Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. TWO NUDES by Holly Rennick AUTHOR'S NOTES Defining pornography as "failed erotic art" may work for literature, as some of us nobly-intentioned authors can't write. But the distinction fails with photography. Porno pics are purposefully putrid. "PPPP," to help you remember. A naked lady preens as a schoolgirl (the pigtails) or as a room-by-the-hour motel hooker (the teased hair) or as a stiff contortionist (the posed entries). The photographer masturbates with his free hand. If you do, too, he did his job. So can a picture of a nude be non-pornographic? Go to any art museum. The side-by-side nudes at http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/Holly_Rennick/2Nudes.jpg are as sensual in the shower as on the satin. The photographer's captured what's God-given. This story is about these two nudes, so keep the picture handy. And men, this story's not a rant about gender. We've all made porn the Internet's biggest profiteer. Download what we commissioned get infested with worms and viruses. Then look at the two nudes. You know the difference, guys, same us. TWO NUDES Kenny makes me sick! My brother leaves the browser pointed to "My Pictures" where he's hidden all this crap! Britney Spears' silicone tits. Black studs gangbanging a white babe. A bleached 40-year-old spreading her bald crack. A redhead with cum on her chin. Chicks dildoing chicks. A college boy butt-fucking a co-ed. The friend who watches holds a drink. The dumb-ass! Maybe boys in my class think naked women are hot, but Kenny's two years older, a senior. He should be figuring out sex in the back seat of his car, not wagging his dick at websites for losers. I'm egalitarian. That means that I think men and women are exactly equal. We're studying it in English. A girl wouldn't download this crap! Tell Mom? She's too old to know about the Internet. She'll just take away our computer. Tell Kenny to his face? I have to live with the jerk, him knowing I know he's sick. Just ignore it so I don't have to deal with it. I don't know. So that's what I'm doing. ***** Roland stole me the program off the school server. He's smarter than the vice principal who loaded it to track use of the Pod. They block it, you copy it, I tell Roland and give him a little kiss. He's a total geek and I want to marry him someday. The jocks will all end up selling software for Roland and everybody knows that geeks make great lovers by age thirty. I hope Roland tells all his friends about the kiss. Roland's sister Deanne is in Kenny's grade. She's sorta like her little brother. I know her because she's in my PE. She has to take PE as a senior 'cause she always chose things like calculus. She's pale like Roland, despite taking PE. Deanne's plenty pretty, though, even with her hair always in a braid, so nobody calls her a geek. Deanne's how I get the goods on Roland, like how he sold his baseball cards when the market was high. I think Kenny kept his. Girls at school know lots about girls at school and everybody knows that Deanne doesn't fuck. She kisses them at the doorstep and goes inside. Smart girl, even for a geek. Roland doesn't even know he's my almost-boyfriend, unless, of course, he exactly knows and isn't telling me that I'm his almost-girlfriend. It's hard to out-psych a geek who's smarter than the vice principal. It's better not to sweat it, 'cause he's got it figured out. Of course, I'm not a total woos. Roland might think I can't tell what he's up to, but I know exactly how many times he's bumped me when he's showing me his computer. Thirty-one, scoring one brush against both sides as two. Even a smart geek can't hide all his geekness. I like to ask him questions about the screen-saver and things. Did I say, "What he's up to?" Why hush my mouth! I can only pretend, but it's fun to think about. Mom says that teen years are complicated. She's right. ***** Kenny keeps the computer screen turned so I can't see and always clicks the mouse when I barge into the den. No problemo por esta chica! (I'm taking Spanish I.) The program Roland got me shows the crap Kenny's been surfing. I hope Kenny's not a queer, 'cause I'll know if he goes back to those ones about policemen doing blowjobs. Roland's program doesn't just list the history; it times it, even. Sure as shootin', I can tell how long it takes Kenny to jack off by how many minutes the longest one's on the screen. I'm sure that's what he's doing when he shuts his sorry ass in the den. ***** I can't believe it! Maybe 15 seconds to download some guy eating out a cheerleader and then maybe a 3-second look and then it's trashed. (The Recycle Bin is one thing Roland's program outfoxes.) Kenny dawdles on the chick celebrities that deep-throat each other at the awards ceremonies, but I'm curious about them, too. Kenny likes normal girls. Alexandra Kerry's tits are nice, but her face is a mess. Suppose they'd photograph mine if my Dad ran for President and I was a little older? No gay sites, thank God! But there are