's eyes are peeled. He licks his lips and doesn't answer. "You -- passed up a chance to nut inside her," he says. His voice trembles with the pleasure Talia's handjob gives him.

"I like to squirt my cock off hands-free. It's fun that way, too."

You wriggle your tongue around inside her anus and make her jaw droop and her tongue loll out.

"Like... that..." she moans, her cock rumbling and twitching like mad. You redouble your efforts and bury your tongue even deeper inside her. She bites her lip, swings her bottom half to mash her ass on you, and spews a hot load of cum that splatters all over the top of your head.

"Jesus, Ms. B... oh, fuck..." Will pants. The way his voice gets deeper when he's turned-on is so cute. "That looks like it felt so good..."

"Unnnnhhh," Talia groans, unable right now to formulate a coherent response with her meaty cock still gurgling its post-cum all over your hair, and your tongue still swabbing around inside her butt. Somehow she has presence enough of mind to keep her dual tugjobs going, though.

"Wes," Will says. "I wanna cum like that too. Come do me."

So you're the designated rim-slut, today. Fine. You crawl on all fours down the line to Will, who helpfully pulls his ankles up onto the couch and presents his toned butt to you. A boy as athletic as he is has a backside to match, and you enjoy the taut feel of it as you rest your hands on his cheeks. You lick Will's sweaty asshole and the smelly underside of his nuts while his massive cock hangs heavy against your cum-smeared scalp.

Auburn, meanwhile, seems interested in frotting with Talia. Or maybe he just wants to compare size as he lines himself up with her.

"Hmm," Talia says, gazing down, a tiny smirk on her lips. "Mine's bigger." Then she sputters as Auburn's hand shoots out and latches itself around her slim throat. Her grin only widens, though, even as her face reddens. "Mr. Brant... if you're going to choke me... you should fuck me, too."

As Will moans "Wes, Wes," over and over and you root your tongue around inside him, Auburn shoves his cock up Talia's ass. That fuckhole of hers is all lubed up from the way you licked it so thoroughly, and Auburn has no trouble getting balls deep.

"Kids these days," Talia says. "Have any of you ever even heard of condoms?"

"Who cares about that?" Auburn says, panting as he fucks. "Not like you can get pregnant."

"Guess not," Talia says, and loops her ankles around his tailbone. "Feel free to cum whenever you want." Her cock, so recently beginning to wilt, gets hard again under Auburn's insistent thrusts.

Will's eyes go wide and he blows a creamy load to commingle with Talia's in your matted hair. He's got some assistance with his orgasm besides only the rimjob, though: Talia's hand milks his fuck-load out all over you while you continue to lick him. His crooning "oooh, oooh, oooh," is stupid and sexy at the same time.

Auburn snaps his fingers. "Now me," he commands, like you're just a pet dog.

You would have done him next anyway. You get behind him while he fucks Talia, and rim him out, too. You make a game of seeing if you can reach his prostate. And while you're sure you aren't successful, your enthusiasm drives his erratic thrusts to new and more forceful heights.

"Keep choking me," Talia rasps. "See... see if you can knock me out before you cum..."

"Jesus," Auburn breathes, glancing down between their sweaty bodies. "You're really gonna cum from this, huh?"

"Hands-free..." Talia says, proud, using the last of her breath.

Auburn reaches behind himself and mashes your face to his ass while he gets himself fully seated in Talia. You can't see, of course, but you think Talia and Auburn's cocks both pop at the same moment. Their moans of delight certainly make it seem that way. You do your part to help Auburn's rolling orgasm by flopping your slimy tongue around as much as possible.

When Auburn pulls out and a fucking river of spunk leaks from Talia's gaping asshole, Will lets out a wolf-whistle. "Wicked," he says.

Auburn squats down next to you and puts a bracing hand against the nape of your neck. "Wes," he says, a little out-of-breath, but firm and domineering all the same.

"Yes?" You respond, ready to do anything he wants.

"Clean her up."

"Yes," you say. He guides your lips back to the sultry hole you first rimmed out, now tainted with his cock milk. Talia lets out a low, satisfied groan.

"Auburn, come kiss me," she bids. He sits back up on the couch with her and the two suck on each other's tongues. She jerks them both back to full-mast -- and you realize that things are only really getting started.

---

"Keep your end up," Amelia says.

"I am!" Lily shouts.

"Keep it steady!"

"I AM!"

She's not, but Amelia won't argue the point. The two hold either side of a neon orange tandem kayak, stern and prow, atop their shoulders, and struggle to haul it to the bank of a creek where they're going to do a little boating. Nothing fancy, no whitewater rapids here, just a refreshing tour of Vail's scenic sights. Safe and easy. Amelia found the kayak in mint condition in the Winnebago's stowage and didn't want it to go to waste. Olivia was worried of drowning and declined the outing, but Lily surprisingly volunteered to be Amelia's second. Lily is proving a distressing lack of strength, though, struggling to hold her end of the lightweight craft. Amelia silently worries about how she'll manage rowing.

Finally at the gravelly shore, they ease the kayak down to the ground. Amelia opens up the two compartments where they'll be sitting and produces a coupe of PFDs. She dons hers, but Lily begs off when Amelia holds one out for her. "I'm not wearing that."

"I know I said Liv was being unreasonable, but that doesn't mean you should neglect your safety." Amelia pointedly holds out the vest a second time. "It doesn't hurt to wear it."

"I know how to swim. I'm not a sped."

As Lily turns and pulls the oars off the side of the kayak, Amelia makes with the sneak attack. She slips the PFD over Lily's head before she can react.

"Hey--!!"

"Don't fight."

Lily fights. She twists and turns, thrashes and kicks, but Amelia, looming over Lily's shoulder, gets the thing secured.

Stepping back, Amelia admires her handiwork. "There. Now you're all safe."

"You do know I can just take this off," Lily says. She reaches for the three-prong plastic buckle around her tummy.

Amelia's glare is so icy it could give a person frostbite. "You won't," she says.

Lily slowly lets go of the buckle without undoing it. "I -- won't," she agrees.

---

"Row," Amelia says.

"I am!" Lily shouts.

This one isn't her fault. Lily is a little too small for the size of the kayak and therefore, since she sits so deeply in it, her elbows knock against the top every time she swings her arms one way or the other to row. Faultess or not, that doesn't change the fact that her handicap leaves the kayak in some sense rudderless -- Amelia can't effectively guide it without help, so the craft's turn radius is massive. This poses a problem because the creek they navigate has some unforgiving bends. The bottom of the kayak scrapes against the banks and jutting rocks as the mismatched pair frantically try to keep it centered in the narrow channels.

"Turn it! Like this!" Amelia shouts over the misty spray their erratic transit creates.

"I'm trying, bitch! Fuck!"

"Lily-- left-- we're going to hit those r--"

"Fuckin help me! Steer us left--"

"I can't steer the goddamn boat by myself--"

"Aaaaagghh-- fucking-- shit!--"

"Here it comes!!--"

They hit a boulder in the middle of the stream. The kayak partially grounds itself, listing to the side. The combined weight of Amelia and Lily's dangling torsos make it capsize. Upside-down in the creek, they drop from the kayak as their eyes fill with the murky, frigid, rushing water. Their PFDs do what their cold-shocked and flailing bodies can't: both girls bob to the surface like two apples dropped in a tub. The kayak pops up a few yards downstream, irretrievable, as it floats off to embark upon solo adventures. A kayak forging its own path in life.

Lily shrieks and splashes around. Amelia is a quicker thinker, and takes Lily's hand before doggy paddling towards the nearest bank. Once the two find purchase on the gently sloped, loamy shore, they crawl on all fours until they fully exit the water, hacking, coughing, dripping, and miserable.

Amelia struggles to turn and sit on her butt, propped by one hand. She pulls Lily a little closer and helps her sit up on her butt too.

"You're welcome," Amelia says.

