Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Chapter 6 Pictures At An Exhibition

   It was only 4:30 when I got home so I knew that I had time for a good
cum staring at my filthy body in my mirror.  I kept seeing myself with my
head stuck between those two garbage cans as the two of them fucked me
senseless and the picture of it drove me over the top in no time at all.  I
took a shower and put on a clean bra and tank top, my favorite pink panties
and a `decent' pair of cut-offs.  Then I went through the whole house
making sure that I hadn't missed anything that morning.  I didn't want to
do anything to make my mom mad at me again.  I was still hoping that she
would `unground' me.  I wasn't so sure that I wanted to go to the pool
though.  That would be too humiliating, and there was no way that I could
go into the water if I didn't want to get arrested.

   The only thing that I could find that was out of place was my towel and
the magazines in the back yard.  Mr.  Howard was right.  Just looking at my
flip-flops reminded me of how they had spanked me so hard, and why.  So I
ran out bare foot to get them, threw the towel down the laundry chute and
put the magazines back on the coffee table in the living room.  When my mom
got home she was early and didn't have Debbie with her.  She retraced my
steps and inspected the whole house before telling me what a great job I
had done.  She had decided to unground me and take me to get my new suit
that night, instead of making me wait until Saturday.

   It didn't take long.  I fell in love with a peach colored one as soon as
I saw it and it fit me perfectly.  The cups were separated by a string so I
could adjust them and that's when we learned that I was now a C cup.  The
bottoms were just right; not too snug and not too loose like the first one
she bought me.  I must have thanked her 5 times before she told me
`enough'. The best thing for her was when we went up to the counter and
found out that it was cheaper and she ended up with a store credit.

   I thought we were going to leave after that but she surprised me again.
She took me into Penney's and bought me 2 new school uniforms.  2 new bras,
and 2 pairs of bikini brief panties.  A lot of the other girls were wearing
thongs by then and would make fun of those of us that didn't, but it never
really bothered me.  Thongs were expensive.  I knew that she couldn't
afford to buy 5 sets of everything I needed to get me through a whole week,
let alone pay twice as much for half as much material.  She told me that I
would just have to make do until she could afford to buy me more.  I wasn't
about to tell her that secretly I was glad.  The slut in me couldn't wait
to tease the boys at school with my short skirts, tight blouses and
camel-toed panties 3 days a week.  We picked up Debbie and on the way home
she surprised me again when she stopped at McDonalds and bought each of us
a chocolate shake.  So even though it was a day late it was a pretty good
birthday for me.  There was no way that I could tell her about the present
that Mr.  Sanders had given me.

   Somehow word got out of course.  That fall I learned that guys talk just
like girls do.  It wasn't just Mr.  Sanders and Mr.  Bailey's friends at
the monthly `poke her' games.  It was Mr.  Hanacek, who lived two doors
down the street, Mr.  Prough who lived right behind us across the alley,
and Mr.  Groh's brother.  He lived up in Florence but once the two of them
started playing with me he visited his brother a lot more than he ever had
before.  Mr.  Prough was the best in a lot of ways.  He was an insurance
agent and one or two days a week he would come home early and wait for me
between our garage and the Lilac bushes.  The first time he did it I almost
jumped out of my skirt.  It was always the same.  As soon as I came through
the bushes he would look down at me and ask,

   "Before or after?"

   "Before."

   That was it.  That was the total extent of our conversations for the
next five years.  He would make me bend over with my hands against the
garage wall and flip up my skirt.  10 hard spanks later he would unzip his
pants, fuck me as hard as could for 5 or 6 minutes, dump his load in me,
zip up and walk back through the bushes.  Nobody ever made feel like a
dirty little cum dump the way that he did.  By Halloween Mr.  Anderson and
Mr.  Espland from the street behind Mr.  Bailey were fucking me too.  I had
pretty much become the neighborhood slut.

   Mr.  Bailey called me the neighborhood bicycle because everybody was
riding me.  He said that at one of Mr.  Sanders `poke-her' parties and I
didn't think they were ever going to stop laughing.  I was bent over the
arm of the chair with 5 loads of cum dripping out of me and 3 or 4 running
down my face at the time, so they couldn't see how humiliated I felt and
how much I wanted to cum because of it.  Mr.  Sanders knew me better than
any of them and even though he couldn't see my face he knew what I was
feeling.  As soon as I pushed my hand down between my thighs he looked over
at me and said,

   "Get your fingers out of there, Candy or I'll give you another
spanking!"

