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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2012.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
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Sam and the Weasel
by Timberwolf (ptotrcw@gmail.com)

***

A drifter finds a feral girl, and his life changes. 
(M/ff-teen, ped, inc, oral, anal, orgy)

***

Author Note: The usual disclaimers apply here. If 
you're too young, find this stuff objectionable, or 
are too tight-assed to read it, bugger off, you 
shouldn't even be here. Feedback is always welcome, 
and you can email me at: ptotrcw@gmail.com

***

-= Chapter One =-

Sam wasn't his real name. He just told people that as 
it was short and simple, easy to remember, and he'd 
say no more, and keep to himself. He was a loner, 
shunning the company of humans, preferring to spend 
his time with himself. He liked it that way.

He was an itinerant, moving from place to place, town 
to town, hitching all over the country picking up work 
where he could, going hungry when he couldn't. He'd 
come to know the abandoned buildings, houses, and 
shacks everywhere he went, and he'd hole up when he'd 
have the chance to, otherwise, he'd just put his tarp 
up in a grove of trees, or anywhere he could, and make 
camp.

Sam wasn't a dirty man. His body and clothes were 
always kept clean, and he shaved every day, but kept a 
moustache, trimmed and neat, worn in a cowboy style 
favoured by a TV actor he liked, a habit left over 
from his previous life, a life that was happy, where 
he had a wife, and three children, and it hurt him to 
think about that, because he didn't understand how 
suddenly it all came crashing down around him.

He'd been a high-profile executive, and he and his 
wife enjoyed the fruits of his labour. House, cars, a 
holiday home by a lake, and money in the bank. Lots of 
money in the bank. Then one carefree day he walked in 
the door, home early from work, and his wife was there 
with another man, in the bedroom, rutting like a pair 
of dogs in heat.

Sam had stood there, stunned. He hadn't seen it 
coming, and he was at a loss to understand why she was 
cheating on him, in his own bed, at that! His wife was 
humping her hips up at the man, and when the man 
turned his head as he was ejaculating, Sam felt his 
guts hit the floor. It was Roger, his best friend, and 
a close colleague from work!

Then his wife saw him, and laughed. She just lay there 
nude, not covering herself, as Roger rolled over, and 
lay beside her. She started to call him names, 
eviscerating him, and she had a mad gleam in her eye 
as she did so. Roger didn't say a word, he just lay 
there nude and grinned. Sam walked out, and left. In 
the course of the next few months, his wife, Jenny, 
took him for everything. The house, the cars, the 
holiday home, and to be extra catty, she got the funds 
from his accounts as well.

Sam was left with nothing. Even the children had 
turned their backs on him. That had hurt the most. Sam 
was at a deep low point in his life, and the only 
thing Jenny didn't want, was his handgun. She had 
given it back to him, personally. She had even tried 
to get him to use it on himself, so that she could 
claim the insurance!

So Sam, who'd spent time in the woods as a means of 
unwinding and de-stressing, packed up his gear, and 
walked away. He was free now, but he carried a load of 
grief and shame with him that weighed him down more 
than the pack did.

***

So here he was, seven and a half years later, and he 
was sitting by the fireplace in an old abandoned house 
many miles from the nearest town, and he stared into 
the flames as he stirred the coals, his mind a blank, 
just watching the flames as they danced and ate slowly 
through the pine logs he'd collected that afternoon.

He had bought supplies from the local store, paid for 
by doing some menial labour, and when he'd finished, 
the storekeeper handed him the bag of groceries, 
thanked him for a job well done, and told him he was 
welcome back any time, because although he was what 
some would label a hobo, he had a way of getting 
people to like him, and more than once, the sadness in 
his eyes would cause a widow, or a woman who wasn't, 
to take him into her bed for the night, and he always 
made them feel special as payment for their kindness.

He made the women understand, when they'd asked him to 
stay, that he wasn't looking for a full-time 
relationship, that it was just too hard for him to 
reconnect with female company again, and they always 
understood, or seemed to, and told him that if he was 
passing through again, to call in, and a meal would be 
waiting for him. He'd smile, kiss them on the cheek, 
and walk away, never looking back.

So, this night, as he prepared for bed, a sleeping bag 
and an old mattress for sleeping arrangements, Sam 
began to think of the future again, surprising 
himself, because he never allowed himself to, it was 
something that frightened him, if he was honest with 
himself. A hard winter was coming, and he didn't want 
to be caught out on the road.

One time, he'd come across the body of another 
itinerant, who'd been caught out in the weather, and 
snow was still on his frozen corpse. That gave Sam a 
chill, and not from the cold wind blowing.

Then he rolled his body into the sleeping bag, and 
drifted off, listening to the logs hiss and spit, the 
flames crackling, greedily eating into the pine coals.

***

A noise woke him, and he felt a presence in the room 
with him. Whoever or whatever it was, the movement 
across the room was almost silent. Sam cracked his 
eyes open to a sliver, and saw a small shadowy figure 
creep across the room, and Sam just lay there, 
breathing normally, slow deep breaths, and didn't 
move. The figure stopped, threw a look at him, and 
continued on, heading for his pack, and the food.

After the shadowy figure passed him, he was moving, 
slowly, silently, himself. A bowie knife was in his 
hand, and he knew how to use it. He'd taken it off a 
hobo that tried to rob him, and although Sam was 
unarmed, he fought back, getting a small cut on his 
arm in the process, and decked the fellow. But in the 
scuffle, he'd hit the smelly, dirty, foul-breathed, 
foul-mouthed man too hard, and Sam heard his neck 
snap. He didn't get up.

He was dead, so Sam searched his corpse, found the 
sheath for the knife, some coins, and a couple of 
dollar bills, but nothing else worth keeping. Sam 
dragged the body to a nearby ravine, and rolled it in, 
and went back, picked up the knife, his pack, and 
strode away from there, and amazingly enough, he felt 
no anger, no shame, nothing at all from killing the 
bum.

So Sam went into crouch, then stood slowly, rising 
over the thief in the night, as he, a boy, Sam 
guessed, began to rifle through his belongings, the 
man on the floor forgotten, and he heard a gasp of joy 
as the tins of food were found.

That's when Sam dropped the hammer. He spoke, his 
voice loud in the room, and said "What the hell do you 
think you're doing, boy?"

The child jumped, gave a shriek, and went to dart away 
around the angry man. But Sam was quicker, and 
collared the hellcat, who fought back and punched, 
scratching and biting to get away. Sam dropped the 
knife, and it was kicked away, so that the little 
thief wasn't hurt, or could grab it to use it on him. 
They battled in silence, grunts the only sound that 
could be heard.

The boy didn't make a sound otherwise, and Sam was 
starting to get pissed off, and to end the melee, he 
picked up the boy, and as his feet left the floor, Sam 
hurled him into the wall, shaking it, and the boy's 
head snapped back, and with a loud thump, it connected 
with the wall, and then, unconscious, the child 
thumped to the floor on his butt, not making a 
whimper.

The angry man stood there, his chest heaving as he 
brought his breathing under control. When he was 
breathing normally again, he regarded the sleeping 
young boy, who couldn't have no more than eleven or 
twelve, and then he moved to him, and when he went to 
raise him up his fingers felt the ribs of the skinny 
body. Then swearing, Sam raised the tails of his 
shirt, and saw an emaciated torso, the ribs showing 
plainly, the belly concave with malnutrition, the hip 
bones jutting and sharp.

No wonder the boy wouldn't let go of the groceries, 
Sam thought to himself, and then he lifted one of the 
boy's eyelids, saw he'd got himself a concussion by 
his head hitting the wall.

So Sam lifted the unconscious boy into his arms, and 
the odour of the small body assaulted his olfactory 
senses. The child stank, and Sam smelled sweat, dirt, 
corruption, and urine. The suddenly contrite man 
looked down into the sleeping face, and saw a young 
innocent face, the cheekbones thinly covered over by 
skin, and the boy had a faintly girlish look.

Sam stood still, his brow furrowing, and just to make 
sure, laid the child down on his sleeping bag, and 
undid his filthy dirt-caked jeans, sliding them down 
the skinny thighs. He was surprised to see a small 
filthy pair of girl's cotton panties, and there was no 
doubt about it, he had an adolescent girl lying there, 
and she was filthy, dirt caked all over her, and the 
smell from her panties caused him to wrinkle his nose, 
the fragrance of dirt, urine and faeces emanating from 
them.

***

The crotch panel of the panties were also stained 
green, from old blood, and he wondered if the girl was 
having her periods, and if so, how did she take care 
of herself?

He pondered this turn of events for the rest of the 
night, not sleeping, keeping a careful eye on his 
sleeping charge. The next day, the child was still 
unconscious, but breathing normally, so Sam got some 
water from a tap, happy that there was still pressure 
enough to be usable, and stripped the adolescent, and 
washed her, from head to toe. She was actually quite 
pretty, once the grime was removed to show him her 
face, and as Sam had once had a daughter, he held her 
gently, washing away the dirt and grime from her hair 
and body, and after changing the basin of water 
several times, it was afternoon before he'd got her 
completely clean.

She had beautiful chestnut hair that hung just past 
her shoulders, and when it was wet, Sam brushed it by 
running his comb through it, breaking up the snarls 
and combing out the debris in it.

The lonely man also made a hot sweet tea, and fed that 
to the girl, drop by drop, and when the liquid touched 
her lips, she gasped, and her tongue darted out, the 
emaciated body craving liquid. He did this on a 
regular basis, and as she slept, he had took her 
clothing away, washing them in cold water, finding an 
old box of detergent under a pile of rubble in another 
room, the box chewed by rodents, but although the 
detergent was caked solid, it was still usable.

He had to wash the clothes a few times, changing the 
water over and over again, until finally, they were 
recognisable as normal clothes, and then he hung them 
out to dry. With the clement weather, that only took a 
couple of hours.

As he'd washed the crusted gunk from her private 
parts, which had a rash, and a sparse scattering of 
pubic hair, the pubic mound prominent, and anus, the 
girl had groaned, and her hands fluttered weakly, as 
if trying to keep his hands away from there, but 
apologising to the unaware child, he persevered, until 
she was clean, and smelled better. Sam went to his 
pack, and from a first-aid kit, took a tube of 
antiseptic cream, and applied to her rash.

Sam noticed that she had previously had sexual contact 
of some description, and she definitely wasn't a 
virgin anymore. He felt an angry heat at that, 
silently cursing the vile animal who'd had penetrated 
the immature body of the child before him. Sam didn't 
know who, and knew he couldn't do anything about it if 
he tried. He 'd probably be told to mind his own 
business, folks being what they were.

Sam had no illusions about people anymore. His ex-wife 
and so-called 'best friend' saw to that. So tending 
the somnambulant child became his world.

Then pulling out an old tee shirt, the girl's new 
protector and friend slipped her now clean and dry 
panties back up her thin legs, and tucked them snug on 
her. Then he dressed her in the old tee shirt, to give 
her a measure of modesty when she woke.

She had scratch marks around her puffy nipples, and 
Sam wondered how she'd got them. They were healing, a 
week or two old, and had crusted with blood, and they 
looked like scratches from fingernails, not from any 
fall in a natural setting. They were wider than her 
own fingers, so an adult had given them to her. She'd 
had a hard life, and Sam found himself wanting to take 
her from there, never let her out of his sight, and 
prepared to do violence to protect her.

Which brought up another problem. Who and where were 
her parents? The only place near here was an abandoned 
hobo camp, called 'The Dump', where people dumped 
their trash, and occasionally, teens would come out to 
the place, smoking pot and drinking beer, and letting 
loose, and sometimes starting fires, causing the local 
fire department to place that area under ban, and 
several boys who thought they were smarter that the 
fire department and police found themselves under 
arrest, and punished.

***

Sam came to decision, one that was to change his life 
after that. He decided to go look for the child's 
parents, and he was going to start at The Dump, and 
see if they were there. If they were, he had a few 
choice words to say to them! It was a half hour walk 
from the house, and through a belt of trees. So, 
checking to see if the girl was sleeping okay, he 
started to walk, and a little time later, he had The 
Dump in sight. Then, as he neared it, he could smell a 
foul sweetish stench coming from there. Rounding a 
bend, past a pile of old appliances, he saw a car, one 
of the back doors open, and next to that, a made-do 
shelter.

Coming closer to the smell of corruption, he saw a 
body on the ground. It had been dragged, and Sam saw 
bite marks on it, and some of the flesh from the face 
was missing, and the bones and teeth grinned at him. 
It was the body of a male, about six feet tall, 
stocky, and the arms, what was left of them, were 
covered in prison tattoos. He'd been shot several 
times, and was covered in old black blood.

