THE FUTURE IS OVER
Join a gang of teens as they survive in a world gone mad.
TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTThe Fading Universeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
Now available for downloading at ftp site: members.aol.com/nnd666
Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 71
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Desire Isle
Chapter Twelve
Rob became hard once more under the girls' inspired spanking, but
held back from delivering his hot poker into a vagina. Instead he had
Melanie and Candy re-fit their bras over their bulging bosoms. This in
itself would have made almost any man lose his self-control. What a
sight each girl was as she struggled to fit her own breasts within the
triangles of tiny fabric! But Rob just sat back, curled an arm around
Veronica's waist, and gently circled her clitoris with his finger. Veronica
shuddered, but made no move to urge Rob within her. Melanie, hands behind
her back as she wriggled her bosoms into her bra cups, at the same time
tying the bra at the rear, looked up. Her big eyes peered out from beneath
the fringe of her lemon locks. Melanie gave a firm tug and felt her bra
tighten. At the same moment, involuntarily, she ran her tongue over her
upper lip. That big penis, sooo close!
"I want it!" Melanie cried, and dove for Rob's rod. Candy must have
been thinking the same thing, for she too lunged at the pulsing pecker.
(This despite the fact that she had not finished tying her bra, as Melanie
had.) Rob just laughed and scooted his hips back. He put a palm to the top
of Melanie's diving head. Veronica, squealing, helped Rod fight off the
teens' attack.
Melanie and Kimberly, defeated, erected their backs and sat their
bottoms on their heels. Both girls brushed back their tousled hair. "We
shall go boating in a bit, girls," Rob said, as if announcing an impending
ride at Disneyland. "Let's get out of the sun and enjoy some refreshments
in the meantime."
Brent's jeep was parked nearby. The girls packed the lighter things
back into the jeep, while the two men handled the heavier items. Then Rob
and his twin teenage companions broke down their own more modest
campsite. After this both groups loaded into their respective vehicles and
headed off.
About a mile from the artificial lagoon was a small harbor, still
within the grounds of the private seaside estate. A small but elegantly
appointed clubhouse offered men's and women's restrooms. Unlike any
public facilities Melanie had ever seen before (or Candy, for that matter),
these changing areas were adorned with marble slabs, rather than
benches, and had private, immaculate shower stalls inlaid with exquisite
tiles. Melanie took a shower amidst a scene of seahorses and starfish.
The tiles in Candy's shower stall portrayed a surreal figure of Neptune,
sans clothing. Veronica bathed amidst mermaids, while Sherry and Diane,
unable to find separate accommodations for the both of them, shared a
shower. Sirens wriggled temptingly upon rocks as Sherry and Diane
soaped each other down.
After their showers the girls rinsed their bikinis, rubbing them a bit
with bars of soap to get them totally clean. A drier was found, and the
girls sat and chatted on throw cushions atop the marble slabs while
waiting for their things. Modestly, they sat with bath towels wrapped
about their torsos. As they talked they passed about a hand-held mirror
and did their makeup. Each girl helped the other with this most essential
of feminine tasks. (Though, in truth, had the girls gone utterly without
paint and powder on their faces they could still have made dead men cum.)
When the bikinis were dry the girls were about to put them on, when
Veronica said,
"It's no fun wearing our same old clothes." The other girls agreed.
"Let's get the boys to buy us more!" All the girls sashayed over to the
opening to the women's changing room.
"It's about time!" Rob croaked as three of the girls peered about the
edge of the tiled, open doorway. Coyly discreet, the girls did not want the
men to get a good look at their bodies, though wrapped in towels. Only
their heads and shoulders peeped beyond the wall which formed the
doorframe. That and an occasional jiggling pair of half-covered
mammaries.
"Robbb," the girls whined. We want some money to buy new clothes.
The girls pouted at both Rob and Brent.
"Good God! We're only going toÑ" Rob began, but cut himself short.
"I've got some bucks," Brent said. He fished his wallet out of his
shorts and produced a wad of bills.
"All right, all right," Rob said, reaching for his own wallet. "It's not
like I can't afford it, after all."
"Indeed," Melanie smirked, sharing a private smile with Candy.
"Thankyou Rob...and Brent!" Veronica smiled, taking the money for all
five of the girls. They retreated back into the women's locker room.