   I had already had two 13's by then.  They liked to see me with my cheeks
glowing red and every now and then one of them would come over and give me
5 or 6 more to keep them that way.  I know it sounds twisted but I loved
their attention and I loved it when they spanked me like that.  It always
made nips and clit hard and my cooter wet.  Isn't that what every girl
wants?  Even the ones that aren't sluts like me?  I'll never know who did
it but I suspect it was Mr.  Bailey since he is the one that first came up
with it.  But I can't be sure because they all started calling me that
after that night.  Christmas morning when we came out on our porch to go to
church there was a wrapped box with my name on it in front of the door. 
Inside was an old fashioned bicycle bell.  I told my mom that it must be a
prank by one of the boys at school but I knew what it really meant and had
to spend the whole Mass sitting on wet panties.

   But now that I think about it Mr.  Sanders was a good candidate too. 
Just like when he would send me over to his house to get things that he
`forgot' he loved to give me reminders of what a little slut I was.  The
Thursday morning of my `birthday week' I ran down the stairs just like I
always did but he had pinned GHS on his door.  I knew he was making me wait
for him and I guess to be honest I was kind of in love with him as much as
in lust.  All of them made me cum but I definitely liked it the best when I
was with him.  I was disappointed but I knew I couldn't expect him to want
me every day and at least it gave me a chance to show off my new suit at
the pool all day.

   Ashley and Courtney were jealous because I had one of the new string
type tops and they still had halters.  They were happy for me because they
said they knew how embarrassing it must have been for me to been seen with
a camel-toe all of the time.  I didn't dare admit to them how much I
secretly loved being seen like that.  They also admitted that it had been
embarrassing for them to be seen with me, even though they knew it was
because my mom couldn't afford to buy me a new one.  They were afraid that
since people assumed I was a slut because of my suit they would think my
friends were sluts too.

   Friday morning was the same thing.  When I got down to the door it was
only to see GHS pinned to it.  I remember being worried that maybe he
didn't ever want to be with me again, that maybe I had acted too nasty on
my birthday in front of him and his friends.  I kept worrying it about it
off and on all day to the point that Ashley asked if I was ok.  I told her
that it was just a headache.  When we got back to her house on the way home
I told her that I didn't need her wrap anymore because of my new suit and
gave it back to her.  It's bad, I know, but one block later I pulled the
cups apart as far as I dared, pulled my bottoms up as tight as I could and
creamed a little every time a car would drive by me.  By the time I got to
our block I wasn't just showing my slit to everyone but a very wet slit.

   I shouldn't have worried about Mr.  Sanders.  When I got home his truck
was in his driveway and he was waiting for me in his garage.  As soon as he
saw my soaking wet camel-toe he started to laugh, reached down to stroke me
and said,

   "God you are such a little slut, Candy.  Now you are not just letting me
humiliate you, you are doing it to yourself.  But where is your other suit?
Rich told me what they made you do to it yesterday."

   As he continued to rub me I explained to him that I couldn't wear it
because it was barely decent when it was dry and was all but transparent
when it was wet.  I told him that I would get arrested if I wore it to the
pool or out in public.  He said that he didn't care and that next time he
saw me in a bathing suit it better be that one.  Then he told me that he
had plans for me the next day and to make sure I brought it with me.  He
stopped rubbing me right when I was on the edge, told me to turn around,
grabbed the bows on the sides of my suit and then pulled my bottoms right
through my legs so fast it took me a second to realize what he had done. 
He made me give him my top, spanked me really hard and said,

   "You get these back when I see you in the other one.  Now go."

   I started to gush before I got up to our back door and finished myself
off bent over our kitchen sink watching him walk into his house.