In the shelter, he found the body of a female, about 
five-six. She had been shot multiple times as well, 
and by the bloody rags nearby, he guessed that a make-
shift job had been done to staunch the flow of blood, 
as it looked someone had tried to patch her up. But 
that had availed the two nothing, both dying of their 
wounds. In the back pocket of the man's jeans, there 
was a wallet, containing an old photograph, and he, 
the woman, and the child back in the house stared out 
at him, but none were smiling. Sam put the photo in 
his back pocket. Maybe the child would want it.

Leaving the bodies, Sam made his way to the car, and 
using the keys in the ignition, he found that the 
battery still had life in it, so he took the keys, and 
going to the rear of the vehicle, he opened the trunk, 
and found three large new sports bags. Opening the 
zipper on one, he saw money. Lots and lots of money, 
in used bills. Sam stood there, and shivered. Fate was 
a cruel mistress, but when she smiled on you, you 
accepted what she gave you, no questions asked.

***

There was more money in the other two bags, and then 
Sam remembered that a week previously, an armoured car 
in a distant city had been held up, and two and a half 
million dollars in used bills had been taken, and were 
still missing. Sam made a quick mental tally, and that 
was almost the exact amount he'd lost in the divorce. 
But the robbers didn't get off lightly. There were 
seven dead, five of the robbers, and two of the 
security guards killed in the shoot-out. The two 
robbers who'd got away were suffering from gunshot 
wounds, and Sam knew where they were, now.

The police and government agencies were looking for 
the robbers and the get-away vehicle, but the 
description of it didn't match the one he was looking 
at. Sam looked through the car, and found the 
vehicle's registration, and as he still had his 
licence, he was legal to drive it. Throwing anything 
he didn't need, including a pile of empty take-out 
containers, several weapons and some ammunition, and 
other assorted trash away, he closed up the car, got 
in, started it first go, and drove back to the house.

The child woke the third day, in the late evening, and 
as he came into the room with an armload of firewood, 
hearing the faint sounds of wild dogs snarling, he 
found her lying there, looking at him with brilliant 
green eyes, and they had a desperate, feral look about 
them. He walked past her, dropped the wood onto the 
floor, and saying nothing, he began to fix her a meal. 
She was silent as she watched him, flinching when he 
came too close, and she was intimidated, he saw, by 
the tallness of him towering over her, the weather-
beaten look and the grave face.

When the meal of beans and bacon was ready, he held it 
out to her, but she made no move to take it. So he put 
it down on the floor where she could reach it, put a 
spoon on the plate, and sat back, while he got the 
fire restarted. When it was crackling and sending out 
heat, he sat cross-legged away from it, and stared 
into the flames, and rolled a smoke.

"Who the fuck are you?" she said.

"Sam," he replied.

"You can't hold me," she said. "Mom and Dad are out 
looking for me, and they'll kill you for kidnapping 
me!" she said, darting looks at the doorway.

"I met your parents yesterday," Sam drawled, looking 
at her suddenly frightened face. "They'd looked really 
good after the wild dogs and rats got through with 
them. I said hello for you."

***

"Look, girl," he said, his tone even. "I know who your 
parents were. A pair of gun happy fools that robbed an 
armoured car, and made off with a pile of money. But," 
he shook his head, not breaking eye contact, "they 
paid for it in blood. They're never coming back for 
you."

The child now held herself, suddenly realising her 
fate hung in the hands of this hard-eyed stranger. She 
started to twitch her lip, and looked ready to break 
down any second.

"As I said, my name is Sam. What's yours?"

The frightened child just sat there, and then she did 
cry, the sobs shaking her, and she felt alone, 
abandoned. She had no-one now, and she didn't know 
this dreadful stranger in front of her, filling her 
with terror. Would he rape her, like her father, and 
uncles, whom were all dead now, did? Would he kill 
her, and drive away with the money her parents died 
for? Would he even rape and kill her? She didn't know! 
and so she gave up finally, crying.

Sam sat there on the floor, watching her go through 
her crisis, but he did nothing to help her. She had to 
come to him, ask him for help. She cried and sobbed, 
holding herself, rocking slightly sideways, as if to 
comfort herself. Then, her neglected body took over 
through her grief, and she could smell the cooling 
bacon and beans. Watching Sam warily, sniffling, she 
took the plate, and held it close to herself, and 
began to eat, forcing mouthful after mouthful in, 
almost choking as she ate.

"You'll have cramps if you do that," Sam said quietly. 
"Eat slowly, otherwise you'll throw it all up, and 
dehydrate your body."

Sam had put his canteen on the fire, and was making 
hot sweet tea for the girl. When it was ready, he held 
it out to her, she did nothing, her hands full, so he 
placed it by her knees, tucked under the stretched tee 
shirt hem.

With a cry, the girl jumped to her feet, and rushed 
outside, where she vomited loudly and violently, her 
shrunken stomach rejecting the food she'd forced into 
it, so Sam went out to her, and held her until she was 
finished, wiping her face, then helped the staggering 
child back into the warm room, sitting her down and 
saying, "Just as well I made more. I had a feeling you 
were going to do that. I did it myself, first time I 
was starving!"

***

The second time she tried to eat, her mouth flooded 
with saliva, and she couldn't get enough. The beans 
were the finest meal she'd ever eaten, her eyes 
flooding with tears of gratitude, so Sam opened his 
pack, and put a can of Irish stew on to heat, while 
she sipped at the tea. She screwed up her nose at the 
taste of it, but he told her to drink, as she needed 
to the liquid and glucose to give her strength.

Almost despite herself, the girl lost the desperate 
and feral look, and started to relax, slowly filling 
up on food and drink, becoming content at this small 
measure of normalcy. Sam dished up half the stew for 
her, and ate the rest, and they said nothing while 
they ate.

Sam broke out a packet of chocolate biscuits, and they 
crunched on them as a dessert. The tall man watched 
the girl, while she watched him. Finally, she gave a 
burp, slapped her hand over her mouth with a guilty 
look, and so Sam belched loudly, and then they were 
laughing, both relaxed and warm in the house.

They still said nothing, just listening to the crackle 
and hiss of the fire.

"Tomorrow," Sam told her breaking the silence, "I'm 
getting in the car, and leaving this place". She 
darted a frightened look at him. The adolescent became 
desperate. Was he going to dump her there? She 
remembered how hungry and thirsty she'd been, how the 
tears had come from her eyes as she cried, her stomach 
hurting from emptiness.

Then he continued. "I'm giving you the option, the 
choice, of coming with me. I can look after you, and 
I'd consider it an honor to do so. Or, I could drop 
you off somewhere, anywhere you name, and we'll go our 
separate ways."

He said nothing more, waiting for her.

The child was stunned. He was offering her a chance to 
go with him and be looked after? He wasn't going to 
abandon her, quite the opposite, in fact, but also 
offering her the choice to go home, where she had 
grown up, and she thought of Mrs. Andretti, the lovely 
Italian woman upstairs from her, who always had a 
smile for her, and a boiling pot of spaghetti on, and 
she felt a pang of loss, for her old life, and the 
couple, who, although they had abused her, were, after 
all, her parents, who had demanded her loyalty.

But they were gone now, and she didn't know of anyone 
who would take her in.

The quiet man said, "Sleep on it, and you can tell me 
your answer in the morning."


-= Chapter Two =-

That night, due to the expediency of comfort, and 
causing the child some discomfort in return, they had 
to sleep side by side, and the girl lay on her side on 
the mattress, her back to him, stiff as a board under 
the sleeping bag, and she trembled, causing Sam to say 
testily, "Girl, we've been sleeping this way for the 
last couple of nights! I haven't touched you in any 
way improperly, and now that you're awake, I'm not 
about to start! Now, go to sleep, dammit!"

The young female rolled toward him, and gaped. "You've 
slept with me? And didn't touch me? Holy cow, are you 
gay?"

He looked at her, and snorted. "No, I'm not gay! I 
have a healthy interest in females, adult females, and 
you're too young to be called adult! But remember 
this! You're all clean now, and who, may I ask, did 
that?"

He lay back and closed his eyes while she digested 
that, and she blushed to her roots, and squeaked in 
surprise, realising that, indeed she was clean! She 
hadn't noticed, not realising that she was even 
dressed differently. Waking up in the company of a man 
that had knocked her lights out had given her other 
things to worry about.

Then she was squirming, but for another reason. 
"What's the matter this time?" the man asked her.

"I gotta go," she mumbled.

Sam got up, and from his pack, pulled out a small 
folding shovel, and roll of toilet paper, handed them 
to her, and said, "Don't go far. Those wild dogs 
haven't finished with the bodies, and they're still 
out there."

She was out and back in fast. As she stood there, she 
looked undecided about something, then with a 
suffering look on her face, and a choked sob, she 
knelt on the mattress, pulled back the sleeping bag, 
and reached for Sam's belt. As she was undoing it, he 
gently grabbed her hand, and said quietly, "What are 
you doing?"

She began to cry, and told him she had to pay him back 
for his kindness, and she didn't know what else to do, 
and she said she had had to do this before, but didn't 
mention who to, or with.

Sam said to her gently, "You don't have to do this, no 
matter what you think, or who told you that you have 
to do it this way. I'd do it for my own daughter, so 
we're even, okay? Lie down and sleep."

So she lay down, and this time, she cuddled into him, 
looking fearfully at his face, and he had the 
impression that she'd never cuddled before. So, he put 
his arm around her shoulders, and she snuggled in, her 
hands up against his ribs, her head on his chest, and 
then he said to her, "You still haven't told me what 
your name is. I'm going to call you 'Weasel'. You sure 
fight like one, all claws and teeth!

She giggled, and he decided he liked the sound of it.

***

Sam was loading his gear, all packed and rolled, into 
the car. Weasel stood by, watching him, dressed in her 
clothes. Sam had given her the tube of cream, and told 
her to go into the other room, and clean herself, and 
put more on her rash. The child looked at him with a 
blush, but did as she was asked. She hadn't said 
anything during breakfast, so Sam kept his peace, 
letting her decide what she wanted to do. When the 
gear was stowed, he got in, and Weasel slid into the 
passenger seat, riding shotgun, and as she snapped the 
seat belt on, she looked out the front windscreen, and 
asked, "So, where are we going?"

They drove north for a couple of hours, then pulled 
into a gas station, and while Sam gassed the car, 
Weasel got out and stretched her legs, then went into 
the store, and was looking at some ice creams, looking 
at the selections. Sam called out, and said, "Grab two 
Rocky Roads, will you, Weasel?" and the woman behind 
the counter gave a start, and began, with an angry 
look, to open her mouth, about to speak, but Weasel 
was there, and fixing her green eyes on the woman. The 
girl snarled, and bared her teeth at her. With the 
child's emaciated looks, and thin body, the woman 
looked worried.

"You see what I have to put up with?" Sam said 
conversationally. "An experiment in cross genetics 
went wrong, and now I'm stuck with this monster!" 
Weasel, just to drive the point home, gave a good 
imitation of a weasel's hiss, and bared her teeth 
again. Then after collecting his change, they left the 
woman standing there, her jaw dropping from shock. As 
they drove away, Sam and Weasel were roaring with 
laughter.

***

At the next stop, Weasel got out to use the restroom, 
and when she came back out, Sam said, "I'm hungry. How 
about some lunch?"

Weasel's face shone with a smile, and asked if she 
could pick the place, and then when she'd done so, a 
nice homely cafe situated off to the side, almost 
secluded, she perused the laminated menu, and Sam sat 
there, waiting for her to choose something. She 
settled on Shepherd's pie, with everything, apricot 
pie and ice cream for dessert. Sam made his choice, 
and the waitress left them alone.

When the food arrived, Sam and Weasel were deep in 
discussion about clothes, as Sam had mentioned they 
both needed new ones, with winter just around the 
corner, and then Weasel tucked into her meal, and 
didn't stop until she'd finished everything, even 
wiping the plate with her finger, to get the last bit 
of gravy.

So at the last town they stopped at before dark 
settled in, Sam paid for a motel room for the both of 
them, and then after taking his gear into the room, 
including the three bags, he sifted through one, and 
grabbed several hundred dollars. And then they were 
off on a shopping spree.