two pictures that have me so curious. Two different nudes, maybe in their twenties, taking showers. It's really hard to tell ages, though. Frontal, but not like they're hawking something. I know the pop singers and these two aren't famous. No tattoos, pierced nipples, crap like that. Both girls are looking at their tits. Kenny looks at these two nudes 'most every night before he goes to bed. One of the nudes is by a shower wall. Yellow tiles. She's wearing a gold necklace. Her hair's pushed up, but a strand's fallen on her front. She's pretty light, no tan at all. She's shaved her pubs, but some's grown back. She's so regular. The other girl, the thinner one, is hosing herself in her backyard. You can tell by the fence. Her tan line shows how her bikini fits. She's got wet hair across her collarbone. Her tits are smaller than the other's, more pronounced. She's got a rectangle of hair. Maybe she's Latin, 'cause she's darker. Maybe she took the hose out of the water drum. You just see the side of it. This picture looks like maybe it was taken with a regular camera. I think of the two nudes next day during Geography, fourth period. Maybe the first one's imagining making love. Maybe the second one's going inside to get lunch, then make love. Maybe my mind thinks a little more like the first, but I look a little more like the second. I'm kind of a combination. I always look at the two pictures after I come home from school. Kenny has cross-country and Mom thinks I'm doing homework. I can always just click if she looks in. The first nude's boobs look soft; the second one's, hard. The second nude has the darker nipples; the first's ones are less popped out. Sometimes I touch my own. In the bathroom, I stand against the wall until Kenny bangs, hurry up. I go to backyard and water the violets. I like those two girls. My body's not like theirs because I'm not that pretty. My boobs aren't round and they aren't so ready. My hair down there's just a black tuft, not taken care of. I think about the hair between their legs. One I can see; the other, just imagine. Am I a lesbian? Maybe. I'd never let some asshole take my picture. I'll let some guy see me naked some day, though. I like to pretend that I'm Roland and the girls are me. I giggle. But, naah. Roland would get nervous. ***** Kenny looks at the pictures after supper. I hang out by the door where he's shut himself in and hear the chair backrest go squeak-squeak. Kenny masturbates to the two nudes, same as me. I guess Kenny and I like the same things, 'cause every afternoon and every evening the program shows how much they're on. If I opened the door, I bet I'd catch him with his hand in his pants. The dumb-ass will be trying to pull his hand out, click the mouse and focus his eyes. And I'd just eat it up, pretend to be fooled, not miss anything. But I don't interrupt his time with the two nudes. It's his time. I wonder if coming feels the same to him as it does to me. We're different, but we're the same. I know I'm not a lesbian. The two girls help me, like sisters might, imagine a boyfriend. The first girl has just made love on her bed and her room looks like mine. The second girl made love beside the lake. Me and Kenny and Mom go to the lake every summer and stay at her brother Carlos' cabin. He taught Kenny about art, and me, how to ride a motor scooter. I say, "made love" 'cause I think that's what it's about. But maybe these girls have many lovers. ***** The backrest squeaks, but Mom can't hear in the kitchen. I let my rubbing go on and on, slipping up my bra so I can look down like the two girls. Can you come just touching your tits? I think maybe so, but don't know how. Kenny watches the picture for longer than I do, but I don't know how much is after he comes. I wonder if Kenny sometimes wakes up in the middle of the night and thinks of the pictures? Maybe we come at the same time, just a room apart. Whenever I get up to pee, I listen The chance of my going to his door when he's jacking off must be really small, but I've heard. The space under his door is wide enough. My girlfriends say it's easy to prove. Look at their PJs in the laundry. Their bed sheet if they're stupid. A sock stashed under his mattress. But, naah. The nudes wouldn't spy. My friends say that boys can tell about us by smelling our panties. Kenny isn't that gross, but I make sure and put mine straight in the washer. Almost all my girlfriends have pictures so similar, even the girls who have lots of boyfriends. Who wants pictures of a dick? Sometimes we even show each other our boobs, 'cause it's good to be proud. ***** I don't even know Kenny's still in the den. I'd left my Geometry book somewhere, maybe there, and we have a quiz tomorrow on Chapter 8. I hope that's all it's on, anyway. I open the door and there's my book exactly where I left it, and my brother's asleep in the computer chair. Dummy! I walk across the rug to grab my book from under his crap. The rug was braided by Grandma Katie, Mom's mom. I'm not even looking at the