Lily tries to squeegee the water from her face with one hand. "This fuckin' sucks. I hate camping."

"If anyone asks, we tell them that a bear ate our kayak. Got it?"

Lily glances around. "Fuck. Did we lose the kayak?"

"Unless you've got a spare in your pocket."

"How far from camp are we?" There's new and deeper panic in her voice.

Amelia twists in place and looks behind her. Through the trees and thickets, she glimpses the sleek side trim of the Winnebago. "About 150 yards. Maybe less."

Lily recoils as her fear transmutes into sheer confusion -- and then from confusion to a cathartic giggle fit. She leans forward, gently headbutting Amelia's bosom, and Amelia giggles too. All the time they spent rowing and they ended up basically right back where they started. But it's true: all's well that ends--

"AAAAAHHHH! FUCK! LEECH!"

Lily jumps upright and reaches for her forearm, but Amelia stops her.

"LET GO OF ME! THERE'S A FUCKIN LEECH ON ME! FUCK!"

Amelia ignores Lily's shouted obscenities. She reaches into her butt pocket and produces a Swiss army knife. She flicks it open. Then, with thumb and forefinger, she spreads the area around the leech bite and digs the blade between Lily's skin and the sucker. Once the leech detaches, Amelia uses the blade to flick it back from whence it came, into the creek.

"Don't tear a leech off if you see one stuck to you. Its head will stay attached and you could get an infection."

"Humans weren't supposed to be going around where there's leeches. Maybe if we ain't fuck around where there's leeches we wouldn't need leech removal methods." Lily puts a hand to her collar and still finds herself breathing ragged. "Thanks, though. You saved me a couple-three times there."

Amelia grabs Lily by the hand and tugs her closer.

"Hup-- what the--"

"Let me see if you've got any more on you," Amelia rises a bit in place as she surveys Lily's skin from hand to forearm to shoulder, then repeats it with Lily's other arm.

"Do I got any more?" Lily asks.

Amelia turns her around and pulls her wet hair aside to examine the nape of her neck. She looks at Lily's calves and ankles next. "I don't see any more."

"'I don't see any more' is the worst answer!" Lily cries. "'No' is a better answer! 'No' is confident! 'I don't see any more' means 'there could absolutely be more!'"

"Fine. Then no."

"You can't take that shit back! I heard you the first time!"

Amelia pauses to inspect herself for leeches, too. She turns her arms this way and that, checks her legs, feels gingerly along the back of her neck. "Huh. Guess it was just... a fluke."

"Fluke my ass. Why couldn't you get the fluke then huh."

"It was a pun..."

"I got it. I don't want your fuckin worm jokes, lady. Jesus." She fights lamely against her own PFD before finally extricating herself from it and letting it fall in the wet grass. "I came on this little excursion of yours to seduce you. Instead I get dumped in the ass-end of Leech Creek and end up having to listen to your stand-up leech comedy. Shoot me in the brains."

---

"Look out!"

Noelle pushes Liz to the ground.

"What the heck--" Liz begins.

"Bear!" Noelle cries. "Bear! 2 o'clock!"

Noelle drops her bag and digs through it with clarity of purpose. She finds what she wants, much quicker than in the simulations, and whips out her sleek black can of industrial-strength bear repellent. She interposes herself between Liz and the bear standing off to the side of the trail. She holds the can out threateningly.

The bear watches the entire proceeding with guarded interest. When there's no more commotion, just Noelle standing stock-still aiming the nozzle and waiting for what comes next -- a beat passes, before the bear, huffing through its snout, turns, and saunters off in the opposite direction.

"Yeah! You better run!" Noelle shouts after it. It pays her no attention. When it's out of sight, Noelle turns and offers a hand to Liz to help her up. "Close one."

"I... can't believe you actually found a use for that thing," Liz marvels. She was as convinced of the situation's danger as Noelle herself was.

"Right?" Noelle says with childlike excitement. "It's like I said. You can't be too prepared. And that was a black bear, too. I'm pretty sure those are the most dangerous ones."

"Isn't it grizzlies that are the most dangerous?" Liz asks.

"That's the same thing as a black bear."

"Are you sure?"

"Well -- yeah. Yeah. They're the same. Highly dangerous." Noelle looks all around, surveying for any other threats, and only then does she puts away the bear spray. She gets her pack secured around her waist again. "Think we should be going back. It's getting late anyway."

Liz agrees. They head the way they came, walking closer to one another than before, side-by-side. The hike to this point has passed in awkward silence as Noelle hung back on the trail. She was and still is mortified at Liz knowing the secret between her and Summer. But now, having saved Liz from the clutches of death itself, she feels confident enough to come out with the little speech she planned:

"Liz... I'm sorry I crossed the line with Summer. I feel awful about it. But she and Wesley really love each other a lot. I hope you won't stand in the way of that just because I did something stupid. Blame me -- not Summer, not Wes."

They stop and face one another.

Liz smiles. "Oh Noelle, honey. That's so silly. I wouldn't dream of interfering with those two. What... like I'm gonna stop someone who throws herself at armed terrorists for my little girl? I'd have to be crazy! It's not every day your daughter can find someone who would literally die for her."

Noelle breathes a sigh of relief.

"Anyway, if I make Summer stop seeing her, I'll never get to sit on her face."

Noelle coughs.

"Hmm?" Liz titters. "Don't tell me you have a problem with that?"

"It's just--"

"It's just what?" Liz takes a step closer. "It's just that you get to fuck my little girl and I don't get to fuck yours? Is that what you're saying?"

"No -- uh. I mean -- yes? It's just--"

"It's just, it's just -- it's just what, Noelle? Use your words." She undoes the buckle of Noelle's backpack and tugs it off of her. Noelle stands there mutely. "Your little girl fucked Summer *and* Winter right in front of me last night. Then she had the gall to leave me unattended."

"I'm sorry," Noelle says, staring at the ground.

Liz strokes her face. "If you don't want me to fuck her, tell me right now. This is your one and only chance."

"If she wants it..."

"Oh, she wants it." Liz gets her lips right up to Noelle's eardrum. "Do you want it too, dyke?"

Noelle nods. Liz steps back and glances at each end of the trail, first one way, then the other.

"Right-- right here?" Noelle says.

"We haven't crossed anyone in either direction for ages. It'll be fine."

Noelle gulps. "You're..."

"I'm what?"

Noelle swallows her anxiety and trepidation. "You're a pervert. I like you."

The two women get stark naked -- not even their shoes and socks remain. It feels weird standing on the dry dirt path with bare feet, but it also underlines the thrill of being so totally vulnerable in so public a place. They embrace, and kiss -- Liz seems to take a special joy in pressing her prodigious DD cups against Noelle's much less impressive C cups. Noelle takes pleasure in it, too. Their nipples scrape and rub against one another's as their tongues explore one another's mouths.

"How do you do my girl?" Liz demands.

"Hmm--" Noelle murmurs. She sinks down to a squatting pose, staring up into Liz's eyes. "Lean against that tree... I'll show you."

Liz does as asked, flinching a bit from the bark scraping against her tender skin. Noelle beckons for Liz to prop a foot on her shoulder, and then holds Liz by the meaty cushion of her ass to keep her steady. Tilting back her head and smiling evilly, Noelle wags her drooly tongue in the air to demonstrate its length and bright pink color, its wetness and flexibility.

"Like this," she tells Liz. "I do her like this. I kiss her on her cheerleader pussy until she cums so hard she wets on me. Then I do it some more." She bows her head and licks the inside of Liz's leg from her knee all the way up to her crotch in a single slow motion that makes Liz shiver. Her smile grows eviller. "Wanna try?"

"Fucking slut," Liz spits. "No wonder your daughter turned out the way she did."