There Melanie and Candy slipped back into their wicked bikinis and tees
and microminis for the last time. Somewhat selfconsciously, they
emerged from the locker room, Veronica, Sherry, and Diane in tow, each
dressed almost as proactively. Outside the building and down a narrow
wooden sidewalk there was a "Strings and Things" bikini and beach
clothing shop. Much to the girls' chagrin, a group of senior citizens had
just disembarked from a boat and made for the "Strings and Things" shop
too. The girls got not a few winks from the old geezers, and looks of
disapproval from their ancient wives.
Melanie picked out a crop top for herself, Candy a midriff top. Both
girls selected denim zip-front shorts. Melanie's had pockets only in front,
Candy's had pockets only on her seat. For Veronica it was a more demure
tie-back halter top that stretched all the way from its sweetheart
neckline to her navel. Below this she wore white shorts that extended
nearly to her knees. Sherry selected a top that looked a lot like a small
jacket. It bared her belly, while featuring a lace-edged collar. Daringly,
the top had open shoulders. Its sleeves were long but ended a few inches
from her wrists. Beneath she wore a skirt that dropped halfway down her
thighs. The skirt was adorned with a belt of white leather. The entire
outfit was the color of pearls, and made a striking contrast to the tanned
skin of her shoulders, belly, and legs.
Stretch lace leggings matched with an oversized top was what Diane
selected, making her look both formal and trampily seductive at the same
time. Diane even complimented her outfit with spiked heels, as opposed to
the sneakers that the other girls chose to buy. Obviously Diane expected
to finish out her seaborne voyage with a few cocktails, perhaps even some
dancing. The other girls had been thinking in sportier terms.
Dressed at last in their new clothes, the girls accompanied the men
to Brent's sailboat. Brent and Rob insisted that the girls ready the boat
for the voyage, making even Diane join the labor. It was a fairly hard job,
putting up the boat's sail, tying off its ropes, but there were five of them,
and the men did lend a hand now and then. The girls knew the main reason
the men had put them to the task was to admire their bodies at work.
Finally the boat set sail. The men took over now, driving the boat
where they would across the waves. The girls took a much needed break.
They sat back or stretched out, sipping sodas and beer. Once at sea the
men joined the girls in relaxing, taking turns at the rudder. Rob began to
tell Melanie, Candy, and Veronica of a mysterious island that served as a
judicious hideaway for those who pursued more decadent thrills. Sherry
and even Diane had been to the island before, and they joined in explaining
its various features:
"A wealthy industrialist bought the place, and built a castle on it.
He has a thing for moats and drawbridges and turrets and dungeons and
such," Diane explained diffidently. "I was very scared the first time I
went there, but I survived." Diane smiled, a look of triumph on her face.
Her hands fingered the lace flounce along the hem of her dress-length
pullover. Below her knees, small and brown, knocked together once.
"Would you like to visit?" Sherry asked the girls. Melanie looked at
Candy, then both looked at Veronica.
"I suppose we could," Veronica began.
"But if we don't like the looks of it we'll insist you turn the boat
around!" Melanie said. Sherry suppressed a mature giggle.
"Well, the industrialist has seen to that," Diane said. "Everyone on
his or her first visit must jump from the boat and swim ashore. Of
course, you're on a boat belonging to someone who's been there before."
"Which means that we don't have to jump in the water?" Candy said
hopefully.
"Which means that you do have to jump in the water, but will be
allowed ashore when you swim up onto the beach," Sherry said.
"Well, that's out," Melanie said. "We left our bikinis back at the
clubhouse."
"Oh, that's O.K.," Diane blurted. "You have to swim ashore naked
anyway."
"N-Naked?!" Melanie, Candy, and Veronica all asked at once. Rob
grinned.
"We call ahead on our radio, see? The guy knows us, so he lets us
approach the island and dock. When we get within swimming distance you
girls strip off your clothes and jump in the water and swim ashore.
Meanwhile, me and Brent and Sherry and Diane sail the boat around to the
far side of the island and park it at the dock. Unfortunately, or perhaps
the wealthy guy planned it that way, the only beach is on one side of the
island, the only dock on the other. But you'll be watched from the castle's
tower as you swim ashore and there's a speedboat down by the beach in
case you get in trouble. Like, if you started drowning? There's someone in
the tower watching you with binoculars and he would radio a person on the
beach to speed out and pick you up."
