Chapter 14

Randy took off with the guys and Amy pulled Donna and Anita out of their booths -- AFTER Toby briefed her on the goings-on. "I'm surprised -- Anita started shaky, but that was because she wasn't prepared for anything black. Don't tell Randy, though -- he's REAL touchy... Everybody else basically went wild!"

"Great! I'll take over..." Releasing Donna and Anita, she asked, "So, how did it go?"

Donna looked embarrassed. "I'm glad I was in there," she related, "I went crazy!"

"Well, nobody knows," Amy said, smiling. Turning, she questioned Anita with her eyes.

"I did okay," Anita mused. "There was a black guy -- I wasn't ready for that. I think I made him mad."

"I KNOW you did!" Donna erupted, "But things settled down. What happened?"

"I don't know. It was just... He was black, you know?"

"Black guys are just guys," Donna opined.

"So you would date one?" Anita pressed.

"The group is kind of colorblind," Amy interjected. "There are several interracial couples. We can work around it to an extent if you're a guest, but if you ever buy into being a full member, you're gonna have sex with black guys."

Anita nodded, clearly bothered. "Well, I sucked one."

"Did it hurt you?" Donna prompted.

"No."

"Just don't pick one to date, then."

Anita nodded and changed the subject, "Is there someone in the other booth?"

"Yes," Amy nodded, "but she prefers to be anonymous, for now."

"Well, la te da!" Donna snorted. "Whatever. I've seen what I need to -- THAT's for sure! I want to be here Friday night!"

"Me, too!" Anita echoed.

"How far do you plan to go?" Amy asked. "Want to stay in a booth, or do you want to work the floor?"

"I don't see me getting a guy from inside a hole," Donna replied. "I'll work the floor."

"Ummm, that's naked, except for a mask..." Amy pointed out.

"Jeez, that might not work, either!"

"It'll work," Amy assured her. "We can look at the dark room thing if you like, but I'd risk it if I were you. You, too, Anita."

"I'll think about it," Anita mused.

"Have a decision ready Friday night," Amy warned. Both girls nodded. Outside, a horn beeped. "That's your ride." She ushered the pair upstairs and into the van.

Once they were away, she returned for Misha. "How did it go?" she asked, releasing the short girl.

"I guess I could always have a career sucking dicks," Misha muttered, smiling wanly. "I had a REAL good time!"

"Well, there you go, then!" Amy smiled. "Convinced?"

Misha nodded. "I'll be back."

"What will you do?"

"Can I wear, like, six inch 'fuck me' shoes?"

Amy shrugged. "If you can find any."

"I'll look. I might start in a hole, but I want to, ummm, enjoy myself, if I can find a guy."

Amy grinned. "Being naked and willing changes the standards. You might not attract guys on the street, but I guarantee you you'll get interest naked."

"If I can GET naked," Misha mused.

"Practice. Do it in front of a mirror, or something. Everybody ELSE will be naked -- even the guys!"

"Okay."

"Let's go."

In the van, Anita questioned Donna, "You'd date a black guy?"

"Anita, there are a LOT of nice black guys!" Donna replied. "What's the problem?"

"Well, they, you know, they get you pregnant and walk away -- and people call you a slut, and..."

Donna snorted. "That's stereotypes."

"It HAPPENS!"

"Okay, sure, it happens. But in our town, it's not like there are huge ghettos. Black guys are white guys with dark skins."

"Some of them aren't!"

"Well, you're right -- but on the football team? Those guys don't have to do the hood thing to get by," Donna pointed out.

"I still couldn't!"

"Then don't," Donna replied. "You don't have to. I'm going to take mine on a case-by-case basis."

"What about that guy at the booths?"

"Don't you get it? He was pissed because SOMEBODY acted like he was a second-class citizen! Actually, maybe it was more than one person -- but you started it! That guy wasn't some hood nigger -- and he got treated like crap. If he wants me to suck him again, I'll do it."

"Would you fuck him?"

"Yeah, probably. I don't think he's my type, but I'd be willing to try him out."

"You ARE a slut!" Anita laughed. "I'd suck him again -- and I'd do a good job -- but I don't think I want any more of him than that. He's really angry, for one thing."

"Well, he probably has good reason," Donna retorted.

Randy, listening over the intercom, sighed. He'd let his temper get the better of him again. If white girls didn't want to date him because he was black, that bothered him -- but if they didn't want to because he was an asshole, he couldn't blame them...

Arriving at the school, he told the girls over the intercom, "I'm going to open up the doors. Don't come out until I talk to you again. Please close the doors when you get out." He hopped down and opened the doors, then rushed back to the cab. "Okay. Have a nice day, or something."

Anita giggled. Donna said, "Bye!" and the pair hopped out and closed the doors. Walking away, Donna mused, "I'll bet that was the black guy."

The whole thing was still very much on Randy's mind as Amy pulled up beside the van after dropping Misha off. "What's wrong?" she asked, knowing the answer.

"I got oversensitive because Anita isn't big on black guys," Randy grunted. "It's just one thing after another -- I can't seem to keep my temper!" Why was he spilling his guts to Amy?