"Hmm-hmm~" Noelle laughs. She purses her lips and kisses Liz on the twat. One kiss becomes two becomes a series of sloppy wet suckling smooches that have Liz's eyes quickly rolling. Noelle is a regular connoisseur of pussy, but she has a special place in her heart for one as finely matured as Liz's. It's muskier, wetter, and softer than the springy, spongy, tight little honeyhole of a teenage girl. This is a pussy accustomed to sex, a pussy that's had time to marinate in its own juices and grow all the more tender for it. Noelle just can't resist, and actually gives a couple little love bites to Liz's labia, exhaling hard at the way the fatty folds just utterly give under the pressure she applies. Liz's legs wobble, and Noelle has to keep her standing by holding her to her lips.

"Geez. Are you a quickshot?" Noelle asks.

"You're way too good at this..." Liz breathes. She arches her back uncaring of how the tree bark digs cruelly into her shoulderblades. She holds the top of Noelle's head. With the other hand she tweaks her hard pink nipples.

"I licked your daughter's asshole just last night. Now I'm licking your cunt. How do you like that?"

"Fuuuuck--" Liz hisses, grinding herself on Noelle's face. Noelle adds to the torment by putting a couple fingers in Liz's anus. Liz bucks and wags her hips like a bronco, but she never tells Noelle to stop. Which is all the consent Noelle ever needs.

A few seconds later, Noelle is pleased to find that Liz cums just like Summer does: in a waterfall of cream that doesn't squirt but just wetly streams down her pussy and her thighs, like honey from a comb, straight into Noelle's open and waiting mouth.

"Hey..." Noelle says, gulping down Liz's cum.

"Oh god... oh GOD that's good..."

"Hey -- when you fuck Wes... can I help?"

Liz pulls her foot off Noelle's shoulder and pushes Noelle supine to the ground. She straddles Noelle's face and bounces on her the way she would bounce on a dildo. "Yes! Fuck yes!" She screams savagely. Noelle can't breather, can't see, and doesn't care. All she can smell and taste and feel is the hot snug holes of Liz Denali grinding out a series of wet, oozing orgasms on her. Liz creams Noelle until Noelle thinks she's going to drown. Then she creams Noelle even more. Noelle fingers her butt to help her cum.

An hour later, they're still at it, 69ing together under a setting sun right in the middle of the trail. A young couple walks by hand-in-hand, a man and woman. Liz doesn't notice, her soft body lying atop Noelle's and her hungry mouth buried in Noelle's gash. But Noelle sees them. She sees how they stop in mute shock about 20 paces back.

"What's the matter?" Noelle asks. She lets her head lie flat while she pries open Liz's pink cunt and asshole to grant the hikers an almost gynecological view. "Never seen lesbians before?"

---

"I cannot fucking believe this..." Kay mutters, kicking the cooler shut.

"Sucks to suck!" Summer laughs.

"So fricking stupid..." Winter says. "You cheated, didn't you. Didn't you."

"How the hell could I have *cheated* at *fishing*?" Summer demands. "Grow up."

Despite decades of combined experience between Kay and Winter, neither of them caught a single thing. Summer caught five lake trout and a catfish.

"Ready to do some gutting?" Summer says. "Better get crackin', you guys. There's a lot of fish to do." Her eyes pop open as she remembers the other aspect of the game. "Oh~! And what's my first-place prize?"

"I'm sure Noelle will think of something nice for you," Kay grouses.

"Hee hee. I bet she will."

"That's it!" Kay tosses her bucket hat at Summer. "Stop fucking my wife, you tramp!"

Summer cackles. "Touchy, touchy. Aren't you guys poly?"

"You're having sex with Noelle too?" Winter says.

"Look," Summer tells Kay. "Just think of it as one pants-wearer helping another pants-wearer keep her non-pants-wearer in line."

Kay gets up close to Summer and whispers so only she can hear. "Have you ever gotten pinned down and fucked up the ass with a strap-on?"

"Uh..."

Kay's tone is harsher than Summer has ever heard. "I'm rough when I get mad. Have a tendency to forget the lube, too. It's not pretty. Do you want me to rape your ass into the ground, Summer?"

Summer blinks rapidly. Then a smirk breaks across her lips. She puts her hands on her hips. "Is that my first-place prize?"

Kay picks up the tackle box and marches off in the direction of camp. As Winter gathers the fishing rods back up, she tells Summer: "better be careful. You're on the alpha-bitch's shit list."

Summer gives her an annoyed smile. "Watch your mouth."

"Heil freakin' Hitler..."

---

Kay needed a moment to cool down in her tent. Since Noelle isn't back from the hike and Wes is slacking off in the RV, she has the space to herself. For a blessedly short period of time, at least -- and then Winter pokes her head inside.

Kay peers at her from over the rim of a beer bottle. "Oh. It's you."

"Do you want me to go?" Winter asks.

Kay waves her in.

"Sorry about my sister," Winter says, zipping the tent flap behind her. "She's such a bitch."

Kay shrugs. "It's fine. Sometimes she just needs to be reminded who's on top."

Winter nods. "You're really cool. I wish I could mess with Summer like that."

Kay laughs into her bottle. "You're a nice girl, Winter. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

Winter looks around the tent and notices more than a couple empty beer bottles. She frowns. "Are you sad?"

"No," Kay says, surprised.

"Dad drinks like this when he's sad."

Kay clears her throat. "We're camping, you know? Can't have the full camp experience without a few brewskis. Uh, for the people who are of age, of course. I'm not sad."

"You and Noelle have sex with a lot of people, right?" Winter asks.

Kay exhales like she's been punched.

"Do you guys ever date other people, though? Or have you in the past? Other than just having sex with them too."

"I... yeah, I guess. We see other people. But we always come home to each other at the end of the day."

"Right."

Kay tilts her head and leans in. "There something on your mind?"

Winter struggles to meet Kay's eyes. "Summer's dating Wes... they seem really happy together."

"I'm sure they are."

"Is it evil if I hope they break up?"

Kay didn't intend to play psychotherapist today, but for a girl as obviously in need of some compassion, she's happy to. She thinks a moment. "I suppose that would depend on why you want them break up. What's your reason?"

"Because... because Summer's a braindead moron who doesn't even care about Wes, and... Wes is really cute, even if she's totally gross, and... there's no way she'll ever even *look* at me that way if she's with Summer, and..." she finally looks Kay in the eye. "I have sex with Wes, too. But it's not enough. I want her to *hold* me the way she holds my sister. I want her to look at me the same way she looks at her. I want her to notice me..."

Kay rubs Winter's arm. "Have you told her how you feel?"

"No! What good would that do? Wes is an idiot and a creep and-- she wouldn't get it, okay?"

"How about I tell her for you?"

"No!" Winter shrieks. "Don't you dare! I'll kill you!"

Kay holds her arms wide. "Come here." She draws Winter into a comforting hug, rests her chin on Winter's shoulder. "You gotta tell her somehow. That's all I'm saying. She'll never figure it out otherwise. It's like you said. She's stupid."

"But I don't want her and Summer to break up. I mean. I do. But I don't."

"I understand."

They hug in silent understanding for a while.

Winter's cheek is pressed up against Kay's bosom. "You smell good."

"I smell like shit. I've been sweating my ass off."

"It's nice."

Kay breaks the hug. "Wes takes after her mothers. She's got a big enough heart for more than one girl. Seems like Summer is pretty similar. What I'm saying is, I think there's room for Wes to look at you the same way, too." She winks at Winter. "Maybe she already does, and you just haven't noticed it yet."

Winter nods. "Maybe."

Kay nods at something over Winter's shoulder. So Summer makes her presence known, walking fully into the tent and kneeling next to her sister.

"Oh schhh-- frick," Winter huffs with the unpleasant surprise.

"You really feel that way?"

"How long have you been here? Freaking snoop!"

"Winter..." Summer brushes the hair from her face and sighs. "I knew you were kinda obsessed with her, but... I didn't --"

Winter slaps her hand away. "What are you even doing here? Creep! Trying to spy on me?"