   I was worried.  Since my mom had cancelled my birthday party earlier in
the week I wasn't going to have anything to do all day Saturday.  I
couldn't go to the pool in my blue suit and if I didn't go, my mom would
get suspicious and start asking questions.  I knew I was going to have to
lie to her and I really hated doing that because she always caught me.  So
I did what I always did when I didn't want to do something.  I faked being
sick.  When she got home I was under the covers in my bed flushed and a
little sweaty.  I had timed it a little too close and my dildo was still in
me when she walked in.  I told her that I didn't feel very well and that I
had a terrible headache.  She put it down to too much sun at the pool that
day, got me a couple of her migraine pills and told me that I would
probably feel better in the morning.

   My other worry was Mr.  Sanders.  He had said that he had plans for me
and though I had no idea what they were I was pretty sure they included my
blue suit, with me in it.  There was no way that I could get by my mom and
out of the house in it.  I shouldn't have worried.  When he wanted to get
into my pants he always found a way.  When I woke up the next morning I
decided that I had to keep playing sick.  Instead of taking a shower like I
usually did I threw on a t-shirt and a pair of panties and walked down the
stairs with `bed-head', hoping to convince my mom that I still didn't feel
well.  But when I got down to the living room I could hear her on the
phone,

   "Oh Jim, that's a wonderful idea.  I'm sure she would love to.  All she
does is go to the pool every day and this will be a nice change for her. 
Let me go up and ask her and I will call you back.  Oh, wait here she is
now.  Candy, it is Jim Sanders.  Your Dad has to work today and he wants to
know if you would like to go up to the car show in Stevensville with him.
He is a judge this year and he needs someone to hand out the flyers on his
Mustang while he is out looking at the other cars.  What do you think?"

   I remember feeling so relieved that I couldn't help but let a smile
cross my face,

   "Sure mom that would be awesome."

   "Jim, she'd love to go.  What time are you going to leave?  Really?  No,
that's fine.  She can get ready fast when she wants to.  I'll make sure she
is over there with time to spare.  That's a good idea.  I'll tell her.  And
thanks for asking her, Jim"

   When she hung up the phone she told me that I had half an hour to eat
some cereal, take a shower, blow dry my hair, get dressed and over to Mr.
Sanders house.  She was right about one thing.  I can move pretty fast when
I want to.  And I knew I was going to get bent over something before the
day was over so I definitely wanted to.  When I walked back into the room
brushing my hair my mom was putting my Grizzlies' sweatshirt and gray
sweatpants into my backpack.

   "Jim suggested you bring some warm clothes with you.  You know how cool
it can get up there in the evenings.  So I packed your sweats, your
Skechers and a pair of socks.  And why don't you put your hair up in pig
tails today.  You look so cute that way and it will help keep your hair out
of your face if it gets windy.  You better take that brush with you just in
case.  Now get dressed.  He's leaving in ten minutes."

   I knew why he really wanted me to bring some warm clothes and it had
nothing to do with it getting cold up the valley.  It was August, and while
it was possible that cool air would roll down the Bitterroots in the
evening it was just as likely that it wouldn't.  What he really wanted, and
expected, was that my blue suit would be wrapped up in my backpack too.  As
soon as my mom left the room I went over to my bottom dresser drawer where
I had hidden it and stuffed it under my sweats.  Then I put my hair up and
ran down the stairs.  My flip-flops were by the back door and as I put them
on I shuddered and felt a glob of goo soak into my panties.  I gave my mom
a kiss and one of those weird thoughts went through my brain again.  I was
wondering what she would have done if she knew how wet my panties were, and
why.

   He was waiting for me and when I got over to his driveway he pulled the
back of the seat down on my side, threw my backpack on top his toolbox,
pushed the seat back and told me to get in.  My mom had come out on the
back porch and we both waved at her as we backed out of the driveway.  Then
it happened again.  I wondered what she would have thought if she knew her
little 13 year old daughter was going to get fucked silly for the 10th time
in 5 days.  Mr.  Sanders didn't let me ponder very long.  As soon as we
were on the street he asked me if I had brought it.  When I told him that I
had he looked at me and said,

   "I knew you would you little slut.  You want to be seen in it don't
you?"

   I knew that I did.  The exhibitionist in me was begging to, but I
couldn't admit it at first.  Mr.  Sanders wasn't about to put up with my
denial, he reached across the seat, grabbed my pigtail and forced me to
look at him,

   "Don't you?!"

   "Yes sir."

   "Then put it on now.  I want to see what you look like in it."