Weasel had a ball! New underwear, jeans, dresses, 
shoes, slips, the list was amazingly long, and she was 
awhirl with happiness. Sam went into a men's store, 
and he got two of everything, jeans, underwear, socks, 
shirts, and a couple of warm jackets, reminding Weasel 
that winter was coming up, and they both needed warm 
clothing.

***

That night, they had take-out, and sat on the big 
double bed eating it, and watched a silly program on 
the television. Weasel was a bundle of joy, and she 
couldn't sit still. She dragged all of her new clothes 
out, and sat there with them all around her, and her 
hand kept straying to them, touching them, caressing 
them almost. Sam had made sure she had toiletries, and 
a new hairbrush as well. Weasel got up and hugged him, 
and began to cry softly, and so Sam just held her, 
stroking her hair, murmuring soft words into her ear.

When Sam had cautiously brought up the subject of 
periods, Weasel told him she hadn't had one yet, and 
was sure she was due anytime now. He tried to tell her 
about them, but Weasel giggled, and told him she'd 
"already had that conversation, thanks!"

That relieved Sam tremendously, but he still felt 
disappointed, and he wasn't sure why. He'd looked 
forward to his daughter's first period, so that he 
could play the proud father, and shower her with 
gifts. He grinned ruefully at the memory, and pondered 
the vast gulf between that man, and the man he was 
now. No longer proud and haughty, he had become 
humbled and quiet.

Weasel chattered, still on her shopping buzz, and when 
she went quiet, eyes and head drooping, Sam was quick 
to get her to shower before bed, before she flaked out 
in her clothes. She was exhausted. She took a long 
time in there, relishing the water as it cascaded down 
on her emaciated, but recovering body.

Sam tucked her into the single bed, and went to have 
his shower. When he came back into the room, Weasel 
was in his bed, asleep. He left her there, turned out 
the lights, climbed in, and was asleep quickly.

***

The next morning, the sun was shining into the room, 
and Sam opened his eyes to find Weasel sitting up, 
looking at him, her green eyes fixed on his face. He 
groaned, and told her to go have another shower, and 
stop trying to hynotise him. She giggled, and got out 
of bed, and he noticed she was wearing his old tee 
shirt, and was wearing a pair of her new panties, sky 
blue with a little bear on the front.

She walked into the bathroom, and as the water was 
running, she was humming. When she'd finished, she 
came out just in her panties, brushing her hair, and 
proceeded to sort through her new wardrobe, choosing 
clothes for the day.

She was so thin! Sam noticed, and her puffy nipples, a 
pale pink colour, seemed extraordinarily large, her 
ribs still showed, and Sam decided that he'd make sure 
she ate well for the next couple of weeks, to put some 
meat on her bones. God knew, enough of them were 
showing! She was still skinny from malnutrition, and 
Sam's heart broke for her.

Her pubic mound seemed abnormally large, because of 
the fat that had been lost from her legs. She stood 
five feet nothing tall, or so, looking so small and 
tiny, like an elf. But she glowed from the shower, and 
happiness, as though desperately trying to forget the 
last few weeks with her dead parents.

Weasel put all of her old clothes into one of the 
shopping bags, and taking Sam's hand, they went out to 
the dumpster, and she held the bag for a moment, then 
tossed it in. Sam had given her the photograph, and it 
was now in the bag. She didn't want to look at it. She 
said nothing as she walked away, never looking back.

When they stopped for the night, at a town that Weasel 
decided she liked, she asked Sam how long were they 
going to travel for? Sam thought about it, and told 
her he'd been on the road for so long, he hadn't 
thought about staying anywhere in particular. So after 
a restaurant dinner, Weasel telling him she'd never 
been in a restaurant, she ate a large meal that had 
her burping during dessert, they retired to the motel, 
and Weasel began her campaign to settle down.

***

Weasel told Sam they were staying there for a couple 
of days, "to check out places!" He humoured her, 
paying for the difference. He explained to the clerk 
that Weasel was his daughter, when asked about her, 
which earned him a smirk from the teenaged boy, who 
almost earned himself a beating from Sam. Weasel had 
seen the smirk, and threatened to smash his teeth in, 
so he backed off and became very polite after that.

They walked down the main street, and it was a lovely 
town, Sam decided, so he and Weasel decided to lunch 
at a small cafe, and had croissants, and pretended to 
be visiting royalty, and then they both ended up 
laughing, unable to get the British accents correctly.

Together, they looked into the various realtors, 
viewing the different houses for rent or sale, and one 
agent took them to a secluded house on the waterfront, 
the town being beside a lake. Weasel fell in love with 
it immediately. It had its own jetty, and a boat could 
be tied up underneath it, the house was fully 
insulated, top and bottom, and it had internet access. 
"We'll take it!" she announced, so Weasel and Sam 
signed the tenancy agreement, and for the first time 
in almost eight years, Sam had a home, and an almost-
daughter again!

The house was full of wood, and had lots of character, 
tongue-in-groove, and bare rafters. It had a wood 
floor, was two stories, and as they ate their first 
dinner in their new place, Weasel was making plans for 
getting the house paid for so that they could own it. 
Sam could see the benefits of that, and when he called 
the realtor the next day, asking him the price, Weasel 
used her immature charms to beat him down, and the 
realtor was sure surprised when they came into his 
office and put cash, a lot of cash, on his desk. They 
explained it away by saying they'd won it in Vegas, 
and had insisted they be paid in cash, and now it had 
to put it into the bank.

The realtor knew the bank manager, and called him, and 
at the end of that day, they had a joint bank account, 
and a credit card each, which Sam told her to be 
careful with, and smirking, she promptly poked her 
tongue out at him, then grinned, the papers were 
signed, and everyone was happy.

Sam explained the difference between the name on his 
driver's licence, and the name he was using, by saying 
that Sam was a nickname from his childhood, and that 
was accepted as one of his quirks.

***

That evening after dinner, Weasel, who'd looked at his 
driver's liscence, said, "Shelby Danby? That's really 
your name?"

"Don't beat it into the ground!" he growled. "My 
father had illusions of grandeur. He was a store clerk 
who dreamed of making it big and owning a mansion!"

Weasel left it alone, and changed the subject. "How am 
we going to explain my lack of records when I get 
enrolled at the local school?"

Before he could say anything, she said, "Francesca 
Danby! That has a ring to it, don't you think?"

"Francesca? That's really your name?" he said, 
repeating her words back at her.

"Oh, have your fun, why don't you? Smartass!" but she 
laughed, and came over to sit on his lap. Sam held 
her, and asked her if she was okay? He was looking at 
her, and noticed a slight look of wistfulness, sorrow, 
and loss in her eyes.

She gazed at him, and slid a fingertip along his jaw-
line. It was several minutes before she spoke again.

"My name is Francesca Mary Louisa Consuela Parker, 
half Honduran, half Irish. Mom was a maid who came 
here looking for work, and she met and married my 
father. He was a good man, but ran with a gang, and he 
changed, becoming a violent criminal, and that 
resulted in the armoured car robbery. He'd been in 
prison a few times. The rest is history, and I want to 
forget it all, before the time you found me. Or before 
I was so hungry, I tried to rob you."

"I'm an orphan," she said. I've been watching you, and 
you're a good man, Sam. You don't want to hurt me, or 
make me do things," and she shuddered slightly, "that 
I don't want to do. You took care of me! You could 
have left me back there at that house, and drove off, 
but you took responsibility for a homeless starving 
kid who had no-one except two corpses for company!"

"Then," she said, quietly, "you could have had your 
way with me, and no-one would have known, but you were 
the perfect gentleman, and that told me who you were. 
I want you to know that, when the time is right, you 
can collect on that debt."

"It's not a debt," he growled, but she stalled him by 
putting her fingertips on his lips. "Let me finish!" 
she said.

Weasel fixed those amazing green eyes on him, and they 
glowed with intent. "I want to spend the rest of my 
life with you! I love you, Sam!"

Sam looked at her, sitting on his lap, a serious look 
on her face, her hands balled into fists, gripping his 
shirt front, her green eyes looking directly into his. 
He thought over what she'd told him, and he wasn't 
sure how he felt about it.

"How old are you, Francesca?" he asked, using her real 
name for the first time, relishing the way it rolled 
off his tongue.

"I don't see how it matters, but I'm thirteen. I know 
I don't look it, but I used to have a nice figure 
once. As long as you keep feeding me, I'll fill out!"

"Thirteen? Damn girl, I'd have thought you were no 
more that eleven, tops, when I slammed you into that 
wall! I'm really sorry for that, but you were robbing 
me at the time!"

He grinned at her, and she softened, and threw her 
arms around him, and kissed him on the cheek before 
she lay her head on his chest. She laughed, and told 
him, "You're forgiven, you big lump of a man!"

Then she changed the subject back, and said, "But what 
about school? I like the idea of home-schooling, but I 
want to meet people, and make friends! I didn't have 
too many in my old neighbourhood, and I wasn't allowed 
to mix with anyone who wasn't 'one of us!'

***

So they came up with a cover story. They were in 
witness protection, hiding out from a cartel who was 
looking for them. And amazingly enough, the Principle 
accepted the story, her imagination running riot from 
watching cop shows on television, promising to keep it 
under her hat, and also promising that, as they had 
neighbourhood watch in their town, any suspicious 
characters asking about them would be reported to them 
instantly.

So they settled into their new lives. Francesca, who 
still wanted to be called Weasel, filled out, and 
suddenly there was a lush, full figured young woman in 
the house, who would walk around in just her panties 
at night, even when she had her periods, and she had a 
startling effect on Sam. He accepted her nightly 
parades, and would watch her as she walked, stretched, 
and moved, seemingly with the intention of proving to 
him that she was indeed a desirable young woman.

She would sit in an old large armchair she'd bought at 
a thrift store, reading, nude from the waist up, her 
legs tucked up underneath her in the age-old feminine 
way, her puffy pink nipples hard under his eyes. She'd 
always have a smile on her face, and her green eyes 
would dance when she'd 'caught' him looking at her 
charms.

Her periods were regular as clockwork, and you could 
set the calendar by them. Weasel didn't seem to be 
suffering any ill-effects from her enforced 
malnutrition, so Sam got her to have regular check-ups 
anyway, and she was given a clean bill of health.

Weasel was doing well at school, she'd made friends 
easily, and several boys would knock on the door, 
she'd talk to them, then close the door in their 
faces, then decide whether she'd go out on dates with 
them. She did a couple of times, and always in the 
company of others. Weasel made it clear to the boys 
these rules: Double or more dates only. No kissing, no 
groping, no holding hands, and no, repeat no, asking 
for sex. If they didn't like it, too bad for them. 
Funny thing, but she became a popular girl, and at 
least three boys a week would knock on their door, or 
approach her at school.

Only once, and it was only once, a boy who'd agreed to 
her rules, a school football team quarterback, tried 
to force himself on her when she told him no 
determinedly. She got pissed, and put him in the 
hospital, from the simple expedient of beating the 
crap out of him. Don't mess with a barrio kid! She 
became really popular at school, especially with the 
girls who'd caved, and let him have his way.

He wouldn't press charges out of embarrassment, and 
the girls of the school banded around Weasel, a solid 
phalanx of femininity. The girls found themselves 
being treated with respect from the boys after that. 

Weasel told Sam, laughing, that the boy concerned 
would actually duck into a doorway to get out of her 
way if he saw her coming down the hallway, even hiding 
in a girl's toilet to do it! It took them a while to 
calm down from that one!

***

Then Weasel's sixteenth birthday rolled around, and 
Sam was just getting up from his computer, working on 
a building project, as he'd started a small handyman 
business, and was doing his thing, getting quotes for 
materials and hourly rates, when Weasel came into the 
room after school, and announced that she was having 
her party at the house, and she'd invited several of 
her friends over to go through the planning details.

Sam got up, and said he'd go, and leave her to it, as 
he needed to visit the hardware store, and talk with a 
guy there before it closed. As he went to go out the 
door, he ran into a little blonde-haired girl, about 
five foot tall, with a slim figure, and Sam could see 
the tops of her pale breasts down the front of her 
school blouse, and he noticed she was wearing a white 
lacy bra. She squealed in surprise as she walked face 
first into him. Her eyes travelled up his body, and 
when she saw his blue eyes looking into hers, she 
blushed, her jaw dropped open, and she became 
speechless, just staring at him. Sam could feel her 
nipples start to get hard, poking him in his stomach.

Weasel laughed behind her, and introduced her as 
Melanie, one of her friends from school. Sam smiled at 
her, and in a quiet husky voice, said "Hi, Melanie!" 
Melanie was still her school uniform, and Sam thought 
she looked tasty, but kept that to himself. But Weasel 
saw the look in his eye, and said, "Down, tiger!" and 
then Melanie turned around to the girl behind her, and 
apologised!