"I wasn't here to spy on you. Deflate your head a little, huh?"

"Then what?"

"I'm here to get buttfucked by Kaykay."

Kay snorts. "Someone's an eager beaver. That's your sister you're talking to, you know." She glances at Winter. "Well, now you have an answer. Tell Wes how you feel or Summer's gonna blab. And you know she's definitely gonna blab."

"Whatever. Freaking losers." She stands. She stomps and makes a face at Summer. "Have fun taking it up the ass, weirdo. I hope you can't walk straight for a week."

"Me too."

Winter shudders in disgust, or at least pretends to. She hasn't even stepped out of the tent before Summer is wrapping herself around Kay and pulling her into a lascivious tongue kiss. Kay's just as much of an eager beaver, and returns it.

Maybe it's the noise of smacking lips or maybe it's just the persistent mental image of Summer taking it up the ass -- either way, Winter stops, turns back around, and says: "can... can I watch?"

Summer's arms are still looped around Kay's neck. She glares at Winter. "Really? And you call me a creep."

"I just... want to know what kind of gross stuff Wes likes the best."

"Honey," Kay begins, "the key to Wesley's heart isn't through sex--"

"Yes it is," Summer cuts in. Kay frowns at her. Summer pulls back just a little, arms still around Kay. "What? It totally is! Sex is all Wes can think about!"

"Do you really want your own sister watching this?" Kay says.

"Depends. You okay with my weird little sister watching us go at it?"

Kay shifts so that she's nose-to-nose with Summer. Their brows are touching. "All right. But we're gonna do this my way. I want this to be educational for Winter."

"You been drinking, Kaykay?"

"Only reason I'm agreeing to this," she says with a hiccup.

---

A few moments later, all three girls are naked. It feels so nice and refreshing to be out of those stuffy clothes that they went fishing in. Summer rubs the underside of her tits to mop out the sweat trapped there. Winter massages her own sore soles. Kay fans herself. And when they're all as comfortable again as they're going to get:

"All right," Kay tells Summer. "On your back."

"Yes ma'am." She lies on a row of pillows laid out for the purpose.

"Hold your knees apart."

"Yes ma'am." Following the orders of such a mean bitch is exciting as hell. She hikes her legs up. Gets her wrists under her knees and spreads them.

"Get a little closer," Kay tells Winter. "Don't be shy. You wanted to watch."

Winter scoots forward on her knees. She stares intently at her older sister's genitals. It's the first time she's had such an up-close and personal, clear and unobstructed view. "Whoa," is all she can muster.

Summer's pussy lips drift apart from the way she holds her legs akimbo. It's reminiscent of clingfilm being peeled from a smooth surface. Her asshole is completely visible too, dark and puckered, winking. Her skin is evenly hued -- bronze all over. Her cherry-red nails dig into her thighs where she holds herself. Showing off like this, even to her own sister, gets her all wet -- wetter than she already was from a daylong sweat and her pre-sex anticipation. Her pussy starts creaming up.

"I'm sure you've seen pussies before," Kay says. "Maybe you've already looked at yourself in a hand mirror, or maybe you've seen a lot of porn. And if you've been having sex with Wes, you definitely saw hers. But take a second here to really learn the shape of a girl's cunt, Winter... see?" Kay indicates the different anatomical landmarks with a finger. "This is where a girl's clit hides...  and these lips, even for a girl with an innie like Summer here, are bright pink on the inside, see?" She drags one of Summer's labia to the side to demonstrate its interior. "The entire thing is squishy -- so, so squishy... see that? Your fingers sink down in a mound like this. Try it."

"Kay--" Summer yelps.

"Wow..." Winter presses a forefinger testingly down on Summer's mound. The touch isn't very close to Summer's cunt-hole but Summer gasps all the same, so Winter draws her hand back. Yet her face stays so close that Summer can feel her hot breath on her holes.

Kay continues, petting Summer's cunt to keep the girl docile. "A girl's vagina is lower than you might think... here's Summer's, for instance." Winter nods along as Kay shows her. "And even further back..." she puts her fingertip to Summer's sweaty asshole. "A girl's butt." She twists a finger teasingly around the circumference. "Here's some life advice, Winter. Some girls are really into anal. The others haven't found out yet that they're into it too." She slips the finger partly in. Summer's whole body flinches and she lets out a little "ah" of pain.

Winter sits on her butt with her heels on the ground and glances down at herself, down in between her own legs. She seems to be comparing. Considering herself. She runs a hand back and forth over her brown pussy. She even takes a hesitating feel at her own asshole.

"What do you think Wes likes best about having sex with you?" Kay asks Summer.

"Hmm... she likes the way I cum."

"You would say that." Kay gives Winter a sly look. "Wes has an even simpler mind than that. She just likes to play with a girl's holes." She cups Summer's pussy with a palm. "Wes likes getting eaten, too. I should know... I've heard those two going at it more than enough..."

"Do you like eating pussy?" Winter asks.

"Oh, it's the best," Kay says. She brings her face down and gives Summer's juicy twat a theatrical kiss. She makes sure to mold her lips to the shape of Summer's fat cunt, to smack the skin there and make sucking, suckling noises. She even moves her jaw as if she's chewing. It's like biting into a peach. And just like biting into a peach, she sucks out all the nectar. That alone makes Kay moan in pleasure and her eyes roll back. But this was only a prelude. She pulls away, chin shiny, and says: "Wes is way grosser than that, though, isn't she? So she likes eating something else."

"Wh... what's that?" Winter stammers.

"This hole right here." Kay purses her lips, and this time she dines on Summer's tight ass.

"Kay... oh, Kay..." Summer pants, turning her head side to side.

As before, Kay makes the noises extra loud and extra lewd for Winter's benefit. She eats Summer's ass with an almost frenzied gusto, her pale hands pressing down on either of Summer's legs to help keep her spread as wide as possible. Summer's cunt cream runs down Kay's face and smears her glasses. And Kay's drool runs down the crack of Summer's ass as it drips onto the pillows below.

"Can I touch myself?" Winter asks.

"Of course," Kay replies.

Winter starts to masturbate while she watches her older sister getting rimmed. "Does Wes do this for you, too, Summer?"

Summer nods. "Uh huh. She *loves* eating my butt."

"Wow... oh, wow..."

Kay pulls back and gives Summer's ass a love tap. "Now you try."

Summer's eyes go wide. "Kay -- wait, no--"

But Winter shows no such hesitation. She dives right in, and gets her tongue right up inside her sister's ass.

"Uhhh-hhhh-hhh," Summer groans, shivering. It's so good and so nasty, both at once.

Winter looks up at her from between her spongy ass cheeks. "You said you wanted to give my mouth a try sometime. Now's the time."

Kay pets Winter. "You should eat both holes, though... hmm. Here." With that, she crawls behind Winter and spreads Winter's ass wide apart. "How about you try to mimic me, all right? Move your tongue the way I move mine."

Winter grunts as Kay buries her face in her backside. This is such a weird, slimy, alien sensation. And embarrassing. She doesn't feel clean after being out in the sun all day, but Kay obviously doesn't care. Which, on second thought,  makes sense... after all, Summer's cunt and ass are equally dirty, equally stinking of sweat and grime, but that stink is intoxicating, heavenly... there's something about an unwashed pussy that's just divine, and she can't get enough. So when Winter looks over her shoulder at the way Kay is pigging out with glasses pushed up and her nose up her ass, it makes Winter feel... happy. Proud. Sexy.

"Hey! Don't watch me," Kay says, giving Winter a playful swat. "Feel me. Feel my tongue and try to do the same thing to Summer."

Winter gets back to work. This time she intently focuses on mirroring every one of Kay's motions. When Kay puts a tongue up her ass, she puts her tongue up Summer's ass. When Kay licks out her twat, she licks out Summer's twat. When Kay sucks her clit, she sucks Summer's clit. It really is an educational experience. She's learning the perfect way to coax orgasms out of dyke twat by having orgasms coaxed out of hers.