"You just need a girl who will treat you right," Amy told him. "You ought to just let Miriam know who you are and she'll give you what you need."

"Miriam doesn't know I'm black, either," Randy sighed.

"She's pretty sure, actually," Amy told him.

Randy blinked. "Really?"

"We talk," Amy replied, smiling. "You really don't have anything to worry about."

"I dunno," Randy grunted. "Everybody seems to have a reason to blow me off."

"Miriam doesn't," Amy assured him. "Has she failed you yet?"

"No," Randy admitted, "but she doesn't know..."

"She knows everything but what you look like," Amy assured him. "She knows YOU. She knows what you want and how you want it -- and why. She knows how you like your sex. Trust me -- we've proven that appearances are irrelevant once you actually KNOW the person. Miriam KNOWS you -- seeing you is secondary."

"I hope so."

"She can't wait for you to test her again," Amy told him. "Try it. You'll see."

"Maybe..." Randy drew in a breath and waved. "Bye!"

Amy smiled and waved back, "Bye!"

Toby got on the horn to Fred. "Hey, is this Boy Lover?"

"Shit! Do you hafta call me that?" Fred howled. He about shit his pants every time he got a call like this...

"Well..."

"I know you guys know every damned thing about me -- why poke me with needles? Is this something Louise wants you to do?"

Toby chuckled. "Okay, Fred, I'll lay off -- but I can't speak for some of the other guys -- they get off on it."

"Awright," Fred grunted. "So, why did you call, anyway?"

"You put in an order a while back -- and I think I can fulfill it."

"What for?"

"A one-on-one with somebody. Just sex, no hidden agendas."

"No shit?"

"No shit."

"Where? Y'all gonna take more videos for Louise's war chest?" Fred rumbled.

"Your place?"

"How's THAT gonna work?"

"Friday night, after football, everybody else is going to be busy, probably. Terence and Damian will be, and I bet Louise will, too."

"So..."

"Well, the mechanics haven't been worked out -- this is kind of Round One -- but we roll by and drop off someone and he comes to visit and you guys can go at it slow and easy..."

Fred rubbed his jaw. "Sounds tempting. What am I lookin' at? The fat guy?"

"No, he's gone. It'll be someone about Terence's age -- who may or may not be experienced." Nicky wasn't, but Eddie Ray was... "Are you in?"

"Yeah. If I don't hafta worry about Louise filming it, I'm in."

"There aren't any cameras at your place I'm aware of," Toby assured him.

"Okay, then."

"I'll call and confirm as we get closer."

"Okay." Fred sat a moment, musing. "Thanks, Man."

"Believe it or not, you're doing us a favor." Toby hung up.

On Wednesday, during the day, it seemed like a lot of people were avoiding discussion of the events of the previous evening. Amy and Miriam sat with Donna and Anita and Misha, but none of that three wanted at least one person present to be aware of the fact that they'd done crazy sexy things the night before. Conversation was generic -- and unsatisfying.

After school was another matter. Miriam had taken to hanging out where she could see black guys. Her man -- master -- whatever he was -- was black -- she was certain of it. Most of the guys -- of any color -- tended to hang out on the far side of the cafeteria from the administration building -- a spot which was highly visible from the cafeteria's outside patio, which made it a gathering place for girls. Miriam was sitting at an outdoor picnic table with Donna, Anita, and Amy when things suddenly broke open...

Marcel was haranguing Randy, leaning on a car in the parking lot. "What the fuck is with you, Rain Man? Howcum you be suddenly special? Last year you couldn't find your ass with both hands, but we're all supposed to pretend you got your shit together. Who died and left a hole for you to move up, anyway? I don't see nothing that makes you special, but you act like you got hot and cold running bitches! So where are they, Man?" Marcel put his hand up and looked here and there, pretending to be looking for Randy's harem.

"Shit, where's YOURS?" Randy rasped. "What makes YOU fucking special? Bernice? Nah, you ain't doing that -- maybe she wishes you were, but you're not."

"Point is, people know," Marcel argued. "Dudes know I've had it. You ain't had shit. You ain't had pussy since pussy had you!"

"What the fuck would YOU know about it?" Randy snapped. "Just because I didn't have a half-dozen motherfuckers standin' around watchin' me while I did some two-bit whore at a gang bang..."

"You can talk shit about the dreams you have jackin' off all day, Man -- that don't mean you been laid!" Marcel sneered.

Anger did what nothing else would have done. Looking around, he detected Miriam. "Oh, yeah? Watch THIS, motherfucker!" And he tapped out the code on his chest.

Miriam went on full alert! She heard the sound and zeroed in on it -- and a boy was looking back! He was waiting... Snatching up her backpack, she said, "I have to go..." and dashed off! Donna and Anita eyed one another and got up to follow, more slowly.

Meanwhile, Marcel was jeering, "What the fuck is that?"

"That's me tellin' my bitch to come a'runnin', that's what it is!" Randy retorted.