Weasel just smiled at her, and said it was alright, 
she could look, but no touching, alright?

Melanie looked back at Sam, and sighed, but agreed.

Then Sam left, and Weasel and Melanie went into a 
huddle in the living room, and the young woman kept 
having to pull Melanie's thoughts back on track, as 
she'd get a far-away look in her eye, and lose 
concentration. She was saved from beating Melanie to 
death by the arrival of Gillian and Sonia, both slim 
seventeen year-olds, cheerleaders, who were part of 
Weasel's circle.

Both girls had met Sam before, had both gone through 
the gush-crush thing, and looked with pity on Melanie, 
who was in hormone shock. In the end, Melanie calmed 
down, they let her sit in, and before long, they were 
all in a party frenzy. Sam had promised to go out that 
night, and visit friends that lived down the street.

***

So the night finally arrived, and it was ladies night, 
teenage style. There was no alcohol allowed, and 
definitely no boys allowed, either! At least twenty 
girls turned up, and they were having a ball, and 
that's when the trouble started. The quarterback had 
turned up with his cronies, and to save face, he was 
drunk and trying to barge into the house, egged on by 
his friends, attempting to kiss the birthday girl.

But she refused to let him pass the door, furiously 
telling him to go home and sleep it off, and, when 
having enough of being ribbed by his crew, and still 
hurting emotionally from getting beaten up by a girl, 
he swung a punch, and it connected with Weasel's head, 
and she went down, flying back to land on her side, 
dizzy and half-unconscious.

Pandemonium erupted, and girls were screaming, and the 
boy's friends left in a squeal of tyre smoke at that 
point. A call was made to Sam by a screaming friend of 
Weasels', who was there in a short time. Several of 
the older girls had pinned down the inebriated 
teenaged boy by the time Sam got there, by sitting on 
him, and he was bellowing in an inarticulate rage, 
fighting to get to his feet. Seeing Sam arrive, the 
girls let him up, he rose to his feet, then bellowing 
like a bull, he charged and swung at Sam. Sam stepped 
inside his wild haymaker, blocked the arm with his, 
and jabbed at the boy's face. There was a loud crack! 
and the drunken raging teen went down, and he didn't 
get back up, snoring on the deck.

The police were called, and they took him away in 
handcuffs, trying to stand on wobbly legs, and 
spitting blood and teeth. He was transferred to 
another school, and his parents paid hundreds of 
dollars to fix his face. The boy's father, a wealthy 
industrialist, wanted to press charges against Sam and 
Weasel, but the local police chief just laughed in his 
face, and told him, "Good luck with that!"

Everyone in town knew of his Lothario son, and that 
family were not well liked in the area because of it.

Sam picked Weasel up, and ignoring the chaos around 
him, he carried his girl into the lounge, put her in 
her favourite chair, and curtly told some girls to go 
get him a wet cloth so that he could wipe her face. 
Now that they had something to do, they calmed down, 
and in a moment, a warm wet cloth was pressed into his 
hand, and the girls were huddled around Weasel, cooing 
and fussing like mother hens.

A shiner was already forming on Weasel's face, and she 
was crying, more in pain than in humiliation. She had 
had to defend herself against the advances of the 
neighbourhood toughs that attempted to force her to 
have sex with them, so she was resilient, but it still 
hurts when a fist plants itself against the side of 
your face at full power.

Sam wiped her face, and she winced, held his hand up 
against her head, and was smiling in thanks up at him. 
The cloth was replenished again.

The party fizzled out after that. The girls, most of 
them in shock, went home, but thanked Francesca for 
the invite, and hoped she'd get better soon. Stupid 
wishes, when she'd see them on Monday for school, but 
it was meant well, and soon, it was just Weasel and 
Sam in the living room, and Sam was attendant upon 
her, making sure his girl was doing fine.

***

Sam helped Weasel to her room, but she refused to stay 
in there, and holding her head, went into the 
bathroom, and ran the shower. She told him to just 
turn out the lights, and she'd clean up tomorrow. She 
had her shower, and then she slid into his bed, while 
he had his shower. When he came into his room, rubbing 
a towel over his head, he saw her, and asked her, what 
was she doing?

Weasel lay back, and she was nude from the waist up 
and her breasts were bare, and she told him that she 
didn't want to sleep alone tonight, and would he mind 
if she slept with him?

He told her no, if she wanted to do that he was fine 
with it, and then Sam turned out the light, and they 
lay there together in the moonlight, holding each 
other, not saying anything. Weasel lay beside him, her 
head on his chest, and began to stroke his chest 
lightly, softly, and he shifted, and then before her 
eyes, a little tent began to form in front of her.

"Oh, that's interesting, the elves are going camping!" 
she quipped.

Sam laughed and apologised, saying it had been awhile 
since he'd had a warm body but his own in his bed, and 
tried to make it go away, but wasn't having much luck. 
Weasel slid her hand under the blankets, and gently 
felt him, and he was a solid bar, and he jumped at the 
contact.

"Well," she said. "We can't have you in this 
condition, Sam! You'd get no sleep! Would you like me 
to do something about it?"

Sam looked at her and saw the flash of her teeth. She 
was smiling, and her green eyes shone in the 
moonlight, mesmerising him, and he heard himself say, 
"Yes, yes I would."

She slipped the blankets out of the way, pushing them 
down his legs, and took him into her hand, and began 
to stroke him slowly. Her hand was light and feathery 
on his shaft, and the sensations created made him 
groan with need. Then Weasel moved down his body, 
giving him light kisses and nips, stopping to lick his 
belly button, then moving slowly but surely to his 
raging hard pole.

Weasel ran her tip of her tongue through his pubic 
hair, and then he felt her breath on his glans, and 
she softly licked it and a shudder ran through him, 
and he groaned again, relaxing into the warmth of her 
mouth around the head. She began a rolling motion with 
her hand, and ran it up and down his swollen shaft, 
letting her saliva dribble down to lubricate her hand 
as she moved it around it. Sam was in a state of 
bliss, not having had this done since before he got 
married, so long ago.

Sam could feel her breasts as they swung against his 
belly, and when he would feel a nipple drag across a 
patch of bare skin, he'd shiver with excitement. Then 
he felt his body respond to her ministrations, and 
started to climb his peak, the fluid bubbling in his 
balls.

Weasel's hand never tired as it moved, and her tongue 
slid across the tip and around it, and the fact she 
never took him fully into her mouth seemed to be even 
more sexier, and before he knew it, Sam was moving his 
hips, and with a loud cry of suppressed need being 
released, he spurted into Weasel's mouth, and she 
surprised him by swallowing, and taking it all, 
spluttering only once as the first jet hit her 
tonsils.

***

The next morning, Weasel got out of bed humming, an 
ugly bruise marring her features, but she remained in 
a good humour, and Sam found himself distracted, 
unable to concentrate, his mind returning time and 
again to the events of the night before, especially 
the time in his bed. Weasel said nothing about what 
happened, and neither did Sam, but it hung in the air, 
and Weasel would smile, a secretive smile, when she 
looked at him.

Finally, at dinner, as they were talking quietly, he 
pushed his plate away, half-finished, and told Weasel 
he had to say something. The young woman told him, 
without looking up, no he didn't, he needed it to 
happen, and to leave it alone.

"If you want to know the truth," she told him, looking 
up at him with a serious look on her face, "I'm amazed 
I've managed to keep my hands off you for this long. 
It was hard for me sometimes, real torture, not to 
join you in your bed!"

Sam sat there, unable to think of anything to say, so 
he remained silent. He was never a good 
conversationalist after the divorce, especially with 
women, although it was his gift of the gab, good looks 
and rugged strength that had attracted Jenny to him. 
He forced her out of his thoughts, feeling the old 
pain stab him.

"I've made up my mind, Sam," Weasel continued, matter-
of-factly. "As soon as this bruising is gone, and the 
doctor tells me I'm fine, you can collect on that old 
debt."

Sam started, remembering the conversation they'd had 
not long after they'd moved into the house.

"And," she said. "You will not back out of doing it." 
She looked into his eyes, and he fell into them, a 
deep pair of green pools of liquid sunshine and love. 
Sam had an epiphany then, realising that he loved this 
amazing young woman. He nodded, and then returned to 
his meal, poking at it, eating slowly, lost in 
thought.

***

Two weeks later, and the swelling and bruising was 
almost gone, just some faint yellowish shadows marred 
the otherwise lovely face of Weasel, who covered it 
with make-up. When she had gone back to school, the 
buddies of the teenage boy who'd hit her were nearly 
lynched when the students saw Weasel's face, and heard 
what had happened.

There was a mass feeling of anger as Weasel, or 
Francesca as she was known at school, went to her 
classes. Some teachers wanted her to go home, some for 
less than sympathetic reasons, and it came to light 
that several girls were treated similarly at home, and 
violence toward women became a much-talked about 
subject in the homes of the townspeople, leading to 
new laws being passed that severely punished those who 
couldn't keep their hands to themselves, most of the 
men the more vocal ones who pressed for the law 
changes!

Sam was in his study, a small room that he'd converted 
to suit his business needs, and he was just thinking 
about making a cup of coffee when Weasel came in with 
one. She put it down near his hand, on a coaster, and 
picked up his empty one. She ran her fingers through 
the hair at the back of his head, and leaned down to 
kiss him on the top of his head.

"Don't be long," she whispered in his ear, then walked 
out of the room.

Sam had been waiting for her to tell him when she'd be 
ready for the long-awaited assignation, and he was 
excited, thrilled, and yet nervous and twitchy about 
the prospect of it happening. He sat there, still and 
unmoving, his gaze unfocussed, his eyes seeing, yet 
not seeing, the computer screen.

He was in two minds about their making love. When he'd 
cared for her back at the old house, he felt more 
protective toward her, as a father would his daughter, 
knowing all the while she wasn't, yet as her watched 
her recover and grow into a lovely, bright, beautiful 
mature young woman, his feelings had changed, and he 
felt more like a big brother toward her than anything, 
despite the fact that they weren't related at all.

Francesca had persuaded him to give her his last name, 
Danby, and as far as anyone in the town knew, they 
were father and daughter, and it was accepted as fact. 
They said and did nothing to change or persuade 
anyone's mind about it, they just went ahead and let 
the people think what they wanted to think.

Sam had made some investments, and they were coming to 
fruition, and so future worries about money wasn't 
even a possibility. The money in their joint bank 
account grew thanks to the interest building up, and 
it looked to both of them that they could retire 
relatively well off, if not wealthy.

Some of the single women in the town had made 
themselves known to him, and Weasel, surprising him, 
had encouraged him to go out on dates, wanting to know 
all the sordid details afterward, and they would laugh 
at her inquisitiveness, however reluctantly he wanted 
to talk about his dates. Sometimes, he would walk in 
the door in the morning, and Weasel, no matter how 
early he'd come home, would be waiting for him, with a 
hot coffee for him, sitting at the kitchen table, 
ready for him to fill her in, and give her the 
details.

***

So Sam sighed, turned off the computer, and had his 
shower, and when he got to his room, Weasel was 
waiting under the covers for him.

***

Sam stood in the middle of the room, and looked at the 
young woman in his bed. She was sitting up, her back 
against the headrest, a pillow behind her for comfort, 
and she was looking right back at him. Both of them 
said nothing. Both of them knew why she was there, and 
both were looking forward to the coming event. Sam 
gazed at her, and she pulled her shoulders back a 
little, pushing her lovely breasts out, inviting him 
to look and admire them.

They had filled out nicely, and they sat on her chest, 
full, round, and tipped by rosy pink puffy nipples, 
which hardened under his hungry gaze. Her skin was 
smooth and pale, her shoulders framed by her chestnut 
hair that had grown, and now hung down to the tops of 
her breasts. Her eyes were smoky with desire, and she 
kept smiling at him, then she moved, and she was 
kneeling on the bed, the blankets falling down and off 
her body, and Sam sucked in his breath, because she 
was glorious in her nakedness.

Sam went from flaccid to hard, and Weasel grinned as 
she watched his manhood grow, and she licked her lips, 
her pink tongue sliding across her lips, causing Sam 
to moan softly as he saw that.

Weasel's waist was slim and curving down to well-
shaped hips, her belly flat and slightly muscular, 
from exercise gained at school sports, which she 
excelled at. Her mons was a little plump, with a 
sparse covering of pubic hair that was the same colour 
as the hair on her head, that curved inward and met in 
the middle. He saw that she kept it trimmed and neat.