   "Now?  Right here in the truck.  What if somebody sees me?"

   "Yes, right here in the truck.  What part of `now' don't you understand?
Besides you just told me that you want to be seen it.  I bet those little
panties of yours are soaked right now just from thinking about everyone
staring at your hard nips and camel-toe all day.  Aren't they?"

   I was never able to lie to him.  Just like my mom he was always able to
tell.  I didn't even try.

   "Yes sir."

   I unbuckled my seat belt, turned around and reached over the back of the
seat.  The thought of stripping in the front of the cab where someone might
see me had me crazy hot.  I pulled the suit out of the pack and sat back
down.  Mr.  Sanders was giving me one of his nasty grins as I took off my
t-shirt and bra.  But when I went to take off my cut-offs and my panties
started to roll down with them he stopped me and told me to pull them back
up.  As soon as I dropped my shorts on the floor he told me to turn around
sideways, and face him with my left leg on the seat and my right one on the
floor.  My panties were soaked half way up to the waist band.  He looked at
me and smiled.

   He made me stay that way until we got out onto Brooks Street.  When we
got to Southgate Mall he pulled in, drove all the way around the mall and
parked as close as he could get to Dillard's.  I was sure that at least a
few people had seen my naked shoulders and assumed that my breasts were
uncovered too.  My panties showed it as the wet spot grew.  When he turned
the motor off he told me to reach over the seat behind him and get his
camera.

   For the second time that morning I had to turn around and reach over the
back of the seat, only this time I had to crawl over next to him.  And
instead of being easy to get to like my backpack was, his camera was on the
floor.  By the time I could lean over far enough to reach it my waist was
on the top of the seat, my knees were hanging in space and his thumb was
rubbing my clit.  He told me to spread my legs and as best as I as I could
I pressed my feet against the bench seat and opened up for him.  One of his
fingers slid through my leg hole rubbing my slit as his thumb pressed down
harder.  I felt my lips open up on his finger and started to gush.

   "Don't you dare cum, Candy."

   I groaned.  I knew he heard it when he laughed at me for it.  He had me
right on the edge and he knew it.

   "There are 3 High School boys and one of their girlfriends watching you
right now."

   That was all it took.  Knowing that they were staring at me, dangling
over the seat with my legs spread wide open in a pair of soaked panties
rocketed me onto my `plateau' and I exploded all over his hand.  My lips
opened up and gush after gush of my goo flowed out of me, soaking my
panties even more, leaking around the gusset and down my thighs.  I felt so
humiliated knowing they were watching me cum in front of them that I
couldn't stop.  I was squirming all over the back of the seat desperately
trying to get away from his thumb and forefinger.  He kept pinching my clit
as the boys outside laughed and shouted at me.  The three guys came right
up to the window on my side.  They kept calling me a slut and telling me
what they would like to do to me.

   He finally pulled his hand away and started the truck, ordering me not
to move.  When we stopped again we were at the far end of the parking lot.
He reached up and started rubbing my clit, driving me crazy and taking me
right up to the edge again.  I thought he was going to make me cum on his
fingers but instead he said,

   "Now get my camera, slut.  Just the camera, I don't need the bag."

   I know he said that on purpose so he could keep his thumb on my clit as
I struggled to unzip the case.  I got it free, turned around and handed it
to him, but I couldn't look him in the eye.  I knew what he wanted.  He
didn't have to tell me.  I crawled back over to the door; put my left leg
up on the seat and my right one on the floor.

   "Look at your panties now, Candy."

   I did, but I wasn't surprised by what I saw.  My little white panties
were transparent, soaked all the way up to the waist band, my slit and clit
as visible as if I was naked.  He took 3 pictures of it close up and then
sat back against his door.

   "Look at me, Candy and tell me why you are here."

   I remember thinking, `Oh god.  He was going to make me say it again.'
Even though it was just a camera and not his video camera I knew what he
wanted.  He wanted to capture the embarrassment and humiliation that would
cross my face as I said those words to him.  I think he made me say it at
least 5 times and each time that I reached the word "slut" the camera would
go off and I would climb higher.  The last time I said it I came in front
of him, gushing all over my panties and the seat.  He never even touched
me.

   "That's 2 times that you have cum without permission, Candy!  You know
what that means."