Summer runs a hand through her hair. Any reservations she had about incest are well and truly dead. "God, Winter, that's so good. You eat my ass so good." She bucks her hips. "You better get used to this, cause I'm gonna have you in my bed every night... my ass is gonna be your pillow from now on... you hear me, bitch?"

Winter's only answer is to tongue-fuck her deeper up her clamping pussy.

As Summer crosses the brink, Kay crawls forward to watch it happen. Gently, but firmly, she puts a hand on the nape of Winter's neck to keep her held in place. She grins up at Summer.

"I'm gonna come in her mouth, babe," Summer says. Her voice is light and airy, bimboish. "Wanna see?"

Kay nods.

"Ooooooh fuck," Summer sighs in orgasm. Kay helps it along by rubbing the clit for her. With Kay frigging her love-button and Winter's hungry mouth sucking her slut-hole, Summer has a spectacular cum.

"Make sure to drink it all," Kay instructs. "Wes likes a girl who swallows..." So Winter drinks, neck undulating as she swallows all the cum that Summer pisses down her throat.

When Summer's orgasm subsides and Winter pulls off with a loud "pwah," both sisters are gasping for air.

"Damn, babe," Summer heaves. She smiles at Kay. "You really put my sister to work. Thanks."

"Just keeping the non-pants-wearers in line," Kay says. She lies back and adopts the same pose Summer had: legs hiked, spread-eagled. "Now you two do me."

The Denali sisters attack Kay's fuckholes with glee. Summer licks Kay's cunt and Winter licks her ass. Kay lies there with a dopey smile and enjoys not one but two young mouths sucking her off. If only Wes were here to sit on her face, it would be perfect.

That daydream gets cut short, though, as Summer whispers to her sister: "Hey... you wanna know something else Wes likes to do?"

Kay doesn't know what's going on as Summer and Winter grab either of her arms. They haul them up, above Kay's head, while meanwhile wrapping their legs around each one of Kay's legs to keep her pinned. "What the hell are you two doing?" she demands.

"Wes's got a thing for armpits..." Summer explains. "She never told you?"

"WHAT?" Kay shouts.

Summer giggles. "Wow, Kaykay... these things are pretty rank. Is this where Wes gets her habit of forgetting deodorant?"

"Oh my g-- I don't like putting carcinogens under my arms!" Kay says. "Going all-natural is-- ghh--" she chokes and flinches, thought derailed, as Summer puts her lips and nose to the basin of her armpit.

"Don't listen to her," Winter whispers in Kay's other ear. "I think you smell really good. Even here... see?" She copies her sister and starts to eat Kay's armpit like it's a pussy. The same moves Kay taught her for pleasing a drippy cunt, she puts to use on Kay's drippy pit. In Kay's current pose, the tendons at front and rear make the bowl-like shape of her armpits seem impossibly deep. Sweat still pools there, salty and acrid.

Kay, more from being held down than having her armpits licked, starts to have a miniature panic attack. But the Denali sisters have it under control. They reach down in tandem and stroke Kay's pussy until she calms. And as they start to finger her, she finally gets into it. Her eyelids droop shut as she surrenders to these dirty feelings.

"Summer, is it true...?" Kay asks weakly. "Wes... likes putting her face in your armpits...?"

Summer nods, tongue raking the still-perspiring gooseflesh.

So Wes really does take after Noelle. Kay cums on the two sisters' hands while reflecting on that, dreamily thinking how much she would absolutely love to have, instead of Summer and Winter -- Noelle and Wesley eating out her armpits and playing together inside her pussy.

She intends to make it happen. Sooner rather than later.

---

They hit a boulder in the middle of the stream. The kayak partially grounds itself, listing to the side. The combined weight of Amelia and Lily's dangling torsos make it capsize. Upside-down in the creek, they drop from the kayak as their eyes fill with the murky, frigid, rushing water. Their PFDs do what their cold-shocked and flailing bodies can't: both girls bob to the surface like two apples dropped in a tub. The kayak pops up a few yards downstream, irretrievable, as it floats off to embark upon solo adventures. A kayak forging its own path in life.

Lily shrieks and splashes around. Amelia is a quicker thinker, and takes Lily's hand before doggy paddling towards the nearest bank. Once the two find purchase on the gently sloped, loamy shore, they crawl on all fours until they fully exit the water, hacking, coughing, dripping, and miserable.

Amelia struggles to turn and sit on her butt, propped by one hand. She pulls Lily a little closer and helps her sit up on her butt too.

"You're welcome," Amelia says.

Lily tries to squeegee the water from her face with one hand. "This fuckin' sucks. I hate camping."

"If anyone asks, we tell them that a bear ate our kayak. Got it?"

Lily glances around. "Fuck. Did we lose the kayak?"

"Unless you've got a spare in your pocket."

"How far from camp are we?" There's new and deeper panic in her voice.

Amelia twists in place and looks behind her. Through the trees and thickets, she glimpses the sleek side trim of the Winnebago. "About 150 yards. Maybe less."

Lily recoils as her fear transmutes into sheer confusion -- and then from confusion to a cathartic giggle fit. She leans forward, gently headbutting Amelia's bosom, and Amelia giggles too. All the time they spent rowing and they ended up basically right back where they started. But it's true: all's well that ends--

"AAAAAHHHH! FUCK! LEECH!"

Lily jumps upright and reaches for her forearm, but Amelia stops her.

"LET GO OF ME! THERE'S A FUCKIN LEECH ON ME! FUCK!"

Amelia ignores Lily's shouted obscenities. She reaches into her butt pocket and produces a Swiss army knife. She flicks it open. Then, with thumb and forefinger, she spreads the area around the leech bite and digs the blade between Lily's skin and the sucker. Once the leech detaches, Amelia uses the blade to flick it back from whence it came, into the creek.

"Don't tear a leech off if you see one stuck to you. Its head will stay attached and you could get an infection."

"Humans weren't supposed to be going around where there's leeches. Maybe if we ain't fuck around where there's leeches we wouldn't need leech removal methods." Lily puts a hand to her collar and still finds herself breathing ragged. "Thanks, though. You saved me a couple-three times there."

Amelia grabs Lily by the hand and tugs her closer.

"Hup-- what the--"

"Let me see if you've got any more on you." Amelia rises a bit in place as she surveys Lily's skin from hand to forearm to shoulder, then repeats it with Lily's other arm.

"Do I got any more?" Lily asks.

Amelia turns her around and pulls her wet hair aside to examine the nape of her neck. She looks at Lily's calves and ankles next. "I don't see any more."

"'I don't see any more' is the worst answer!" Lily cries. "'No' is a better answer! 'No' is confident! 'I don't see any more' means 'there could absolutely be more!'"

"Fine. Then no."

"You can't take that shit back! I heard you the first time!"

Amelia pauses to inspect herself for leeches, too. She turns her arms this way and that, checks her legs, feels gingerly along the back of her neck. "Huh. Guess it was just... a fluke."

"Fluke my ass. Why couldn't you get the fluke then huh."

"It was a pun..."

"I got it. I don't want your fuckin worm jokes, lady. Jesus." She fights lamely against her own PFD before finally extricating herself from it and letting it fall in the wet grass. "I came on this little excursion of yours to seduce you. Instead I get dumped in the ass-end of Leech Creek and end up having to listen to your stand-up leech comedy. Shoot me in the brains."

"*Seduce* me--"

"Shouldn't be too hard. I thought. If fuckin' Wes could do it."

Amelia is gobsmacked. "Wes told you about me?"

"Wes got a type. Big fat tall bitches with milky titties who probably make her call 'em mommy." Lily pantomimes the shape of enormous breasts she doesn't herself own. "If you ain't taking full advantage of her face as a convenient stool and you call yourself a lesbian, well, you're an idiot. And I know you're not an idiot. So."