computer screen of fish chasing fish, but I guess I make a noise because Kenny starts and jiggles something and the nude girl appears, the girl by the tile wall. And Kenny's awake, confused, trying to get his hand out of his pants (no surprise, but I never thought I'd catch him), trying to click the mouse on the little x. But, shit-fire! He clicks and behind it is the other girl, the one showering outside. Then she's gone and there's a whore in a red convertible. He kills her and there's a giant dick going in and out of a pussy, some sort of animation. He gets the screen cleared, flustered and silent. "What the hell?" I can't pretend I'm blind. "It's nothing," pretty lame. "You're looking at that crap?" "I'm fucked," he admits, looking at the wall. "You're sure as shootin' fucked, idiot!" Kenny looks at me, worried. "You gonna get me grounded?" He deserves it, looking at animated fucking. But, naah. He's my brother. Knowing he'll owe me big, he ventures, "I'm not really this shitty." I more or less know he's not, but don't say so. My brother may be an asshole, but he's not shitty. "Kenny?" He looks away. "What was that first one?" "Just some shit." He wants me to bug off. "No, the girl and the one after?" He looks at me. "The two girls washing." I push. "Where'd you get them?" "There's a million sites." "They're pretty," I tell him. "They're just girls." Damn it asshole, they're not "just girls". "Liar." He looks scared at my accusation. "You look at them all the time." Something about how I say it tells him I know. "I'm fucked," realizing he doesn't have a clue what I know. I don't want to explain about Roland's program, but Kenny doesn't ask for details. "No you're not. You're just a creep," I resolve. Then something hits me. I don't know why I say it, but maybe so he won't feel so crappy. "I look at them, too." He's surprised, like how could I? And maybe I'm not so little. "So how come you look at naked girls? You're not, you know..." "Dream on, asshole. I like how they look." "Look?" "Like real girls, not, you know, like..." "...like the other pictures," he finishes my thought. "They look like themselves," I decide. He sits in silence. "I'll erase it, OK?" he decides. "The crap," I agree. He nods. "Kenny," I pause. "Get them back, now I mean, the two girls." He wavers a moment, then brings them to the screen, one, then the other. "You think they're sexy?" I'm curious. "Sure." He looks some more. "But maybe ones you'd like even if you don't go to bed?" "Sorta, I guess," he admits. I look at him. You don't usually talk to your brother. "You been laid?" I'm pretty sure I know the answer. If he bullshits me, maybe I will tell Mom. "Shit no." I barely hear. I elbow his shoulder. "Didn't think so. Know what? You're sure as shootin' my brother." He's confused. "Honest to God, asshole. You're the best they make," giving him another shove till he manages his grin. "Hey pervert," he challenges. "You got your cherry?" That's none of his business. I raise my chin to look offended. "We'll I'm not a senior." He laughs and so do I and he logs off. "Kenny, maybe you and me sneak a peak tomorrow?" "I told you you're a lezzy," and whacks my butt. "Gay boy!" He knows I don't think so. At my door, my brother pinches my arm, "You're cool." "And you're the perv," slipping into my room like an owl. ***** After Kenny scrapes dinner plates and I load the washer, we rendezvous. If Mom looks in, I have my book. The stupid exam included part of Chapter 9, but our teacher says we can throw out our lowest score. I sit and he stands, since it might look like we're playing a computer game if we have two chairs at the keyboard. We put the two nudes like they're seeing each other. It takes time to think about them. The first one hardly needs to shower. The second one's by an old fence and the grass isn't cut. She's little more experienced. "OK Kenny, I'm done," after a minute. "You goin'?" as if Kenny doesn't think I'm done. "You can keep looking." I don't mean it that way, but he sees that I know. Maybe he thinks I saw when I came in yesterday. Doesn't matter how I know, I guess. He turns crimson, almost worth having played my card. "Sometimes, I guess." At least he doesn't lie. "It's natural," I try to drop the subject. But maybe my own blush gives him a comeback. "How 'bout you, lezzy girl?" "Me?" "When you look at them?" I flash a grin. "Afterwards, asshole," and skip out. I don't give a hoot if he knows. I'm not a little kid. ***** We meet the next night after homework and whisper while we look. "Which you like best, Kenny?" "Eat your heart out, Miss Pointy," and reaches to pop one of mine through my tee-shirt. I don't know if he thought I had my bra on. Then he feels bad for hurting my feelings. "I like the skinny one best 'cause she's how you're gonna be if you don't get fat." I'll never get fat. It doesn't run in the family. "Pervert!" I complain, twisting away, but not too fast. Mom's down in the living room and when he pops me again, I don't move. Nobody's ever felt me up 'cept