   "Yes, Sir."

   "What?"

   "It means I'm going to get spanked."

   "Yes, Candy.  It does.  Now turn around and put your seat belt on, pull
those wet panties down past your knees, spread your legs and put 2 fingers
into your slut hole."

   I knew he was just doing it to torment me.  Somehow having my panties
around my knees made me feel even more exposed than if I had been
completely nude.  I knew what he was telling me too.  A girl driving around
town naked is a slut.  A slut driving around town with her sopping wet
panties around her knees is pathetic.  He knew what I was telling him too
when I pushed my fingers in.  He knew that no matter how much he degraded
me I would always want more.  I remember that we both turned and looked at
each other when we came to the stop light at Reserve St.  He smirked at me.
I whimpered, begging him with my eyes to let me cum.  He told me `No' with
his grin.

   We turned on Reserve and drove up to his storage place.  I remember that
it said `Toy Storage' on the sign.  As we drove in all of the lockups had
huge doors like a 2 car garage.  We backed up to his lockup and he got out
and opened it up.  Inside were his `toys'.  On one side was his ski boat.
On the other was his Mustang.

   "You can help, slut.  Get those panties off, walk around the back of the
truck and tell me when I am getting close to the trailer."

   I didn't want to argue.  I pulled them down, feeling less and less
degraded as they slid down my legs until I could pull them all the way off
and drop them next to the rest of my clothes.  I put my flip-flops on,
opened the door and got out.  Feeling the same exhilaration I always felt
when he would make me meet him somewhere in the middle of the night or send
me home without my clothes.  Naked was fun.  Wet panties weren't.  (At
least not then.  before the year was out wet panties were fun too.) My feet
had barely touched the floor when I heard him swear,

   "What the fuck, Candy, look what you did to my truck!"

   I didn't have to turn around to know what he was talking about.  I had
been sitting on it ever since we left the mall.  I just didn't know how big
it was.  His truck was older then I was and had plenty of stains, but I
knew that the dinner plate sized wet spot I had been sitting on was going
to leave one 3 times as big as the rest of them.

   "Monday afternoon when I get home you are going to come over and scrub
that out.  And from now on you sit on a towel."

   My moment of exhilaration was over.  I walked around the back of his
truck and guided him up to the trailer.  When he got it attached he
followed me back to the passenger door.  I knew what was coming.  As bad as
it sounds I wanted what was coming.

   "Give me one of your sandals, Candy.  Rich told me how much you liked
getting spanked with them"

   As always the heat and the sting went straight to my clit.  2 spanks
into the second 13 I came so hard that it made him laugh.  When he was
through he dropped it onto my wet panties and told me to put my t-shirt on
the seat.

   "I don't want that wet spot getting any bigger than it already is."

   As I laid it over the seat I heard him unzip behind me.  God, I wanted
him in me so bad.  I always did after he would spank me but after
everything he had put me through that day I would have let every friend he
had do me if he had told me to.  Plus, standing naked in that storage bay
with cars driving by didn't exactly do anything to calm me down.  I knew
they couldn't see me with the door open like that but they could see my
legs with Mr.  Sanders standing right behind them and would know what he
was doing to me.  The thought of them laughing at me as they drove by had
me creaming on him as soon as he pushed into me.  Sure enough, just as he
was getting his rhythm going a car or truck did drive by.  Then I heard it
stop and back up,

   "Way to go dude, give the slut a poke for me."

   I felt his right hand leave my hip and I imagine it was so he could wave
to them.  The sound of their laughter made me cream even harder.  Well,
that and the fact that when he put his hand back on my hip he really
started to give it to me.  I don't think he was in me for more than a
couple of minutes when he started with the whole, `why are you here?' thing
again.  What did he think I was going to say?  He was already fucking me.
Of course I wanted him to fuck me.  It was the best feeling in the world!
But I knew he wanted to hear it so I told him.

   The fifth time he made me repeat it he pulled my hips back against him,
banging the head of his cock right up against my cervix.  I felt him swell
up and then he exploded into me.  There was so much of it in me that as
soon he pulled out I could feel it start to leak down my thighs.  He gave
me one last spank, zipped up and then said,

   "God, I love fucking your tight little cunt.  Now, get back in the truck
or we're going to be late."