"It's not drowning I'm worried about," Melanie said. "It's being naked
in front of people I've never met, living in a place with dungeons!"
"Like I said, it was built for the adventurous," Sherry said. "Me, I'll
try anything once. Now I'm going back as a full member in good standing,
of course. It's only scary the first time. But that's part of the fun."
"You wanna do it?" Rob asked. He reached out and fingered the hem
of Melanie's crop top, as if to encourage her to undress.
"There's the island now!" Diane called out, pointing. Melanie and
Candy and Veronica, their backs to it, pivoted their torsos about to have a
look. Over the roll of a wave the island appeared. It stuck up from the
ocean like Gibraltar, but much smaller. Amidst the thick foliage dotting
its surface a rock hewn castle rose. Melanie felt a shiver course through
her, and sensed a similar feeling ran down the spines of Candy and
Veronica.
"I don't know," Candy said softly.
"Wait 'till we get a little closer. Then you can decide," Rob said.
Brent was already on the radio. It was hand-held, and he talked into it as
he continued to steer their craft.
The girls debated amongst themselves for awhile, as all the time the
island grew closer. Sherry and Diane urged their acceptance. Two factors
played a part in their ultimate agreement: that there were three of them
who would swim ashore, and that even frail Diane had undergone the
bizarre entree.
Having decided to partake, the girls simply congratulated
themselves on their courage in making such a decision and then continued
to sit about. Finally Rob came over and said gently, "Girls, if you're going
to have a swim, at some point you need to jump in the water." This caused
a new flurry amongst the girls, much of it still laced with indecision.
Finally Rob nudged Veronica and said quietly to her, "Set an example,
would you?"
Very hesitantly, Veronica slowly stood up on the rocking boat and
put a hand to the front of her tie-back halter top. First she fingered the
sweetheart neckline, then ran her fingers along the halter's stretch lace
bottom. This was all rather useless, as the top had to be undone in back if
it were to come off. Rob, slightly exasperated, walked directly up to
Veronica and seized her top in front along its sweetheart neckline. With
one mighty tear he ripped the garment right down the front. Melanie and
Candy needed no further encouragement.
Well aware that they were being watched by an island observer,
Melanie and Candy unzipped their denim shorts and wriggled the tight
fabric down their thighs. Beneath they wore satiny panties, Melanie's of
white and Candy's of pastel pink. In back the panties were thongs, leaving
the moons of their bottoms fully exposed to whomever might be up in the
castle's tower. Veronica, meanwhile, screeched as Rob ripped off her
knee-length shorts as unceremoniously as he had removed her top.
"I know! We can swim in our panties!" Melanie said brightly to Candy.
"Girls, either take them off or I'll rip them off," Rob interjected
from where he stood with the recalcitrant Veronica. Melanie gulped and,
with unsure fingers, slithered down her panties. Candy did the same.
Finally both girls wiggled out of their tight little tops, pulling them up
over their heads.
"Sneakers too," Rob admonished. Candy and Melanie both sat their
bare bottoms down on the wooden bench running along the side of the
craft. The bench felt cool, and had a thin layer of salt on it that the girls
hadn't noticed until now. Obviously, when one's bare bottom is perched on
a seat one pays more attention to its condition. Both girls bent over and,
breasts wriggling, untied their sneakers. Kicking off the shoes, they
looked up at Rob, who had strode over to stand before them. Veronica took
a seat beside the girls. Rob's chest bulged out beneath his T-shirt, and his
pants sported a bulge as well. Rob put his hands on his hips. The girls
regarded him meekly. Little did they realize that they would not see him
again. Sherry sat nearby, delicately sipping a martini. Diane had
retreated to the back of the boat, where Brent, now bare-chested, was
steering. Diane was sitting close beside Brent, giving him a back rub as he
guided the craft with the rudder.
"Do me one last favor," Rob said. He unzipped the front of his shorts.
With newly alert eyes the girls watched as he parted his underpants to
release his big prong. The girls needed no encouragement. Anything to
keep them on the boat was welcome to them. All three attacked Rob's
penis with relish.
Rob did not last long under the feminie assault. The girls cooed and
petted and sucked his manhood until, suddenly, he spurted a white stream
over them. Most of it hit Melanie. The girls, after squealing over the
tribute, took on a look of disappointment.
"Rob, why didn't you tell us you were going to come?" Melanie pouted.