Roland. When I don't escape, Kenny does the other one too. "Pervert," I complain, pleased as punch. "Runs in the family," he whispers, pulling me closer. I grin back and he pats his lap. When I stick out my tongue, he pulls me down. "Let me go, weirdo!" I protest, wiggling until he locks his forearm across my chest. With his other hand, he gooses me through my shorts. I squirm again as he gets between my thighs but I raise my hips against his palm. (Actually, it's not really "goosing", not like we used to do. He's paying more attention and so am I. This way takes more time.) When I'm still, he drops his lock, tugs my shirt up under my arms and lifts both my tits. "Think about the girls," he suggests, drawing his fingers against my nipples. I look at the nude who's in the backyard, the one whose nipples are out and I can tell Kenny likes mine. He rubs down my stomach, his creepy thumb on my skin and his little finger against the top of my pants. I keep looking at the picture as he moves over my shorts. Does he know how close his little finger is to my crack, where I come together? I suppose the fabric makes it hard for him to tell. If I lean back too far, we'll tip over the stupid computer chair. His cock's under my butt, but I pretend to not notice. Lots of my girlfriends have felt cocks, but just the girls with regular boyfriends. Kenny's is just a bump and I wouldn't know it was anything, 'cept for where it is. I like how it fits against me. He uses both hands to open my button and pushes off my shorts. I'm glad I have on pretty panties. "Don't," I decide, but don't close my knees when he starts stroking. It's different than being goosed because you know he can tell where he is. He can sure as shootin' feel my hair through my panties. I watch the computer while his hand works the cotton inward where I'm wet. I'm the nude with her hair up. We can both see her crack. Kenny's really hard now. He draws his thumbs to either side to pull open my panties. I let him. We can both see. I wish I had more hair, but what I have is OK. We watch his finger test the front of my crack. Once his fingertip gets between me, he'll slide. "You wanna come?" he asks. As if I'd tell him! "What a perv!" I challenge, not wanting to admit anything, and slip off his lap. ***** We can hardly wait till Mom's watching TV the next night. I doubt my tits feel as soft as the girl by the yellow tile, but even if they're more pointy, Kenny likes them. Because I want him to see how my nips are out, I turn on the chair to face him. Even in his jeans, he pokes between my legs. He doesn't try to get away when I can't hold back and drop my hand to his pocket. He doesn't stop me when I find his fly and start to rub up and down. His cock feels fatter between my fingers than it felt pushing me. Roland would be nowhere near this easy, I figure, to get to third base with. Like first and second base. Maybe I should be looking around for a better boyfriend. But, naah. Everybody knows that geeks try to catch up by going for a home run. "This way?" I ask and Kenny nods. When your brother asks if you want to come, it means that he wants to. I keep rubbing along his fly while he looks over my shoulder at the two nudes. I don't even know what I'm doing, but it doesn't matter. How we squeak the chair tells me we're the same. "You sure?" But actually, I don't care what he thinks. I'm going to make him come, right where I can watch his goofy face. It's good to already know about him jacking off. I know just from his breathing. I kiss him as he shoots in his pants. I've kissed him a million times before, but not when he's coming. For never having really kissed anyone and never having made anybody come, I'm really good. Maybe the two nudes over my shoulder didn't make love, I decide. They made their lovers come in their pants. Kenny's not my lover, for crap's sake, but it's almost the same. Kenny sits very still afterwards and I tell him it was fun for me, too. It was. If he were my boyfriend, maybe I'd be pissed to be left out, but I'm not mad at my brother. When I made him come, his cheeks got red and his eyes closed. In bed after I bring myself to orgasm, I decide we shouldn't screw 'cause we're related. He'll respect my opinion because we're both egalitarians. He'll want me to make him come, though. My come was really nice. We like each other a lot, me and Kenny. If he weren't my brother, I'd have two boyfriends. ***** As Mom drives off for Saturday shopping, we boot the computer and turn it toward the rug. Mom will be gone till after lunch. She figures we're going to watch TV and get bored and find something better to do. Moms probably don't think much about their kids' Saturdays. The two of us are still barefoot. I take off Kenny's shirt and jeans. His belt's the type that hooks. I've put on my bra, though I'm not sure why, since I don't need one. Mom doesn't need one either, but her nipples are a giveaway. I could sure as shootin' come on Kenny's lap, but want it to be like the two girls would want, not balanced