Her clitoral hood was showing, and as her desire grew, 
Sam saw her inner lips, and he saw moisture on them. 
That's when the fragrance of her arousal wafted 
through the room, his erect penis twitched, and she 
chuckled throatily when she saw his reaction. Weasel 
held out her arms, so he walked forward, his erect 
member swaying, and after all this time, they were 
finally united, holding each other, kissing, their 
mouths hungrily devouring each other.

She drew him down, still kissing him, his hands 
roaming over her supine body causing her to moan into 
his mouth, then she rolled them both over, and with a 
wicked grin, she knelt by him, and began to run her 
fingernails and hair slowly and lightly over his chest 
and belly, always meeting at his pubic hair on either 
side of his hard tumescence, but never going past that 
line.

Weasel began to kiss his belly, running her tongue in 
small light circles all over it, one hand rubbing his 
thighs and legs, the other his chest, and the effect 
to Sam was amazing, tactile and electric. Then the 
hand on his chest began to roll and lightly pinch his 
nipples, while the other began to rub his erection and 
just barely touch it to stroke it.

Sam was in a world of sexually charged bliss. He went 
to touch Weasel, but she said, "No, not yet!" and 
chuckled throatily again, not once breaking contact 
with his skin. So Sam put his hands under his head, 
and entwined his fingers, leaving her to play him like 
a violin, and he quickly became highly strung, fully 
excited now by the game she was playing, a game he was 
in complete agreement with.

Then she moved, dragging her nose, lips and chin on 
the taught skin of his belly, causing him to hunch up, 
as it tickled, making her almost giggle, then her 
breath was on the tip of his manhood, and for a few 
heartbeats, she stayed there, her cheek on his belly, 
just softly blowing air onto him.

Then the tip of her tongue touched him, and his penis 
jumped, then she had her lips on the tip, not quite a 
kiss, and slowly, oh so incredibly slowly, she took 
him in, as if she were inhaling him with every breath.

Then she began to use her tongue to stroke him, and it 
felt like a caterpillar on him, dancing and wriggling 
as she went lower, then she'd pull her head back a 
little, her tongue still moving, dragging her top 
teeth lightly up his straining penis, then she go back 
down the length, and repeat her actions.

Weasel did this for several minutes, driving him to 
ecstatic heights, and she went further, and lifting 
her leg, straddled his shoulders, and he saw her 
hidden womanly charms for the first time, and he just 
looked at them, marvelling at the sight. 

Her vagina was plump and open, her lips peeking out 
and spread, waiting for his attentions. They were wet 
and slick with her arousal, and the smell of her was 
clean and heady. She gave her hips a wiggle, demanding 
attention, so he raised his head, held her thighs and 
gave her a slow swipe, from her clitoral hood to her 
anus. Weasel clamped her lips shut, and growled at the 
touch. 

She began a suction then, her tongue still moving, and 
he licked and caressed her centre, his tongue moving 
constantly, dipping into her, sliding across her outer 
lips, and she began to move over him, driving herself 
down onto his mouth, and began to give guttural 
grunts, riding his face to her climax.

Suddenly she got off him, and lying on her back, 
gasped, "Enough! Now, Sam, now!"

Sam positioned himself, on a sexual plateau that 
demanded release, and she was glassy-eyed, her face in 
a rictus of desire, holding him at her sopping 
opening, and he drove down, and buried himself in one 
lunge, and Weasel cried out, hunching her hips up at 
him, tears in her eyes, and she was sobbing, "Do it 
now! Please!"

So he began to move, in and out, and she was hunching 
back at him, and for several minutes, or hours, they 
never knew, lost in the desperation of the moment, 
their hips flashing, slapping against each other, 
until Sam could feel his climax approaching, ever 
faster, and Weasel was crying out, riding her own 
pleasurable release, holding him as he slammed into 
her. He could feel her slick tunnel clenching him, 
then with a drawn-out groan of release, he jetted 
himself into her, and she rode him, taking him into 
her body, then he collapsed onto her, both of them 
lying there gasping, spent, covered in sweat.


-= Chapter Three =-

When Sam woke the next morning, he was lying on his 
back, and Weasel was sitting astride him, and he was 
buried in her. She was moving slowly, eyes closed, a 
big grin on her face, and he could feel her snug 
channel as it gripped and slid on him, so soft and 
silky.

"Mmmm, that's nice," he said, feeling warm and 
comfortable, but he also could feel a climax building.

Weasel giggled, and she contracted around him. "Yes it 
is!" she said, smiling. "Nothing like the hair of the 
dog in the morning!"

"Otherwise known as a Morning Glory," Sam told her.

Weasel giggled again, and then her eyes flew open, and 
she was moving faster, panting, riding a climax. That 
set Sam off, and he felt his fluid pour through his 
member, and into her. When they'd calmed down, she 
climbed off him, his flaccid member wet and sticky 
from their juices. She walked to the shower, and as 
she went out the door, Sam saw his seminal fluid 
running down her thigh, and he lay there, smiling, 
feeling at peace.

Then the shower was running, and Weasel called out, 
"Well? Am I going to be in here by myself?"

His feet were on the floor and he was moving before he 
knew it.

***

Wednesday night, and it was pouring with rain outside. 
The weather had changed with a vengeance, and it was 
cold and blustery. The water of the lake, blue and 
cheery a few days ago, was now a dark slate gray, 
white foam-tipped waves were driven by the wind, and 
spray slashed into the air, and looked it freezing and 
uninviting. The wind picked up, and they stood, arms 
around each other, watching the rain turn, going from 
straight down, to tilting sideways.

There was a banging on the door, and looking at each 
other, wondering who'd be out in such weather, Weasel 
went and answered the door, and a wet and bedraggled 
girl stumbled in, took off her raincoat, and it was 
Sonia, one of Weasel's friends from school standing 
there, rubbing her arms, and stamping her feet, trying 
to warm them up.

"Sorry to intrude," she said, "but my parents are away 
for a couple of days, and I was going nuts sitting in 
the house all alone, and I was wondering if I could 
stay here tonight?"

She looked forlorn, and just then, thunder cracked and 
rumbled through the air. Sonia trembled, looking up, 
her wet hair dripping water. 

"Of course you can!" Weasel said. "You can sleep with 
me tonight. Did you get the call from Miss Parsons 
saying school was cancelled for the next couple of 
days because of the storm?" she asked the shivering 
girl.

Sonia replied in the positive, and then Weasel went 
into the kitchen, putting the kettle on, and soon, the 
girl was sitting in the living room, her feet up on 
the couch sitting cross-legged, a hot cup of hot 
chocolate held in her hands, looking out across the 
lake, sipping her drink.

Sam sat at the other end of the couch, and no-one 
spoke for several minutes, everyone lost in their own 
thoughts, until Weasel got up, and took Sonia's hand, 
towing her upstairs to her room. Sam could hear Weasel 
telling the girl to take her clothes off, and to put 
some of hers on, both young women being approximately 
the same size. Some minutes later, there was the sound 
of feminine laughter, and it tinkled in the air, and 
the house became brighter. Weasel came down, and put 
the wet clothes in the drier.

Sam cooked dinner that night, and he'd made an Irish 
stew, adding spices in to flavour it. Sonia was 
impressed, as she'd never seen a man cook before, and 
she oohed and ahhed as she ate, saying the meal was 
delicious, and asked him where he'd learned to cook?

Sam sat there silently before answering, then told her 
quietly that he'd spent some time on the road, and had 
had to learn to cook for himself, then said no more, 
although Sonia looked like she had more questions. 
When Sam wasn't forthcoming, Weasel put her hand on 
her arm, and told her friend that it was a painful 
part of Sam's past, and he didn't like talking about 
it, and with a sympathetic look, Sonia said no more, 
but concentrated on her meal instead. She must have 
liked it, because she went back for seconds, and Sam 
cheered up as he saw that.

"Well, at least I haven't poisoned anyone!" he joked, 
and then they were laughing, and the girls talked 
about school, the weather, the storm, and other 
things, filling the air with chatter, as if to drown 
out the storm outside. Sam sat there watching them, 
proud of his girl as she chatted with her friend, 
drawing her out, and captivating her.

***

They didn't have a television, preferring instead to 
read, and after dinner, Weasel showed her friend their 
small library, accumulated since they'd arrived in 
town, and it sat in a bookcase that Sam had built 
himself. It was floor to ceiling, with seven wide 
shelves, and the subject matter was eclectic.

When Sonia asked why there was a couple of children's 
books there, Weasel told her they were books that 
she'd loved as a child, and when she saw them in the 
second-hand bookstore, she just had to have them, 
reminding her of happier times.

Sonia had seen the bookcase when they were planning 
the party, and when she had been there during it, but 
hadn't paid any attention to it. Now she went through 
the titles, and exclaimed, "I know this book! I've 
read it!"

It was a book about old abandoned houses throughout 
the country, and Sam had bought it, because, amazing 
him and Weasel both, it had a photo of the house they 
had both been in, when they had first met, taken from 
the front of the building. Sonia took it from the 
bookshelf, and brought it over to show them, sat down 
next to Sam, on one side of him with Weasel on the 
other, leafing through it, looking at the photos that 
were on every page.

Sam gently took it from her, asking if he could, so 
she handed it to him, and as he went through it, both 
girls were enraptured as he spoke of the places he'd 
stayed in, and in a quiet voice, lost in his own 
memories, he told them about the various places he'd 
been to, describing in detail the layout of the 
houses, and his time there.

His voice cracked a couple of times, and the two teens 
could hear the pain there as he spoke, and then Weasel 
sat closer to him, holding him, looking up at his 
face, tears beginning to form, and then Sonia was on 
the other side of him, and she, too, was holding him, 
and he was cocooned in an embrace of love and 
understanding, them not knowing the source of his 
grief, but supporting him, silently encouraging him to 
pour it out, and let it go.

In the end, the book was forgotten, and lay open in 
his lap, and Sam hung his head, and cried, so the two 
young women held him tight as he sobbed, and then the 
story of his failed marriage came pouring from him, 
along with the accumulated pain, loss, and festering 
poison he'd carried around with him all this time, and 
when he had finished, he sat there, quietly sobbing, 
and he felt empty, hollow, but at peace, finally.

***

They sat there for an interminable time, saying 
nothing, just holding each other. Sam had put his arms 
around the two girls, and was hugging them, grateful 
for the love and support they'd shown him. They were 
still hugging him back, weeping silently, each 
thinking their own thoughts, searching their own 
memories. It was a new man who finally sat up, and 
scrubbing the tears from his eyes, he announced he was 
sleepy, and surely it must be bedtime?

The pair of sweet smelling angels by his side 
disentangled themselves from him, and taking Sonia's 
hand, Weasel announced they were going to shower, and 
get ready for bed. Sam told them to leave him some hot 
water, otherwise he'd might as well have his shower 
out in the rain, and laughing fit to bust, the girls 
ran up the stairs, and then they were talking, and the 
Sam heard the water running.

Sam was in his room, getting ready for bed, waiting 
for the bathroom, when Weasel came out first, and 
crossed to him, held him close, then kissed him on the 
cheek. She was wearing a tee shirt and panties, the 
tee shirt a concession to modesty now that her friend 
was in the house, and shortly afterward, Sonia came 
out as well, and she was dressed similarly, but 
wearing one of Weasel's tee shirts.

Sonia stood at the door of Sam's bedroom, and she 
stood hipshot, leaning up against the frame. The tee 
shirt didn't quite cover her pubic area, Sam noticing 
she wore a pair of Weasel's panties, pink and almost 
sheer. Sonia was shaved clean, and Sam could see the 
definition of her sex, and his desire began to build, 
having two gorgeous young women in the house with him. 
Sam looked at her figure, and his penis twitched, 
causing Weasel to give a low chuckle. Sonia, with her 
browny-blondish hair that hung free to her shoulders, 
was lithe and slim, her bare legs were long and 
slightly tanned, from spending time outdoors in 
shorts.

Sam could see the tan lines easily, where it bordered 
the white of her hips at the tops of her thighs, and 
her breasts were free of a bra, and hung loose and 
high on her chest, a C cup, and firm. As their eyes 
met, her nipples hardened, pushing through the fabric 
of her shirt. Sonia gave him a secret, interested 
smile. But she stood there saying nothing, waiting for 
Weasel.