I DONÕT HATE MY BODY
by holy joe
Once again feminists are complaining that portrayals of beautiful
females in fashion magazines teach ÔrealÕ females to hate their bodies.
Well, what about us men? Why havenÕt I seen a single feminist raise the
issue of the portrayal of men in fashion magazines?
Take me. I eat a lot at Burger King (when I can get somebody to
ÔloanÕ me the money.) I weigh about 350 pounds. I guess this would be
good for a football player, but IÕm only 5Õ6Ó tall. (DonÕt ask my dick size.)
Like men throughout the ages, I hate taking baths. When it rains, I bathe.
Otherwise, I figure IÕm doing the world some good by saving water. And,
like the Old Testament prophets, I never shave.
IÕm not a conspicuous consumer. My clothes come from the rubbish
dump. I live a very Ôlow impactÕ lifestyle. I donÕt commute (I donÕt work),
and I donÕt own a car. I use no electricity. (IÕm not exactly Ôoff the grid,Õ
but I find Burger KingÕs lighting suits my needs just fine.) If I need a
vacation, I donÕt go to Bali or Fiji. I go to the playground.
Since IÕm probably the only ÔrealÕ man (short, fat, hairy, and smelly)
who doesnÕt hate his body, I would make the perfect fashion model. I
would be delighted to represent Calvin KleinÕs underpants on bus stop
signs. This would not only keep me from begging in the street, it would
assist me psychologically as well. I figure if I could see myself in my
underpants up there on a billboard, I wouldnÕt need to be a flasher
anymore.
Yet, as of now, I have received no modeling assignments. Not even
one. Instead, every day, we men (and the women who are supposed to love
us) are subjected to Adonis-like portrayals of men that are utterly
unrealistic. I mean, whenÕs the last time you commuted with Arnold
Schwarzenegger?
Please, ladies, donÕt just protest about the female models. Protest
about the male models too. We men need to see positive portrayals of
ourselves in the media. In fact, men like me have been discriminated
against in the fashion world for so long that I feel we need a government
mandated affirmative action program. For the next 30 years (at least) we
should see ONLY short, fat, hairy men in the media. Bye bye to all those
blow dried news announcers, political candidates, and models. From now
on, it should be NORMAL men we see depicted in our culture!
IÕve put together a movie proposal to go along with my big splash in
the fashion world. My first feature film will be titled The Crock. It will
star me under my screen name, ÔSuper Holy.Õ I will wear underpants and
run around with a cape helping little girls learn to love their bodies
(instead of hating them, thanks to Kate Moss). And I will urge little old
ladies to exercise more, by dropping them into the middle of a freeway and
making them cross all by themselves.
I hope you will support me in my campaign to help normal men love
their bodies and themselves. Guys, IÕve set up a special number for you to
call. You wonÕt forget it, hopefully. I tried to pick something that we do a
lot of, but never get credit for. ItÕs 1-800-JERK OFF. You ladies should be
able to remember this number too, since when I ask you for money at
Burger King thatÕs usually what you say to me. With your help IÕll be on
the cover of the next issue of Vanity Fair (and Seventeen!)
AND IN THE END...
ÒA culture that tells girls theyÕre victims is no better than one that
tells girls theyÕre objects.Ó - Newsweek, June 17, 1996, pg. 66
----------------------- Fuck Decency! -----------------------
-Free Fuck Decency e-mail subscriptions: send (18 or up) age
statement to: roller666@aol.com
-To unsubscribe: Send $100.00 to The North American Man/Boy Love
Association, P.O. Box 174, Midtown Station, New York, NY 10018.
-My ftp site is: members.aol.com/roller666 Diapergirls! (CuntCastle2d)
-My ftp site is: members.aol.com/roller6666 NEW! BushLeague4b
-My ftp site is: members.aol.com/nnd666 NEW! FadUnivPb
-Back issues at Usenet newsgroup: alt.poop?
-or send e-mail to: file.request@backdrop.com
-Free minicomics: send a stamped, self-addressed envelope & age
statement to: Jim Corrigan, P.O. Box 3663, Phenix City, AL 36868
U.S.A. For C-SPAN programming, Call 1-202-628-2205
-Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is
copyright 1996 and a trademark of Andrew Roller.
-NNDÕs favorite ftp site: members.aol.com/fm99999
-END OF 71 EMISSION