on him on a chair with rollers. Kenny wants to make out on one of our beds, but going to bed means something different. I want to be where we have the pictures. We wrestle around a bit while he gets me down to my panties and then lie side-by-side on the rug. I reach my left hand under my elastic. Kenny's hand is on the outside to learn. His other hand's already got my right tit and my wrist crosses his to rub my other nipple. Kenny palm's against my pubes and he can feel my little motions, up and down. When he slips into my panties to feel better, I guide his fingertip to take up the job. I don't say anything, but he's doing good, so I pull out my own hand so he can be in charge. I reach in his underpants, white, the only color he owns. The size of his cock I know. The hardness. But not that it's wet. When I start pumping, he gasps. I can cream Kenny here and now, but want to watch it happen, so push his shorts below his butt. His cock's darker than the skin around it and he's like an acorn on top. He's got more hair than me, but the same black. His balls look like in our Modern Health book. His hard-on's the flagpole and I'm the little monkey going up and down. His hips save the monkey doing much work. I watch his face to see if I'm doing anything wrong, but must not be. I'm already feeling the tingling that I know how to make last, but Kenny will sure as shootin' rush me and I don't care. When I'm almost ready, he slips a finger inside me and I squeeze back. Can he feel it? All the time, we're rubbing my tits, him my right, me my left. I jerk him until his cum squirts across my middle, some even onto my tits. I didn't know it's oily. Kenny's finger makes me leave my stain on Grandma Katie's rug, but it blends in. Mom won't notice, but I know exactly where. My cherry's just the stain, already drying in the braiding. Wish to shit I'd come. ***** That week we make each other come every night in the computer room. Sometime we get on the rug, but other times it gets going too quick while we're still on the chair. ***** Screwing we leave unplanned. We have all the time in the world. We're facing together on Grandma's rug next Saturday, just rubbing together so that he'll come against my mound. It's messy, but great. Getting pushed in the front can make me come. I'm not going for more and I'm pretty sure neither is he. But when his tip pops in, he pushes me onto my back so I can't get away. For being surprised, I'm plenty primed. The two of us lie still for maybe a moment and then he starts to work it in, not asking or anything. I don't do much because it's not that comfortable, but it's still neat when you think of what it is. After he's in all the way, we figure out the length and speed of our strokes. I'm very good at this sort of thing for being a virgin. It didn't really hurt or anything. We roll over each other, one side of the rug to the other, whoever's on top doing the fucking. We keep rolling side to side even while we come. His eyes are closed, but not mine. When he finally slips out, I flop it around, but it stays soft and squirmy. We're both wet with each other and I use his undies to dry us off. "You were right, Kenny," I tease. "'Bout what?" "You're fucked." ***** I like Saturdays best, 'cause Mom's shopping always takes longer than she plans. Way longer, sometimes. After I undress and Kenny gets it on, I let macho-man kneel between my legs, juicing up his cock for a big ole' shove. I just hold my knees and squeal like it's so bad-ass. Actually, even bad-fast, it's still super fun. Or he's back-assed flatwards and I'm on top. My girlfriends say this is a good one, and I agree. Hardly touch anything but his cock and make him wait a shit-load lot longer than he ever does by himself. It makes things happen in me that I'd never figured out on my own. There are tons of ways to screw and some of the ones on the porn sites are legit. Egalitarians take turns. I just don't wear eye-shadow like I'm old or my St. Bernadette School plaid skirt like I'm little. I'm exactly me. ***** I suppose the school nurse figures I'm fucking Roland, since he's who I hang out with, but she can't ask names. She's probably surprised, since Roland's in the Honor Society and wins big-time scholarships (that he can spend on whatever) at science fairs. . Not that Mom's the suspicious type, but it's better to visit the nurse. A box of White Knights and our little chat about knowing my partner's history. Mom says that when that time comes, she'll take me to her doctor for pills, but I'm sure as shootin' not telling her anything. They stayed virgins when Mom was a girl, hardly even went out till they got to college. Maybe I'll get Deanne to make Roland ask me out, even if it's just to an awards banquet. Deanne can ask Kenny and we'll double. Sure as shootin' I know Kenny's. ***** Kenny and I make love 'cause we're each other's girlfriend/boyfriend for now. It's easy because how close our rooms are, but we always use mine 'cause of the crack under his door. Saturday mornings, the