Amelia smiles. "I guess she didn't tell you about me, then."

"What's there to tell? That she went diving in your muff like it was the Marianas Trench? Newsflash. I coulda figured."

"Do you like older women, too, Lily?" Amelia leans back a little, smiles, pulls a stray strand of hair from in front of her face.

"Don't get this twisted. I was supposed to seduce *you*. But after all this bullshit, I'm not in the mood. So forget it."

Lily tries to leave towards camp, but Amelia grabs her wrist as she passes. Lily tugs uselessly against her, and finally gives up.

"I should inspect your body a little more thoroughly," Amelia says. "Don't you think?"

Lily turns and gazes sternly back at her. "If I say no?"

"Then you can go back to camp."

Silence settles as they stare at one another.

"You ain't gonna take me down and force me?" Lily finally asks.

Amelia lets go of her. "God, no. What kind of person do you think I am?"

"Kind with a hankerin for underage snatch. Wouldn't surprise me in the least if you were a rapist too."

Amelia cocks her head. "Do you want me to force you?" Her voice is silken.

"Well. No."

Amelia draws one knee up and lets her wrist rest on the kneecap. "Then go on back to camp. I'll grab your vest."

Lily's mouth trembles with indignant anger. Instead of turning back for camp, she just stands there in silence.

"Lily?--"

Lily unbuttons the brass clasp on her jeans and tugs them off. It takes a lot of effort since the cold water made them shrink, but Amelia appreciates the way it makes something so simple into a sort of peep show. Next comes Lily's shirt, button by button starting from the navel and working up. Amelia's sly smile grows wider with every one that comes undone. At last Lily is down to her skivvies.

"Those are cute panties," Amelia says, reaching up to gently pet the C-string between Lily's thin legs. Then her face grows more serious, her voice deeper: "take your bra off."

Lily peels away her bra and lets it fall. Still tickling Lily's kitty through her panties, Amelia admires the tiny bee-stings Lily calls breasts, their raw umber color and how the outline of her ribcage is visible below. Like Wes, Lily is a tiny girl, underfed and waifish. A noise like "aahn~" escapes Lily's lips.

Amelia loves how very little of Lily's shame this C-string covers, how the wrap just barely reaches Lily's asshole and just barely comes past her clit. The rest of Lily's entire puffy mound is on display, almost to the very edge of her labia. And from up close, Amelia can make out the shape of Lily's pussy lips through the thin wet material. She can smell Lily's scent, too. Her fingers snake up and behind Lily from between Lily's legs, tugging her even closer, so Amelia can enjoy the smell even more intimately.

Lily paws at the life vest still strapped to Amelia, so Amelia helps her get rid of it. Once it's off and discarded, Lily rips open Amelia's blouse, sending buttons flying. Amelia's heavy tits spring out. They sag low towards her belly in a too-small bra that just barely contains them. Amelia squeaks in surprise. "I... see you're interested in my breasts," she manages with a laugh.

Lily squats down on her haunches. Amelia peels off the young girl's sodden C-string as easily as sliding a wet bandaid off and lets her pristine pussy breathe free. Lily hardly notices, is still too intently focused on touching, feeling, and squeezing at Amelia's breasts. She pokes and prods them where the bra leaves deep indentations at its edges. So Amelia runs a forearm across the pale expanse of her cleavage to push the bra down and expose her nipples to Lily's curious fingers. "Go ahead... play with them."

"They're..." Lily stammers. Jealousy and desire both live in that single simple syllable. She crawls into Amelia's lap. She latches a suckling mouth to Amelia's nipple. Wetly, Amelia fingers Lily, and pets the back of Lily's head with her other hand.

"I think it's you who's got a type, isn't it?" Amelia says. "You're the one who wants to call me Mommy."

Lily doesn't answer. It's too embarrassing. She closes her eyes and sucks and sucks instead. Her eyelids squeeze together as she tries to stave off the orgasm that Amelia's skilled fingers are building inside her. Amelia's thumb teases her clitty and Amelia's digits rub roughly against the roof of her vagina, battering her G-spot. "Mmmmf~" she grunts into Amelia's titmeat.

"Do you like that, baby?"

Pulling off Amelia's pale pink nipple with a plop, Lily says, "you're so warm... fuck... let's eat each other out."

She reaches for Amelia's fly, but Amelia stops her. "Sorry, honey. Off limits."

Lily's voice drops a full octave. "No." She reaches again for Amelia's pants. There's a bit of a scuffle then. "Why, why--" Lily demands over and again. "Time of the month? Don't care. Just let me-- let me--"

Then she feels it. And Amelia feels her feel it.

"...That's why."

"Oh Jesus-- of fucking course-- does every girl Wes fucks gotta have a dick?"

Amelia holds Lily tight around the small of her back. "I'm not what you think."

Lily unzips her, and this time, Amelia doesn't fight it. Cat's out of the bag anyway. Her cock pokes up in the space between their bodies. "Looks like you are," Lily says, staring at it.

"I'm more. Go on... reach down below. Underneath my balls."

Lily can't see, and has to rely on her tactile sense to tell the story as she wriggles her fingers around inside Amelia's pants. "Under your... w-- what the... you-- what *are* you?"

Amelia whispers in her ear: "I'm whatever you want."

"You gotta be... one in a million-- no... one in a billion..."

"I know you're a lesbian," Amelia whispers. "Well, I'm a woman. Just think of this thing poking up as... my clit." She nibbles Lily's earlobe. Her voice drops lower. "Mommy's clit."

Lily draws a hissing breath through her teeth. She's still feeling the complex folds and crevices of Amelia's mature womanly cunt with her fingers. Unable to constrain herself when touching such a succulent, squishy, sticky hole, she slips a couple inside. Amelia giggles low and husky, and starts to stroke Lily's pussy for her again too. She enjoys how it makes Lily's slight frame go all trembly and jittery in her lap.

Squeezing Amelia's left tit, Lily resumes sucking. Since Amelia is so endowed in the chest that her nipples are inverted, to Lily it's like eating out a miniature pussy as she probes her tongue around the folds of Amelia's areola. She makes it extra wet and sloppy, just the way she always does when she eats a bitch out for real. But the oral attention quickly arouses Amelia enough that her nipple gets just as hard as her dick is, and pokes out. Lily isn't deterred. She scrapes her tongue and her teeth across the sensitive nub, making Amelia shiver.

They masturbate each other for a few minutes, writhing and moaning and just enjoying the warmth of each other. The finally, looking up at Amelia with big bright brown eyes, Lily says through a mouth still half-full of Amelia's fatty udder, "can I please eat your pussy, Mommy?"

Amelia pets her. "Of course, baby." She spreads her legs.

Lily tugs down Amelia's pants and crawls between her. It's clear that Lily is more than a bit intimidated by the massive cock and hanging nuts that obscure access to the prize she really wants. So Amelia helpfully pulls these aside, to bare to Lily's view a drippy, pretty pink twat. Lily literally drools -- and then she dives in.

The reaction it draws is instant. "Oh, baby... you are... very, very good at this..."

Lily nods, and her elfin nose tickles Amelia's labia. Amelia wants to feel that again, so she prompts: "does Mommy's pussy taste good, baby?"

Lily nods. Amelia hugs herself. It's like Lily's face is the perfect sex toy just for her.

"Do you like the way Mommy's pussy smells? Do you like eating Mommy's cunt?"

Lily nods. Eagerly. Amelia feels the start of an orgasm about to ripple through her, centered on the spot where Lily's nose rubs her.

"Sit up, baby," she prompts. Lily does. Her dark face shines with Amelia's cunt juice. "Can you play with my clit for me, too?"

"Nnn," Lily dithers. She's never been a meat and two veg sort of girl.

"It's okay. Look." Amelia lightly pinches Lily's throbbing pink clitoris. "You have one, too. And it feels good when I touch you here, right?"