Weasel had turned and was looking at Sonia, saw the 
look in her eyes, then she turned back to Sam, 
noticing his gaze, and a calculating look was on her 
face, but she just kissed him again, and left him, 
taking Sonia by the hand, closed his door, and they 
went to bed, leaving him standing there, with a hard-
on in his shorts.

***

Later that night, Sam got up, and opening his door 
quietly, crossed to the bathroom, needing to relieve 
himself, and he noticed in passing that Weasel's 
bedroom door was ajar slightly, and as he was about to 
cross the hallway going back to his room, he heard a 
low moan, and debating whether or not to investigate, 
he took a chance, and peeked through the gap between 
the door frame and door, and what he saw made him hard 
again.

Sonia was nude, and in the low light coming in through 
the window, he saw her lying on her back, her legs 
open, stroking her own breasts and rolling her nipples 
with a couple of fingers, looking down at Weasel, and 
Weasel was between them, her head at the teenager's 
pubic area, and she was busing licking the girl's 
shaven and smooth pussy, and making humming noises, 
causing the prone young woman to gasp, and move her 
hips in a rolling motion.

Then Sonia began to moan quietly, and she was near her 
peak, then Weasel slid a finger into her, moving it, 
and Sonia gave a mewling cry, and thrashed against her 
friend, finally subsiding, then Weasel moved up her 
body, giving little kisses, and Sam saw that she was 
nude as well, then the two young goddesses held each 
other, kissing softly, gently. Sam moved away from the 
door, and quietly shut his own, a little embarrassed 
for invading their privacy.

The next morning, being the man he was, Sam asked 
Weasel if he could talk to her while Sonia was in the 
shower, Weasel having had hers first, and as they 
stood in his room, his door closed slightly to give 
them some privacy, he admitted to Weasel what he had 
done, standing at their door and watching the show of 
love and closeness between the two girls, and asked 
her forgiveness for spying on them.

Weasel stood there for a moment, then threw her arms 
around him, surprising him, and laughed, holding him 
tight. "Oh, you silly man, but I do love you!" she 
said to him. "No forgiveness is necessary! If you 
enjoyed watching us, then I'm glad! I left the door 
open on purpose! I didn't know if you'd see us, but 
secretly, I suppose, I hoped you would." She stepped 
back, and told him they'd talk later about it, and 
told him to get dressed, as breakfast would be ready 
soon, and then walked off, leaving him standing there 
stunned.

They'd put Sonia's wet clothes into the dryer, and she 
was dressed again, and together they ate in silence, 
with Sonia casting furtive glances at Sam. He 
pretended not to notice, then Weasel put her hand on 
Sonia's knee, and the girl jumped, Weasel asking Sonia 
when her parents would be home again.

"Sunday evening," she replied. "They go off 
occasionally for, um, club meetings." But she said no 
more, a blush on her face, and she looked down at her 
breakfast, and continued to eat. Weasel looked at her, 
and said with a casual, "Would you like to stay here 
until they get back?" Sonia looked up, her grey eyes 
meeting Sam's, then looking at Weasel, she blushed 
again, and replied, "Only if it's okay with Sam!" 
before eating again.

Weasel looked at Sam, a naughty grin on her face, and 
Sam smiled, and assured the uncomfortable girl that, 
indeed it was, better than her staying in an empty 
house, and he and Weasel would be glad to have her. At 
that, Weasel choked with laughter, and confused, Sonia 
looked at her, a frown creasing her brows, unsure of 
the joke, or what she had said.

So Sam gave Weasel the car keys, and together the 
girls went to Sonia's house, where she packed a bag, 
and after doing some shopping, returned home, and 
soon, they were all sitting around the living room 
chatting, and reading at the same time.

***

Weasel had convinced Sam to give up smoking, saying he 
stunk, and to shave his moustache off, and told him he 
looked handsome, and with his wide shoulders and trim 
figure, thanks to him working out a local gym, women 
would always stop, or walk past, and give him the 
once-over, some of them not quite drooling. Weasel was 
always proud to be seen in his company, relishing the 
thought that this man with her was hers, and she had a 
slight propreital attitude toward him, and she would 
willingly share him, just so long as he came home to 
her every time.

As mentioned before, Sam had gone out on dates, and 
had to break a couple of hearts when the women he had 
been with would try to get him to come around to their 
way of thinking, and make the arrangement permanent. 
But Sam thought of his girl at home, and knew that she 
wouldn't agree, and tried to part good friends. 
Knowing that he wouldn't bend to their wiles, they let 
him go, and sighed into their pillows each night.

Sam was happy with his arrangement with Weasel, loving 
her in some undefined way, and would hold her, tell 
her he loved her, and she would hug him tight, and say 
she loved him too.

Weasel and Sam had made love a few of times since that 
first night, and they were happy, and would hold each 
other afterward, content. Sam was satisfied to let 
Weasel come to him when she was ready, or feeling 
down, and that led to them to begin making out, then 
they'd be nude, events taking their own course after 
that.

Weasel discovered that Sam loved giving her oral sex, 
and would he spend a long time between her thighs, 
driving her to the peak of orgasm again and again, 
until she would push him away, her hand between her 
legs, which she closed and drew up, and gasp, "Enough! 
I surrender!" but she always welcomed him back to do 
it again.

***

The last time it had happened, Weasel was in her 
chair, wearing only panties, and Sam had silently came 
up to her, and kneeling in front of her, he began 
kissing her knees, and she looked at him, put her book 
down on the floor, and slid down, her panties creating 
a pleasing camel-toe, knowing what he had in mind. Sam 
kissed his way up her thighs, and with Weasel lifting 
her bottom, he slowly slid her panties down, and off, 
and as she parted her legs, she raised herself to give 
him better access to her now wet and hungry sex.

Sam pulled her down until her bottom was on the edge 
of the seat, and began to kiss the inside of her 
thighs, swapping from one to the other, her legs wide 
open and off the floor. Weasel was beginning to gasp, 
her skin alive with his light kisses, and Sam used his 
tongue to lightly lick her, flicking at her epidermis 
like a snake, causing goosebumps to raise on her naked 
flesh.

Her aroma was heady and exciting, sweet and fresh. Sam 
moved his mouth closer to her wet and open lips, which 
were like a flower, pink and aroused from expectation. 
He ran his tongue slowly up from her anus to her clit, 
Weasel giving a cat-like meow as he did so. Then he 
went back and did it again, then again, then he dipped 
his head, and ran his tip of his tongue around her 
sphincter, making Weasel writhed on the chair, gasping 
and panting, jerking her hips, wanting him to go 
higher to her clitoris, but he stayed there, his 
tongue driving her into a frenzy of desire, gently 
penetrating her.

Then when she was almost going crazy from his 
attentions, and her anus was very wet from his saliva 
and her secretions, he moved up to her clit, stroking 
her outer and inner lips with his tongue as he went, 
spending some time on them, and when he stroked his 
tongue over her clit forcefully, he slid a finger into 
her back passage, and Weasel reared up and screamed in 
orgasm, thrashing as he licked her clit, putting 
pressure on her nubbin, moving his finger slowly in 
her nether region, sliding it in and out, rotating it 
as he did so.

Then he withdrew his finger, and Weasel groaned in 
disappointment, but he slid a finger into her slick 
vaginal tunnel, and his fingertip found her hidden 
spot, Weasel arching her back as he manipulated it. As 
she began to close in on her release, he re-inserted 
another finger into her anus, and the combined 
feelings of the two fingers moving in her drove her 
over the edge, and she bucked and wailed as her climax 
powered through her body.

***

She sat there, her chest heaving, her breasts rising 
and falling as she tried to get her breath back. Sam 
still had his fingers inserted in her, feeling her 
muscles contracting around them. Weasel was a mess. 
Her hair was wild and mussed, from where she'd tossed 
her head back and forth against the chair back, and 
her green eyes glittered at him feverishly.

Her chest had pink fingermarks on it where she had 
grabbed her own breasts, and they were fading as he 
watched. Weasel had put her legs back down on the 
floor to support herself, and as he slowly withdrew 
his fingers, she moaned, and her hips twitched. Sam 
handed her her panties, and asked Weasel if she was 
thirsty, and would she like something to drink? She 
gave a crooked grin, and told him yes, and so he left 
her there to pull herself back together, and she had 
to try twice to put the panties on, before they were 
once again around her waist, snug on her.

As Sam made the drinks, Weasel got up, and on weak 
legs, tottered up to the bathroom. She took a while, 
and when she returned, she was looking presentable 
again, she went to him and hugged him, and hummed into 
his chest before releasing him, and picking up her hot 
drink, sat back down on her chair, and with a smile on 
her face, picked up her book, and began to read again, 
but glancing his way occasionally. She raised her leg, 
her foot resting on the edge of the chair, and lightly 
stroked herself, and hummed softly.

Sam lay on the couch, reading as well, but he too, had 
a smile on his face, and pretended ignorance.

***

That night, both young women were in panties and tees, 
Weasel having persuaded Sonia to dress that way after 
their shower together, saying that's how she normally 
dressed when it was just Sam and herself in the house. 
Weasel didn't tell her that that wasn't really the 
case, but she told her the lie to protect her friend. 
When Sonia asked, Weasel told her that Sam was cool 
with it, and that he wouldn't throw her to the floor 
and rape her.

So, in some trepidation, Sonia stood before Sam, 
feeling a little self-conscious, and as soon as Sam 
smiled, and told her to sit down and relax, she 
gathered her courage, and did so. After a while, 
seeing that Sam wasn't going to turn into a sex-crazed 
monster, Sonia became relaxed, and was talking to 
Weasel, sitting on her hip, leaning her weight on her 
arm and hand, looking at some old records that Sam had 
collected, and telling Sam she'd never heard of the 
artists, but did remember some of the songs from the 
radio.

Sam told her that if she wanted to, she could put some 
on and listen to them if she wanted, and with great 
care, she did play a few. The sounds of fifties, 
sixties, and seventies Rock 'n Roll filled the house, 
and soon, the girls got up, and egging each other on, 
began to dance, mimicking the movements of long 
almost-forgotten dances, gyrating their hips and 
swaying, giggles filling the air, and having a ball. 
Sam sat there watching them, so they ganged up on him, 
dragging him protesting to join them, they giggled, 
squealed, and laughed at his antics, as he hadn't 
danced for years, and was out of practice.

Then the records were changed, one with slow dances 
this time, the record being love songs, first Weasel 
danced with Sam, they were holding each other, and 
dancing slow and close, moving together, then when the 
song had ended, Weasel told Sonia to dance with Sam, 
and blushing, she moved into his arms, and together, 
they too moved slowly, and then Sonia sighed, and 
suddenly, the two were kissing, still swaying gently, 
her hand behind his head, drawing him down to her 
waiting and parted lips, her eyes closed.

When the song ended, Sonia had a glazed look in her 
eyes, and then she started, and realising what she'd 
done, was horrified, apologising profusely to Sam and 
then to Weasel, hugging her friend, blushing deep 
crimson with mortification. Weasel just smiled at her, 
and said, "You didn't kiss me, although I wouldn't 
have minded, but as Sam was the one you kissed, 
shouldn't you go to him, and make it up to him?"

Sonia stood there, and the import of Weasel's words 
dawned on her, and she blushed again, and darting a 
shocked look at Sam, she said to the grinning girl, 
"He knows? Did you tell him? Oh my God!"

Sam took pity on the poor girl, and told her about 
last night, how he'd accidently saw them making love, 
causing Sonia to cry, and bury her head in her hands, 
pleading with him not to tell anybody, knowing how 
that would ruin her reputation at school.

But Sam smiled, and taking her hands in his, told her 
gently that he'd no intention of telling anyone, and 
that what she and Weasel did together was no-one's 
business, but their own, and as far as he was 
concerned, if they wanted to make love here in the 
house, he was fine with it, as everyone had their own 
secrets, flashing a look at Weasel, who nodded, and 
they both hugged her.

***

More records were put on, but the volume was turned 
down, and they sat around talking, having a three-way 
conversation, and enjoying each other's company. The 
Weasel turned to Sonia, and asked her what kind of 
club her parents were in, and why wasn't she with 
them?

It was asked as a genuine question, and Sonia was 
silent for a couple of minutes, looking down at the 
floor. Weasel apologised for being nosy, and asked her 
friend to forgive her. But Sonia looked into her eyes, 
and told her that, although it was a family secret, 
she would share it with them, but they had to promise 
never to tell anyone they knew, especially her 
parents, as something like this could ruin them in 
this town.