two nudes can watch. In bed, we last longer. On the rug, we're pretty good. In the computer chair, we get to laughing. We've done it in the shower, my butt against the tile. If it's warm outside, we squirt each other with the garden hose. Like in the picture, there's grass. ***** When Kenny photographs me, he's always dressed and very careful to never aim up my legs. He wants just glimpses of my hair. My tits are just right, he always says. I try to look natural, like he's not even there. Roland runs my website. High resolution for free. No expenses, as Roland loans Kenny his high-end camera and hosts us on the school's server, a virtual disk, he says. Computers at high schools are a piece of cake, according to my almost-boyfriend, 'cause every teacher wants specialized software. Roland's even made an image program to change just a smidgen of my face. If you know it's me, it's there, but your mind can get tricked. As I noted earlier, we'll all work for Roland someday. Roland doesn't know that Kenny and I sleep together. No reason to confuse Roland about his almost-girlfriend. My brother being my photographer doesn't seem odd to a geek. Kenny saw me naked when I was little, Roland notes. Who'd want his almost-girlfriend photographed by a rival? Don't bother to look for me on the shit sites. If they link without un-encryption (or some such geek word), Roland directs their site to www.fbi.gov. Right on, Roland! I give him another kiss. Look for me where amateurs post. Real amateurs. (Just don't Google amature+sex+pictures). No pop-ups. No stupid ads about penis enlargement. A few links about AIDS, rape prevention, abstinence, birth control, male and female development. I totally support abstinence for girls who want to wait. Fluff of black hair. Smallish tits. No eye contact unless I'm smiling at by brother. Is it erotic? Look for the hint of a story about a real girl. Kenny's a great photographer. OK, I'm not eighteen, but that's a technicality. ***** Remember Roland's sister Deanne? Maybe they're fooling everybody else, but not me. Look at the first of the two nudes who made me and Kenny fall in love, the girl by tile wall. It takes a trained eye, but reshape a few facial features. I take PE with Deanne. She shaved her pubes, but quit 'cause it's itchy. Look at the picture girl's belly button? Perfect match. Change the tile to beige; I've been in Deanne and Roland's upstairs bathroom. Roland didn't think to change the background, which I'm sure he could. Believe me -- I'm not telling my dumb-ass brother who's in his class. Kenny's the old-fashioned one-girl type. And I'll tell you this -- I'm sure as shootin' not spending the night at Deanne's if she asks me. She's no more lezzy than me, but I've spent so many hours looking at her that I'd make her fuck me. Wouldn't it be something, though, if I'd marry Roland and Kenny would marry Deanne? In that case, I'd go to bed with her. But, naah. Deanne won't ask me to spend the night 'cause I'm not a senior. An egalitarian expects her almost-boyfriend to share her standards. We're talking equality, not cowboy chauvinist vs. fuck-you feminist. I love my brother. So my almost-boyfriend can love his sister just the same. It's not like my almost-boyfriend's screwing my rival. AFTERTHOUGHT I'm looking at our vacation albums, the pictures of me and Kenny playing at Uncle Carlos's cabin by the lake. There's a cedar fence held together by two horizontal boards and diagonals. There's grass, but it's mowed. There's a water barrel you fill with a black hose. Mom used to have long hair and loved sitting on the dock. The nude in the second picture, the one outside, is facing down too much to show many features. But if you know, you know. Mom says she goes to Safeway, Saturday mornings, but when I look at the slip in the bag, she was there on Friday and left the stuff in the trunk overnight. The receipt even shows what kind of rubbers she likes, White Knights, same as me and Kenny use. But they're gone when I empty the grocery bag. Her brother Carlos lives about an hour the other way. Egalitarians are against ageism. No reason for Mom to know that I know, but now I know what to watch for. I could check her dashboard, I could check all sorts of things. But do I have to? Should I tell Kenny? But, naah. She's my mom. As Kenny says, I may sorta look like that second nude when I grow up. END HOLLY ON THE WEB Wherever you found this story on the web, thank you to the server. My problem is that I've no systematic way to update the various servers. As literary errors (or just poor word usages) are made known to me, I'll repair that which is salvageable on http://www.asstr.org/~Holly_Rennick/. My website's not much graphically, I admit, but HTML isn't my native language. You can contact me via the site's message form, that HTML code by the smart people at ASSTR. I won't be changing the story significantly, so if you didn't like it before, that much will remain the same. But if you did like it, an update may read a bit more cleanly. Holly