"Yes-- y-es Mommy."

Amelia grabs herself obscenely with both hands and very slowly strokes her cock. "They may be different sizes, but they're just the same. I'll feel good when you touch mine, too. So can you do it for me?"

She lets go as Lily hesitantly clasps her hands around her fuckmeat. The rugged feeling of it, its well-defined veins and leaky tip, its swollen foreskin, its unique scent... is definitely not feminine whatsoever, but Lily can't deny how erotic it is just to touch and stroke. "Like this?" She asks, unsure.

Amelia bites her lower lip. "Mmm hmm." Her eyes go half lidded. "Lily, baby... can I rub my clit on your pussy? Pretty please?"

Lily wanks Amelia's cock, her resistance crumbling. Amelia lets the request kick around inside Lily's frayed mind for a minute or so while Lily sits there on her knees just stroking her. She doesn't push Lily any harder. And finally Lily nods.

"Lie back, then. That's it." Amelia gets over top of Lily and lines her cock up with that tight brown crevice that's so sticky and warm to the touch. The lips of Lily's cunt cling tenaciously to the sides and sensitive bottom of her cock. She saws herself back and forth, masturbating herself with Lily's cunt, while taking care to press down hard on Lily's own clit. Amelia swears she can feel Lily's pulse translated through that tiny little nubbin, straight into the throbbing underside of her penis. "See? Our clits are kissing. Isn't it sweet? Mommy's clit-fucking you, baby."

Lily can say nothing sensible, but only babbles as the hot pleasure courses through her.

"Can I put it in?"

This snaps Lily out of it. "W-what? No!"

Amelia hikes Lily's leg up and hugs it as she rocks back and forth against Lily's dewy folds. "Mommy doesn't want to put it in very far. Only a little. Just the head. It's making such a mess all over your tummy... I don't want to get you any stickier."

Lily chews her thumbnail. "But..."

"I'll let you nurse on me," Amelia coaxes, hefting the underside of one of her tits.

"It's gonna hurt."

"It won't hurt. I promise I'll be so gentle with you, Lily, honey."

"...You promise?"

"Promise promise."

"Then... a-all right."

Amelia hauls back and jabs the bulbous head of her prick into Lily's cunt. She sighs a sweet sigh of relief. "That's it..."

"Mommy... p-please..."

Remembering her promise, Amelia lies forward and presents her swaying jugs to Lily's searching mouth. Lily sucks them like she really wants Amelia's milk. Well, she probably does. "Just like that. Greedy girl." She presses so hard on Lily's face that her tit almost wholly envelops her.

Amelia keeps one palm flat on the ground by Lily's ear and fucks the first inch or so of her cock in and out, over and over. But this is more frustrating than relieving. She needs more, so much more. "Lily... you're such a good girl for me -- do you think Mommy could put her clit a little farther in? Halfway in?"

"But... Mommy..."

"I promise it'll feel good. And I'd be so happy if you let me."

Lily squeezes Amelia's milk bags and nods, wincing -- wincing even before Amelia fucks her deeper. And she winces much harder when Amelia does it.

"Mommy--!"

"Shhh. Just suck. It'll feel good in a moment, it'll feel so good... you have to relax... there you go."

They rut like that for a minute or two, and as Lily suckles at Amelia's tit, pleasure slowly replaces the discomfort of getting penetrated. It's not, in the end, any worse than any of her dildos at home... right? She tries to convince herself that the worst is over and Amelia won't press for anything more. Of course, she's wrong.

"Oh baby... you're so good on Mommy's clit..." Amelia sighs, enjoying the easy rhythm of fucking such a small girl. She strokes Lily's tawny hair. "Listen... since we've done this much... since we've gone this far, it's not problem if I put it all the way inside you. Right?"

"Mommmyyyy..."

"You don't want to make me sad, do you?" Amelia says.

"I... guess it would be okay," Lily murmurs.

"Is that okay? You'll let me fuck you all the way inside?"

"Yes Mommy."

Lily's body actually slides a couple inches backwards as Amelia sinks all the way in with one powerful thrust. Fully inserted straight to Lily's sucking uterus, Amelia throws her head back in the triumph of sexual conquest. Lily tries to scream but her wind's been knocked from her and she can't. Instead her mouth just hangs open silently.

Without asking for permission any more, Amelia starts to fuck her raw. In and out, lying fully on top of her. It's not the gentle fuck Amelia promised. Amelia uses Lily's little body like she's a disposable plastic toy.

"Th-- this isn't..." Lily says. Her voice sounds like it's being jostled along with the rest of her body as Amelia fucks inside her.

"What's that, baby?" Amelia asks, although she doesn't really care.

"Th-this isn't... isn't a clit..."

Amelia hugs Lily around the back of the head. She keeps Lily's legs spread apart with her knees, so that Lily's cunt is utterly defenseless against her pounding dick and totally accessible for the deepest possible strokes.

"That's right," Amelia pants. "You're so smart. It's Mommy's dick. You've got Mommy's dick inside you." She presses Lily's mouth to her bosom and thrills to feel Lily's lips begin to suck again. "I'm so sorry I lied, but... I couldn't help myself... I wanted to put my dick inside your pussy so bad... and now... and now I'm gonna cum inside it... Mommy's gonna cum inside her little baby!" Her hips become a blur and the sound of thwacking flesh fills the forest. "Here it comes! I'm gonna cream you, baby! Get ready!"

Lily orgasms on Amelia's raping cock as it squirts her full of smelly seed. Her shrill whine of ecstasy is muffled by Amelia's giant tits. The last intelligible word she gets out is "Mommy!!" -- and after that there's nothing left but howling, as her back walls go shuddering from labia to uterus at the sensation of getting hosed down with piping hot almost gelatinous ball milk.

---

At Olivia's stern insistence, the group gathers around the campfire that night to roast s'mores. The mood is easy and restful, with everyone tuckered out from the day's activities. Winter snuggles with her father. N-Mom rests her head on K-Mom's shoulder. Liz whispers in hushed tones with them, something you can't make out, and figure you probably don't want to. Lily has herself wrapped around Amelia like a rhesus m-- like a creature that enjoys wrapping itself around things. (You wonder what may have happened on their kayaking adventure.) On Amelia's other side, Olivia busies herself skewering marshmallows, Graham crackers, and chocolate, doling out the kebabs to the others, giggling. Auburn and Will quietly play footsy with Amber -- and Auburn was right, she gives as good as she gets. She isn't afraid to kick the boys hard in the shins as a tactic. Her mobility is a little hobbled though, still being chained to Vivian. Summer forces you to sit in her lap, a position you'd enjoy in private but find mortifying in public. And even Talia showed her face tonight. She sits on her butt near the campfire, legs stretched out with her feet near the flame, propped on both palms behind her back.

It's nice and comfy and warm and cuddly and there's something you can't get out of your mind.

"Where's Ophie?" You ask.

---

Ophie sits by a window as she flicks a flashlight off and on, repeatedly. Short, short, short -- long, long, long -- short, short, short.

Noah returns from checking the stairwell. "It's about two-thirds full."

"Mm."

Short, short, short -- long, long, long -- short, short, short.

A little while ago, Noah broke open a vending machine by throwing a chair into it. It made Ophie squeak in fright, which was so cute it made his heart melt. But now as he stands there watching Ophie signal for help, he notices the bags of chips and cookies he stole for her. They lie in a neat pile on the ground beside her, unopened.

"You didn't eat."

"I have no appetite."

"Really? After all that?"

She gives him a look.

"You should eat," Noah says. "We need to keep our strength."

She says something, but the wind screams against the windows for a moment and Noah can't hear.

"What now?" Noah asks.

"If this continues for much longer, we will need to make a decision. Cling to the radio mast or swim for dry ground. Both options carry significant risk."

Noah breathes deep and stands tall. "I'll keep you safe. I promise."