   I know it probably sounds crazy but I loved it when he would say things
like that to me.  It always made me feel good.  The whole love/lust thing
was so confusing and when he would do that after fucking me I felt like I
wasn't just a slut to him but that he cared for me too.  I was glad that I
had a `tight little cunt' to give to him.

   We went back down Reserve to Brooks and turned right.  When we got past
the Walmart he looked over at me,

   "If I were you, Candy I would start scooping all of that cum out of your
slutty little twat or it's going to be leaking into your suit all day. 
From what Rich told me it doesn't hide much when it gets wet."

   I knew he was right.  It was one thing for Mr.  Bailey and Mr.  Howard
to be able to see through my suit but I wasn't sure if I wanted hundreds of
strangers to.  I remember that at first I tried sliding down on the seat
until I was right on the edge.  I had just scooped the first glob out and
was sucking it off of my fingers when he looked over at me,

   "You are never going to get it all out that way.  Get up on your knees
and spread them apart."

   My first thought was `oh my god'.  If I had been any taller you could
have seen my belly button.  As it was my belly button was the least of my
worries.  Even at 5' the bottom of the window was easily low enough to
ensure that my breasts would be on display.  For the most part he stayed in
the right hand lane.  He couldn't drive very fast pulling the trailer but
every once in a while we would come up behind a slower car and I would
start to cringe.  Even though we were going faster there was still plenty
of time for them to get a good look.

   I remember that the first couple cars were old people and the drivers
just stared at me as we went by.  But then we came up behind another
pick-up that was pulling one of those long house trailers.  He deliberately
slowed for that one and when we got right up next to the driver he slowed
down even more, so that we doing the same speed.  Then he honked his horn.
The driver looked over at me and grinned.  And the weird thing is I didn't
turn away.  My pussy started juicing and I knew that I wanted him to see
me. I smiled back at him and when I did he honked his horn back at us. 
When I turned back to look at Mr.  Sanders he was grinning at me.

   "That made you wet didn't it, Candy?"

   "Yes."

   "So not only are you `a nasty little 13 year old slut' that will fuck
anyone I tell you to but you're an exhibitionist too.  I'm going to have to
see what I can do to help you with that."

   His grin had changed into a leer and I knew that I was in trouble.

   "Have you got all of my cum out of you yet?"

   "I think so."

   "Well just in case keep 2 of your fingers in there"

   We didn't pass anyone else until we got to the stop light in Lolo.  We
pulled up next to another pick-up with a bunch of camping gear in the back.
The two guys in it were a lot younger than the guy pulling the house
trailer.  They looked a lot like the High School boys that had called me a
slut earlier in the summer.  They certainly acted like it.  They paced us
all the way through town calling me a slut and asking me if I liked getting
fucked.  I tried to keep staring straight ahead but Mr.  Sanders ordered me
to look at them and tell them the truth.  So I did.  They loved that and
started laughing at me and calling me a slut again.  Then the one in the
passenger seat leaned over and asked me if I wanted go up to Jerry Johnson
with them and get fucked by all of their friends.  Mr.  Sanders had told me
to tell the truth,

   "Yes, I would.  But I can't today."

   They really started yelling at me when I said that but by then we were
at the edge of town.  They shouted `SLUT' at me one last time and turned
right.  As they pulled away I remember wondering what they would have
called me if they had known I had 2 fingers in me the whole time.  Mr. 
Sanders was right.  I loved the attention.  Being called a slut like that
by guys I didn't even know had me dripping.  When I turned around he was
grinning at me again.

   "God, you are really something else, Candy.  Now dry yourself off with
that t-shirt if you can find a dry spot and get your suit on.  It's 2 lanes
the rest of the way so you won't get to show anybody those hot little tits
of yours anyway.  And besides, I still want to see what you look like in
it."

   I dried myself off and then put on my little blue suit.  I knew what he
would want so when I put the bottoms on I pulled them up as snug as I
could. He made me turn around and face him with one leg up on the seat
again.  Somehow, with him leering at me it felt even smaller and I could
feel myself getting wet again.  I felt it, but he could see it.

   "Unfuckin believable!  You're getting a wet spot just from me looking at
your slutty cunt.  Your t-shirt is already a mess.  Did you bring anything
else to wear?"