It sounded serious, so they promised, and Sonia went 
quiet, then in a low voice, she told them, "Mom and 
Dad are in a swinger's club. That's where they are 
now," out-of-town, and she didn't go with them, 
because she was feeling a bit down, and told them to 
go without her this time.

When Weasel asked her what a swinger's club was, 
thinking it was old-time dancing, having the same name 
and connotations, Sam explained it to her, saying that 
it was a sex club. "And they did their dancing in a 
different way!"

Weasel's eyes went wide, and excitedly said, "Wow, 
really? No shit!"

Sonia laughed at her expression, relaxing again, 
seeing her best friend and, what she still assumed was 
her father, looking at her with interest, and not 
judging her, or her parents for their life-style 
choices.

"I was thirteen when I found about it," Sonia told 
them. "I had gone through puberty early, I had 
breasts, and I was always horny, and I would 
masturbate all the time. I could never understand why 
my parents always sent me to bed, but let my older 
brother stay up, especially when out-of-town friends 
would stay over. They kept it pretty secret, and if 
their own daughter didn't know what they got up to, 
then you can bet, no-one else knew either!"

***

She continued, "I was lying in bed one night, and I'd 
masturbated, but I wasn't feeling satisfied. I tossed 
and turned, so I decided to get up, and see what there 
was in the fridge to eat, thinking food would do the 
trick. As I barged into the living room, Mom was on 
her back on the floor, my older brother, who was 
seventeen at the time, was between her legs, and I saw 
his hips moving, and Mom was moaning under him, and 
she was pushing back at him. My dad was on his knees, 
and his penis was in Mom's mouth, and she was sucking 
on him. He groaned, and spurted into her mouth, but 
some hit her face, but she laughed, and scooped it 
into her mouth, licking her lips."

"Then my brother groaned, and he shot into Mom, and 
she cuddled him, and told him what a big strong man he 
was. You can bet I was shocked, and I wanted to run 
away, but my pussy was sooo wet watching them, I just 
walked over to them, and they jumped in fright. My 
brother and Dad covered themselves, but Mom lay there, 
my brother's goo running out from her, and she 
laughed, and said, "Oops, the cat was out of the bag!"

"That's when they told me what they were doing. They'd 
been having sex with my brother since he was thirteen, 
when Mom caught him masturbating, and he was drawn 
into their circle of friends, because he's a little, 
um, 'bigger', shall we say, than the average, and he's 
a favourite with the ladies. He's also bisexual, so 
Dad got his cock sucked by his son a few times!"

"A couple of days later, they had another session, and 
this time I was invited to participate. Well, I had to 
be, didn't I? Maybe they thought I'd tell, but I was 
getting the shape I am now, and I was really horny all 
the time, and so of course I agreed. When I was asked 
who did I want to do the deed, I chose my father, as 
Dennis's cock looked really huge!"

Sonia saw the look on Weasel's face, half interest, 
and half lust. She told the teen girl, "He may be big, 
but take my word for it, he certainly knows how to use 
it!"

***

She laughed, and then they all were. Weasel had a 
calculating look in her eye, and Sam smiled, knowing 
that now her interest was roused, not to mention 
another part of her, as he could catch a faint whiff 
of her arousal, and her nipples had gone hard, she'd 
be sure to find out.

Sam had seen Sonia's parents from a distance, and her 
Mom was a knock-out. She stood about five-six, and had 
shoulder length honey blonde hair, a lovely face, with 
a slim shapely figure, with mature breasts the sat 
high in her chest, but whether that was because of her 
bra, he didn't know. Her father was tall, good-
looking, dark haired, and had a trim figure for a man 
in his late forties. Sam had never seen Dennis, 
figuring him to be at college.

"Well, anyway," Sonia continued, and Sam caught a 
whiff of arousal from her as well, "they spent some 
time with me, telling me about the swinger's club, 
that only family members were allowed, and only single 
men if they had been invited, and related to someone 
there. We had all showered, Mom washing me and 
preparing me for my first time, which I'm grateful 
for, and then we were all nude in the living room. Dad 
and Dennis sat on the couch, and both were hard, and I 
had a hard time concentrating on what they were saying 
to me, as I couldn't keep my eyes off their pricks!"

She giggled, and Weasel was looking flushed, and her 
fingers kept straying into her panties. Sam was 
growing hard, listening to her speak, and his 
imagination was running riot with images.

"Dad was gentle with me. He got me to sit on the 
couch, laying back, with my legs in the air, and then 
him, Mom, and Dennis took turns to lick me, and they 
wouldn't let me cum! Every time I thought I was going 
to, they'd stop, let me calm down, and then another 
one would start on me. I was so horny, I was almost 
crying for release before Dad knelt between my legs, 
and with Mom holding him, and Dennis sucking on my 
nipples, Dad slowly entered me. I was so ready, he 
slipped in, and I didn't even feel my cherry being 
broken. As soon as he was deep inside me, I came! Oh, 
my God! It was long, strong and it nearly tore me 
apart! I think I even fainted from it. I was clutching 
my father, and he was moving in me, and I couldn't let 
him go, even if the house had burned down around us!"

She looked at Sam, and her eyes strayed to his crotch, 
where she could see his stiff erection, and licked her 
lips. Weasel had, by this time, finally put her hand 
into her panties, her fingers rubbing herself 
furiously, her eyes glazed, her legs wide.

Sonia reached over, and freed Sam's rampant tumescence 
from his jeans, and Sam lifted his butt. Sonia pulled 
his jeans down to his ankles, and she began to stroke 
him.

"After that," Sonia went on, "I was always with them 
when people would come to stay, and even when they 
didn't. Dad was a patient teacher, and Dennis was a 
superb lover, having many ladies, and some men, to 
teach him! Mom and my Aunt Shirley taught me how to 
lick pussy, and I found that I loved the taste! I 
enjoy getting, and giving!"

Then unable to stop herself, Sonia dipped her head, 
and took Sam into her mouth, her tongue working on 
him. He was so horny from her story, he didn't last 
long, and within a couple of minutes, groaned, "I'm 
coming!" and Sonia was taking more of him, and he 
blasted into her mouth, and felt her swallowing, the 
pleasure from that making him almost pass out.

Weasel then grabbed Sonia, and their clothing was 
flying through the air, and then the two nude young 
women were in a sixty-nine, and the smell of arousal 
wafted through the house, and their cries as they 
pleasured each other rang in the air, finally rising 
to a crescendo as the attained their peaks, and they 
climaxed into each other's faces.

***

Both nude young women were lying on their backs, 
drowsy from their climaxes, and Sam lay back on the 
couch, his jeans still around his ankles. Weasel told 
him he might as well get naked, being the odd man out, 
so he stripped, and Sonia looked at him with interest. 
Sonia raised herself up on her elbows, and asked 
Weasel what her first time was like. Her eyes hooded, 
and she looked like she wasn't going to answer, but 
she sat up with a groan, and after making herself 
comfortable, she looked at the nude teenager next to 
her, said, "I was raped by my father when I was eight. 
I didn't enjoy that very much!"

Sonia went pale, and whipping her head around to look 
at Sam, who looked as angry as she felt, she gasped, 
"You didn't! My God, Sam, a child! What kind of 
monster does that to his own child?"

She'd scooted away from him, and looked at him like he 
was a disgusting creature, afraid of him. Weasel 
laughed, and told the horrified girl that he didn't. 
He wasn't her father, so she shouldn't look at him and 
judge him like that. Sonia's head kept turning between 
the two of them, confused.

"But, we all think he's your father! What did he do, 
kidnap you?"

"No, nothing that extreme, though it might have been 
better if he had. It's a long story, but when I was 
eleven, my father gave me to my uncles, all five of 
them, some my Dad's brothers, and some my Mom's, and 
they used me, and none of them were gentle. It was 
pure hell!"

"My mother knew all about it, but as long as they did 
her as well, she said nothing. There was an orgy most 
nights when my Mom came home from work, and the men 
were always horny. There was no escape from them."

Weasel had a far-away look in her eyes, and she said, 
"No school, no playing with my friends outside, no 
playing in the park, just constant rape and sex."

Then in a quiet even tone, Weasel told the horrified 
teen all about the robbery and the consequences, 
leading up to her starvation, hiding in the car from 
the wild dogs and the rats, and her trying to rob Sam, 
just so she could eat again, the fight, and her being 
knocked unconscious. She told Sonia about Sam's 
helping her when he didn't have to, he could have just 
left her there to die, and walked away, she said. But 
he'd cared for her, she told the young woman, looking 
at Sam with love and tears in her eyes, and she told 
the weeping girl about their flight north, and how 
they came to be here.

By the time she'd finished, both teens were crying, 
clutching each other, so Sam got up, and made hot 
chocolates for them all. The storm of weeping 
subsided, and then silence reigned in the house, with 
Sonia constantly reaching out to her friend and 
stroking her arm, in comfort.


-= Chapter Four =-

Dinner was take-out, and Sam put on a pair of pants to 
pay for the pizza's, then as soon as the door was 
closed, and the pizza's given to the girls, the pants 
came off, and they ate, nude and comfortable with 
their state of undress.

Weasel looked serene, as if the weight of her past had 
been washed away somehow, and Sam knew exactly how she 
felt. The festering poison was gone now, and they were 
both were bonded by their pasts, by their confessions 
of it, laying themselves bare, and had been found 
loved in spite of it, but it was that their pasts were 
gone, washed away in tears, there was only the now 
that mattered, a new life waiting to be lived.

Sonia had apologised profusely to Sam for how she'd 
acted, and what she said. She was forgiven, as it was 
said and done in error, no hard feelings, to which 
Sonia replied, "not yet!" causing them to all laugh at 
the innuendo.

Then dinner was over, and they sat a while longer in 
the living room talking, and then, with a look of 
mischief, both girls converged on Sam, and the 
festivities resumed. Sonia pushed Sam to his back, 
while Weasel took his limp penis into her mouth, and 
began to lick and suck him, getting a rise out of him 
in a short time, not that he was adverse to this 
beautiful teen willing to do that for him.

Sonia lifted her leg over his head, straddling his 
shoulders, and he looked at her shaven smooth sex, wet 
now, and waiting for his tongue to pleasure it. 
Sonia's lips were pouty, pink and opening up for him. 
He gave her moistness a swipe with his tongue, and she 
hissed, then she lowered herself down further, 
spreading her knees, and leaning forward rested her 
weight on her arms, looking him in the eye as he 
started to lick and nibble on her clitoral hood, and 
button. Sonia stated to move against his mouth, and 
Sam stuck out his tongue, giving her a deep lick, 
ending at her nubbin, making Sonia shudder in 
delicious abandon.

So Sam let loose, holding her by the thighs, and 
rubbing and massaging her tight rear end, his tongue 
thrashing the teenaged girl above him, making her 
shake and shudder, gasping, trying desperately to stay 
upright, which was hard for her to do, when, as she 
would straighten up, Sam thrashed her clit, making her 
cry out, and double over again.

She stayed hunched over finally, and then she was 
crying out, one hand on her breasts, pinching and 
rolling her nipples, and Sonia was jerking 
convulsively as her orgasm hit her with powerful 
jolts. Her eyes were closed, and she made a high-
pitched keening sound, and then she fell forward, 
making Sam roll her out of the way, his turgid member 
popping free from Weasel's mouth.

Sonia lay on her side, and she had her knees pulled up 
to her chest in a foetal position, and she was giving 
little shudders, and when they subsided, she opened 
one eye, and groaned, "Oh my God! Where the hell have 
you been all my life?"

She pushed herself weakly to a sitting position, and 
shook her head, saying softly, "Mom and Aunt Shirley 
would love you for what you just did! They'd keep you 
chained in the house, just to ride that tongue of 
yours!"

Sonia laughed, and Weasel and Sam just smiled at her 
as she slowly recovered.

***

Weasel had taken him in hand again, and resumed her 
ministrations, then Sonia asked if she could have him, 
wanting to know if "his cock was as good as his 
tongue!"

Weasel took her mouth off him, and with a wide smile 
waved her hand at it, as if to say, "Help yourself!"

Sonia lay down, and spread her legs, rubbing her clit 
with her fingers, and told Sam to climb aboard, the 
train was about to leave! He knelt between her legs, 
and with Weasel holding him, and pointing his erection 
at the teen's opening, touching it with the glans, he 
leaned in, and penetrated her easily, sliding forward 
into her wet snug slickness, making them both groan.