"Do not make unfulfillable promises."

Short, short, short -- long, long, long -- short, short, short.

---

"I have it on good authority that Noah Abrams is missing, too," Aunt Vivian says.

"Oh!" Amber screams. "So since Noah is missing, I should be perfectly fucking okie dokie that Ophie is missing too!"

You understand the implication even if Amber doesn't. "They're together," you say. Amber glares at you. You scooch forward in Summer's lap. "They must have been sneaking off somewhere together, when the storm hit... which means they're probably just holed up waiting for it to blow over."

"Correct," Vivian says. "Or so Whitney thinks. She is searching with considerable resources in hand." She frowns at Amber. "Regardless. There is nothing you can do for her right now."

"I'm gonna break these fucking cuffs," Amber snarls.

"You cannot break these cuffs."

Amber grits her teeth and pulls with all her might at the handcuffs, but they don't give.

---

"You're burning up." Rose lays a palm flat against Alabaster's forehead, but he angrily brushes it off.

"I can't believe none of you told me--"

"Don't start, dickbreath," Whitney says. "Excuse the fuck out of us for thinking we shouldn't burden you while you were dying to death on an operating table--" Renee shoots her a quizzical look, so she corrects herself: "--while Mom saved you to death on an operating table. We're gonna find Ophie. And I'm gonna kick her butt for running away during an ARkStorm."

Up at the yacht's bridge, David steers. Alabaster tries to stand, to go there and confer with him, but isn't strong enough yet to move around so easily or so quickly. He hisses in sudden pain and Rose makes him sit again.

"We'll find her, Ally," Alex says, squeezing his hand.

"We love that silly little girl," Sable agrees. "We'll track her down no matter what. That's a promise."

The problem, Alabaster knows, is that Ophie likes to frequent places at sea level. Which means if she got caught in the storm unawares... well. It's hard for Alabaster to bid away mental images of Ophie washed out to sea. Even though he knows she can take care of herself, he's panicking at the thought of worst-case-scenario. All these years he in some way thought he and his loved ones were invincible -- now he knows in his heart that they are anything but. He cradles his head and tries not to hyperventilate.

---

"Hmm. Look." Ophelia points at the control panel in the DJ booth. "This station's broadcasting equipment still has auxiliary power. There must be a generator somewhere up here."

The room is penetrated by a deep red glow from the many LED lights on the panel, and Noah can't make sense of what he's seeing in such lighting. But Ophelia can. With a select few button presses, a tape reel whirs to life. She sits in a roller chair in front of the foam-covered boom mic and clears her throat in her pixieish way. Leaning in so close her lips practically kiss the foam, she says with perfect elocution: "Ophelia Soliloquy is alive."

She stops the tape, and then plays it back through the booth's sound system. Ophelia Soliloquy is alive. Ophelia Soliloquy is alive. Ophelia Soliloquy is alive.

She kills the playback and sets the station to broadcast.

"I guess I'm not alive, then," Noah says.

Ophelia sticks her tongue out at him.

Something catches her eye and she turns in her chair. "Oh..."

"What?"

"The station mast is lighted. Of course. For low-flying aircraft to avoid. The lights are powered off right now to conserve generator fuel... save for a single red light at the pinnacle -- but that can be overridden... right... here." She smoothly plays her fingers across some sliders. The ceiling bulbs in the room outside grow dimmer as wattage gets diverted.

"How long will the generators last?" Noah asks.

"Anywhere from minutes to days."

"Do you think anyone will see us?"

Ophelia smiles. "They are bound to. We're the only light for miles."

---

The next morning, you try to beg off activities again, but to your distress you find that you'd be the only one left at camp. Gideon is taking Winter fishing on a little rowboat, just the two of them; Summer is joining Liz and N-Mom for another hike; and the others are going on a guided tour of historic downtown Vail.

"If I have to stay at camp to babysit your lazy ass, I swear I'll make you learn how to field dress a deer," K-Mom tells you as the group readies up to leave. "Just come and do stuff with us like a normal person. For fuck's sake."

Always under the watchful eye of the grownups. Great.

"Psst. Wanna see something cool?"

You turn around to find Amber tugging on your shirt sleeve.

"Uh," you mutter.

"Come on. It's in the woods over there, not far -- it'll just take a second. Found it the other day with Viv." The Moms both step forward as if to cordon you off, looking concerned. Amber sighs deeply. "Geez. Fucking fascists. Not like we're gonna run off anywhere, huh? Not with me still BDSMed to my psycho aunt." She tugs uselessly on her handcuff for effect. Aunt Vivian doesn't budge.

"You have my word that she will be protected," Vivian says.

"Uh huh," K-Mom says, clearly not wowed.

"You guys are going to be late for the tour," N-Mom adds.

"We're already late! Will isn't even awake yet!" Amber cries. She gestures at the tent on the distance where inside, even now, Lily and Auburn are making Indian war cries to try to rouse him. "And Olivia is... doing whatever the fuck it is she's doing right now--" she points to where Olivia sits on a log on the other side of camp, whistling like a bird through her stacked, cupped palms, and listening for birdsong in reply. She appears to be wearing only a t-shirt.

"She's birdwatching," you say.

"What birds?" Amber says. "Tell me. Are they the kind that are attracted to fat asses hanging out?"

N-Mom keeps looking back. K-Mom clears her throat and nudges her.

"We're not gonna lose any time taking a five-second detour," Amber says.

"Lead the way, then," K-Mom says.

Amber was telling the truth. The place she leads you to is only a couple hundred yards from camp. It's a bit of a hike over some hillocks and through some patches of brush, but you come out on the other end in a large flat expanse at the base of a mountain, covered in shrubs and windswept leaves but fewer trees than typical for these woods. You can't tell at first for all the overgrowth and how decrepit and deteriorated it is, but you're standing in the ruins of what was once a truly massive structure.

"What the hell is this place?" K-Mom says, wandering around, testing bits of a crumbling concrete wall with her hands. N-Mom kicks at an ancient, tipped-over chair, and jumps back when ants go scattering from its innards.

"I am not entirely certain," Vivian says, standing near the structure's center while she watches your mothers aimlessly explore. What little of the structure stands even partially intact is covered in graffiti. Gang tags and other random scrawlings, nothing you even begin to understand. "I believe this building is on land that belongs to my family, but I was never aware of any major construction at any of our Vail plots."

"So..." you drawl.

"This must have been mother's work. Done in secrecy. And when the cancer took her, whatever secret project she had underway here died in the womb -- so to speak."

"Mara Darkbloom..." K-Mom says. "What could she have been doing here?" She tests the rail of a corrugated metal staircase along one of the walls that leads to nothing but the sunlight above, and which groans weirdly at her slightest touch. She jerks her hand back.

You walk further on and kneel amid a dusty wreck of corroded metal. Something stood here -- some things, rather -- but time and the elements have crumbled them. Sifting through the mess, you find circuit boards.

"Server towers," Vivian tells you. "What remains of them, anyway."

"Vivian's mom was planning something real fucked-up here," Amber says. "Tell 'em more."

"Absalom Abrams used to work for Darkbloom Enterprises. He split off and founded his own company around the time of mother's death. I've every reason to believe he was involved with this facility's construction."

You rise, and join Amber at her side.

"This place has been picked-through," N-Mom says. "I see evidence of arson... and if those were server towers back there? They didn't get so thoroughly destroyed by random chance."

"I agree," Vivian says.

Something glinting on the ground catches your eye, and you go to examine it. It turns out to be only a discarded can of spray paint. But as you cross towards it, some force nearly bowls you over, and you take a hissing breath as you wobble and steady yourself.

"Wes?" Your Moms says at the same time.

"I'm fine. It's just -- a chill." You rub your arms and shrug it off. "That's all." You test the ground with one of your toes. "Right here. I just got the weirdest chill, right here."

END OF EPISODE 9.