   "Just my sweatshirt and sweatpants."

   "Well than get your sweatshirt out and stick the arm of it down your
pants or I won't be able to let you out of the truck when we get there."

   So I rode the rest of the way to Stevensville with the sleeve of my
sweatshirt stuffed in my bottoms and feeling ridiculous.

   The car show was at a ranch on the outskirts of town on the way to
Corvallis.  The owner of the ranch had set aside a big pasture for all of
the show cars and a second one for public parking.  They were collecting
$10 per person at the opening in the rail fence.  Half of it was for the 2
Clubs that organized the show and the other half was being donated to some
charity.  I think it was the Ravalli County Food Bank but I'm not sure.

   People were still setting up when we got there but we were kind of late.
We drove down to the last row of cars and Mr.  Sanders drove the Mustang
off of the trailer and parked it next to this tent/ awning kind of thing
that was open in the front.  There were quite a few of them.  A lot of
people used them to keep the sun off of their cars and to display pictures
of how they restored them.  Then we drove over and parked next to all of
the other trucks and trailers at the far end of the field.  When we got out
he pulled a small cooler and a manila envelope out from behind his seat and
gave them to me.  As we walked back to the Mustang he explained that his
flyers were inside the envelope and when anyone came by to look at his car
I was to give them one.  Then he looked down at me and grinned,

   "You are going to have to pull that thing out of juicy little slit once
in a while or you are going to get yourself arrested.  And if anybody asks,
you're my niece and you are visiting me while you parents are on a vacation
cruise to Alaska.  If they persist tell them you are from Sunnyvale,
California.  Most people hate Californians so that should put an end to it.
Can you remember all that?"

   I nodded my head but I remember that I giggled a little as one of those
crazy thoughts went through my brain.  What did he think I was going to
tell them?  That I was the little bimbo from next door and he was fucking
me silly every chance he got?

   When we got back to the car he opened both doors, turned off the dome
light and then opened the hood and the trunk.  He took the envelope from me
and laid it on the driver's seat.  He had a big picture frame in the trunk
that he stood up.  It had all of his restoration pictures inside the glass
and I remember wondering how long he had been working on it when the guy
from the tent next door walked up.  I was looking at the pictures and
paying only half attention as he joked with my `Uncle' about making sure
that his car won `Best of Show', and Mr.  Sanders telling him to just
`leave the money on the dash'.  He brought me back to earth,

   "Candice, this is Mr.  Petro.  Ralph, this is my niece, Candice.  Candy
is visiting me for a couple of weeks while her folks are on vacation."

   Mr.  Petro was this fat balding little man with red cheeks and a sweaty
face.  His eyes were really small and kind of close together, like a rat's
or something.  To this day I still think of him as the creepiest man I have
ever met.  He sure creeped me out that day.  I learned later that they were
just acquaintances from the car shows, but at the time that I met him I
thought they were friends and remember thinking `please, please, please
don't let this guy touch me.' When he looked at me his eyes went straight
to my breasts and then moved down and stayed there.  With all of the
commotion of getting the car ready I had forgotten to take Mr.  Sanders'
advice and I knew what he was staring at.  So I pretended to be `clueless'
as he finally looked up at me and leered,

   "Candy, huh, well aren't you just the cutest little thing this side of
the Divide."

   Then he looked down at my `divide' again and sniggered at his own joke.
He reminded Mr.  Sanders about voting his car `Best of Show' and went back
to his tent.  I swear I saw him adjust his pants as he walked away from us.
I remember looking back up at my `Uncle' with this kind of sick look on my
face,

   "Don't worry about Ralph, he's harmless.  Besides he knows I'd beat him
bloody if he ever laid a finger on you.  But it's your own fault.  I warned
you to pull that suit out of your `divide' every now and then or you would
get in trouble.  You have to admit, that was pretty funny."

   With an honest smile on his face he leaned over and for the very first
time gave me a kiss on my forehead and told me that he would be back in a
couple of hours.  He told me NOT to leave the car.  He said I could sit in
it to get out of the sun but NOT to leave it.  Then he pulled 2 water
bottles out of the cooler in the trunk, gave one to me and walked off
towards the Judges table.