Sonia raised her legs, opening them wider, and bent 
her knees, then began to hunch at Sam, who drove down 
into her, again and again, making her gasp, then pant 
heavily. Their sexual excitement escalated, and the 
sound of their bodies slapping against each other was 
the only noise to be heard. Then they started to grunt 
and groan, feeling their respective climaxes race upon 
them, and then they were just two rutting animals, 
with feral looks on their faces, almost snarling at 
each other, and there was screaming, but it seemed to 
come from outside themselves, and with a lurching in 
the air around the two lovers, they were climaxing 
against each other, and slowly, weakly, they ground to 
a halt, finally collapsing.

Sonia held the gasping sweat-soaked man on top of her 
around the neck with both arms, and weakly told 
Weasel, "That's it, I'm moving in! I wanna share!"

Weasel just laughed, and pulled them apart, letting 
them recover from their exertions.

***

Both girls spent the night in Sam's bed that night, 
after they'd all showered, the shower being just big 
enough to hold the three of them, and they laughed and 
giggled as they fooled around and washed each other 
down. Sam's hands were everywhere, and so were the 
teens, and the water finally went lukewarm, and they 
all looked wrinkled when Sam finally shut the water 
off.

Then the drying process took a long time, as the 
towels kept getting ripped out of the hands using 
them, causing more laughter. Then they were in bed, 
but no matter how hard the girls tried, Sam was 
exhausted, and promised to do better next time, and 
they told him they were going him to hold that, so 
watch out!

So the two girls decided to give him a show, and he 
was interested, but never went past half-hard. In the 
end, they wrapped themselves against him, and with the 
clean smell of the two girls in his nose, Sam slept.

***

That Monday, Weasel came home from school, and 
mentioned to Sam that they needed cell-phones, so they 
can keep in contact, 'just in case,' so they went 
shopping, and found a matching pair, and were signed 
up for the contracts, and spent an enjoyable evening 
learning how to use them, sending outrageous texts to 
each other, causing them to erupt in laughter as they 
got more raunchy.

Then that Friday, Weasel received a message from 
Sonia, telling them that there was a 'gathering' at 
her place the next night, Saturday, her parents wanted 
to meet them, and to come 'prepared for anything!' 
They looked at each other, and they both knew that the 
'anything' could be them invited into the club. Sam 
and Weasel actually looked forward to it, and looked 
forward to meeting Sonia's parents as well.

Sonia had texted Weasel her address, so at eight 
o'clock the next night, they were at the door, and 
before they knocked, Sam asked Weasel if she was ready 
for this? She took a deep breath, and knocked. A few 
moments later, a stunning honey blonde-haired woman 
opened the door, and beside her was a tall 
distinguished man, a little grey at the temples, but 
looking slim and fit.

The man greeted them, and introduced himself as Allan 
Weatherby, and the woman as his wife, Elaine, and 
welcomed them into their home. As they were going into 
the living room, Allan told them that their daughter 
had told them about the pair, and they were impressed 
to hear that their daughter got along so well with 
them.

When they got to the living room, there was about a 
dozen people gathered there, with drinks in their 
hands, and all conversation stopped as they entered 
the room. Most of the people there had masks of 
different sizes and shapes on, but Sam and Weasel 
didn't appear fazed by them, so they were led to the 
center of the room, and most of the people sat down, 
but they were made to stand there, the focus of 
attention.

Elaine sat down, and she said, "Myself, Allen, and 
Sonia you know," and Sonia smiled, "This young man 
here is my son, Dennis." Dennis, a striking self-
assured young man of twenty-one, leaned forward in his 
seat, his gaze on Sam.

He smiled, and said, "Pleased to meet you both. 
Welcome to our house!" Then he leaned back and Elaine 
continued to speak.

"I will not introduce anyone else, because tonight is 
a test for you both. Sonia has told us that you are 
father and daughter, and that you have a, shall we 
say, 'unique' relationship?"

Sam looked at Weasel, and she smiled at him, trusting 
him completely to handle the situation. Then he turned 
back to the lady of the house, and said, "Francesca is 
my daughter, and we love each other deeply. We share 
most things."

"Of course you do," Elaine said. "As I mentioned 
earlier, tonight is a test for you both. Should you 
pass it, you will be trusted members of this 
gathering, and your life shall never be the same 
afterward. Should, however you fail, you will be asked 
to leave, and never set foot in this house again, 
although Sonia may come and visit you both, anytime 
she pleases."

***

They didn't say anything, just waited, and Elaine 
nodded, and said, "Very well. Please disrobe, both of 
you."

Without a word, Sam and Weasel removed their clothing, 
until both were nude in front of the Weatherby's and 
their guests. Then after a moment or two, with Dennis 
fixing a hungry gaze on Sam's penis, Elaine said, 
"Now, Francesca, suck on your father, please."

Weasel went to her knees, and turning Sam so that he 
was side-on to the watching group, she leaned in, and 
took his flaccid member into her mouth, and created a 
suction, pulling her head back, stretching him, then 
leaning forward again, and repeating the process, 
until Sam was hard, she began to swirl her tongue 
around his swollen glans, bobbing her head, running 
her tongue up and down his length, doing this for 
several minutes. Sam groaned, and so did a few of the 
others there, men and women both.

"Now, Sam," Elaine said, "I want you to lick your 
daughter, please."

Weasel stood, and with his hard maleness swinging, Sam 
helped Weasel to the floor, and going down on his 
stomach, causing several spectators to stand and 
approach for a better look, Sam went up on his elbows, 
holding Weasel's legs open with his hands, gazed upon 
Weasel's wet vagina, and leaned into her, and then he 
began to lick her outer lips softly, applying more 
pressure on them gradually, them moving to her inner 
lips, he lavished attention on them, then moved up to 
her clit, and she cried out and bucked under his 
mouth, but he didn't let up, driving her,  propelling 
her toward a climax.

Then just before Weasel did climax, Elaine said, her 
voice slightly husky, "Now Sam, I want you to mount 
your daughter. Fuck her."

Sam didn't wait to be told twice. He moved between her 
legs, which Weasel pulled high in the air, and bending 
her knees, looked at him, her green eyes glazed, and 
glittering with need. Sam forgot everyone around him, 
and placing his turgid member at her opening, and 
Weasel hissed "Yes, do it!" So he steadied himself, 
and plunged into her, putting his weight on his hands 
and arms, and she cried out and held him as he moved 
in her, the sound of gasps and applause around them. 
Then moving faster, the rode each other toward climax. 
Then there was a glorious explosion of energy as they 
climaxed. Then they lay back, sated, and panting from 
their exertions.

There was another round of applause, and Elaine and 
Sonia came over to them, helping them up and a couple 
of female members were wiping them down with towels, 
their masks gone, and they were smiling, and 
introducing themselves as Debbie and Janelle, mother 
and daughter, long time members of the group. Both 
women were beautiful, and after they had made sure the 
pair were fine, the two women moved away, and began to 
undress. When they were naked, they began to kiss and 
fondle each other, their hands between each other 
legs. A drink was given to them and they sat down, 
gathering their strength.

***

Dennis came up to Sam, and began talking to him, just 
making conversation, they watched the various members 
of the gathering undressing and begin to have sex. 
Sam's attention was taken by a girl, probably as young 
as fourteen, moving to sit on the hard penis of a man 
of at least forty. "That's Dave and Isabella Morton," 
Dennis said. "Father and daughter, like you and 
Francesca."

Then more people were in the stages of love-making, 
and the sound of gasps and groans were heard, and the 
musky odour of female arousal and male hormones became 
strong, and then Dennis asked Sam, that "if he 
'weren't up to it at the moment', would he mind if he 
could he make Francesca's acquaintance?"

Sam gave his permission, and so Dennis undressed, and 
Sonia wasn't kidding! The member between Dennis's legs 
was a massive brute, and easily as thick as his wrist, 
he guessed. When Dennis stood in front of Weasel, she 
felt him there, and when she turned her head to see 
who it was, she was 'eye to eye' with his rampant 
member, and she recoiled, and gave a squeal of 
surprise. That caused several women to laugh, one 
telling the stunned girl, "That's how she reacted the 
first time she saw it!"

Dennis just smiled, and tentatively, Weasel reached 
out to touched it, and she found she couldn't get her 
fingers around the girth of it, and a big smile lit up 
her face, and she leaned in, licked the tip, and tried 
to take it into her mouth, but she had open her jaws 
wide to fit it in. "That's the way, Francesca!" one of 
the women said to the struggling girl. "It may take a 
few tries, but it does get easier!" causing general 
laughter.

Just then, a small brunette in her mid-twenties came 
up to Sam, and introducing herself as Angela, knelt 
between Sam's legs, placed her arms and hands on his 
thighs, and taking him into her mouth, proceeded to 
suck on him. After recently making love to Weasel, Sam 
found himself getting hard, and soon he was enjoying 
the sensations of her mouth and tongue. Then Angela 
climbed into his lap, and impaled herself on him, 
riding him, and throwing her head back, and panting 
and moaning.

***

Then Sam heard Weasel give a loud moan, and she was 
trying to fit Dennis's engorged member inside her, and 
she could only fit a few inches, but the girl was sure 
doing her best! Weasel was on the couch next to Sam, 
and she got Dennis to move slowly into her, laying on 
her back, her legs in the air, and Dennis was kneeling 
there, not putting any weight on her, and he was 
trying to be as gentle as he could, which earned him 
Sam's respect.

She was stretched wide, and trying to fit more, but he 
could only manage half-in, so Weasel made do with 
that, and her eyes were wide open, and she was panting 
heavily. She turned her head to look at Sam, but 
couldn't speak, she just gave him a lopsided grin, 
then her eyes crossed, and she groaned in pleasure, 
giggling afterward. She was drunk on cock, and loved 
it!

Then Dennis began to move in and out of Weasel, and 
she hunched herself at him, and soon they had a rhythm 
going, and Weasel began to make high pitched noises, 
then she gave a strangled scream as she came, tears in 
her eyes from happiness. Sam ejaculated into Angela 
after she came on him, but surprisingly, he remained 
hard.

As Angela climbed off him, and thanked him, Dennis 
looked at Sam's hard-on, and told him the drinks were 
lightly spiked with an aphrodisiac, which surprised 
Sam, because he'd heard of them, but didn't believe 
they'd actually worked! His turgid member was witness 
that this one apparently did!

Then Dennis gave a groan of his own, and pulled out of 
Weasel, her stretched young sex making a slurping 
sound as he exited, causing her to giggle again, and 
then Dennis ejaculated over her breasts and belly, a 
copious amount that ran everywhere. There were towels 
everywhere, so she took one, and wiped herself off and 
mopped up the semen on the couch. Dennis kissed her 
and went into the arms of another woman, and then he 
was buried in her, and the woman was moaning loudly as 
he slid in and out her.

Sam sampled a couple of more willing ladies, and 
Weasel had a couple of men, with one woman licking her 
pussy and cleaning her up with her tongue, giving 
Weasel a mind-bending climax, then feeling almost done 
in, Weasel came over to Sam, and told him she still 
had one more hole to stretch, and the vulgarity got 
him interested, so she sucked on him, getting his 
member wet, and then climbing over him, placed the 
head of his hard-on at her back passage, and slowly 
sat down, and they both moaned in unison, and she gave 
a hushed indrawn breath as he slid into her.

Weasel slid up and down on him, and she grasped him, 
her head against his neck. She was moaning, and the 
feel of her ass muscles as they clenched him was 
overpowering ,and together, they moved in unison, 
slowly, lovingly, and then Weasel began to kiss him, 
her tongue writhing in his mouth, and then Sam could 
feel another climax coming, a big one, and Weasel 
began to move faster, and as he groaned loudly and 
ejaculated into her, she whimpered, and clenched him 
tight, holding him still, and he could feel her 
shudder.

They called it quits after that, both of them too 
tired to continue, and the Weatherby's saw them to 
their car, and wished then good night, and promised to 
let them know when the next gathering was, if they 
were interested. They promised to make it.

When Sam and Weasel had showered, a slow shower, 
because they were both so tired, they staggered into 
Sam's bed, and laying together, Weasel turned to Sam, 
and before they fell asleep, Weasel said, "I love you. 
Goodnight, Daddy!"

***

That's it, folks! Thanks for reading, and have 
yourselves a good one!

Next story on its way soon!

Timberwolf.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
The author does not condone child abuse, this story is 
meant as an erotic fantasy not depicting anything in 
real life. Anyone acting out such scenarios in "real 
life" can look forward to many unproductive years 
getting it up the butt by a fellow convict in their 
local prison system.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 75