"Yeah, fuckin' right..." Marcel's voice trailed off as a husky white girl came up, carefully put her backpack on the ground, and stood before Randy. Randy snapped his fingers and she went to her knees. Smiling down at her, he drew a little circle on the top of her head, and she turned to face Marcel.

"So, you got one trained?" Randy asked.

"Uuhh..." Marcel stood for a second, eyeing the situation, trying to get his sea legs. Addressing Miriam, he asked, "What the fuck you doin' here?"

Miriam looked up at Randy over her shoulder.

"What?" Randy asked.

"Permission to speak?"

Randy smiled. "Granted."

"My master called for me," Miriam said calmly, turning her attention to Marcel.

"How many masters you got?"

"One."

Marcel eyed Randy. "Okay, I'm impressed. I dunno what you paid this little bitch to do this, but it's impressive. You ain't fucked her, though."

"Oh, yes he has!" Miriam erupted. That got several gasps, including a pair from Donna and Anita.

"Yeah, right!" Marcel retorted -- but his position was getting weaker by the second. "I'll believe it when I see it." Everybody knew Rain Man didn't have no balls.

She was here, she was doing and saying everything she said she would... Randy made the leap. "Okay."

"What?" Marcel blinked.

"Let's go somewhere that we won't get fucking expelled," Randy said calmly, "and I'll prove it." He stroked Miriam's cheek.

Miriam's smile grew fangs. "Who's going to fuck YOU, Marcel?"

This got a general rumble. "Back off, Marcel," somebody advised, "You ain't winning."

Marcel waved a hand. "He's bluffing."

Locking gazes with Marcel, Randy rasped, "The campsite. Thirty minutes. Bring your witnesses -- and pussy, if you can find any!" He called Miriam up with his hand. "Go get in the van." Miriam collected her backpack and, head high, swayed off toward the van.

Trish surfaced -- and Alyssa. "Randy, this isn't smart."

"I need to do something to get a little respect around here," Randy replied. "Miriam is game..."

"Miriam is VERY game," Trish replied, "but you've got no backup. What if Marcel and his buddies decide it's open season? The guys are all in practice..."

"That's it," Marcel sneered, "Let your little sister talk you out of it! She always wore the pants in your family -- little lezzie cunt!"

"I didn't say jack shit, Marcel!" Alyssa retorted. "Come on, Trish -- WE can kick HIS sorry ass!"

Trish bit her lip. "Okay. Let me see who we can dig up, just in case. We'll meet you there." Randy nodded and made to move off.

A hand dropped onto his arm. "Can we ride with you?" Donna asked.

"What for?"

"Miriam. Besides, if you need evidence..."

"What?"

"We've both sucked you, right?"

"Yeah." Randy waved. "Go get in."

The campsite was a circle of stones in a wooded area just north of town. You couldn't actually get in with any type of vehicle bigger than a motorcycle -- the maze of bramble bushes didn't allow it, even if you knew where the openings were. The place was conveniently located near a known overlook -- but over a hundred yards into some pretty thick underbrush. At some point, a couple of tarp lean-tos had been established, and mattresses brought in, covered in plastic; there'd been parties there for over a decade. The police hit the area periodically, but there never seemed to be anything going on by the time they floundered through the bushes, which made an excellent alarm system. There were at least six exits, too -- it would have taken a platoon to close them all on the back side.

Randy and the girls were there in fifteen minutes. Randy didn't tell Miriam she didn't have to do it or anything -- both of them knew they were committed. He just stood behind her, his hands stroking up and down her arms.

Donna took on the onus of talking about what was about to transpire. "Miriam, you don't have to do this."

"Yes I do."

"Why?"

"He needs me," Miriam responded calmly. Everything about her was calm.

"This is going to go all over school!"

"It already has."

"They'll call you a slut!"

"I have a man."

"Yes, you do." Randy reinforced the declaration by kissing Miriam's neck.

"See?" Miriam's smile was almost scary.

"I'm not making her," Randy declared. "I'm not holding a gun to her head."

"But if I don't do it, I'll have failed him -- and I don't want to do that," Miriam amplified. "besides, I LIKE having sex with him!"

"Well, yeah, but what about privacy?" Donna asked. "This is gonna be VERY public!"

Miriam turned to Randy. "What will you do when I have given everything? Will you toss me aside?"

"Are you shitting me?" Randy howled. "Do I LOOK like an asshole? Jeezus! Why would I do THAT to the only girl in the world who would...?"

"See?" Miriam smiled.

"You trust him."

"I trust him."

Donna shrugged. "Okay."

Anita shook her head and rubbed her face.

Marcel took almost the entire thirty minutes. "Did you get lost?" Randy asked, visibly at ease.

"No," Marcel snarled. "Seems like some people got short memories." Randy got it; for all of his shit talking, Marcel didn't have any witnesses willing to step up and testify on his behalf regarding his sexual prowess. Other people got it, too -- and a murmur went up. If Randy and Miriam followed through -- and there was money changing hands in the crowd in bets over it -- Marcel would be totally discredited.

Randy glanced around; normally, in a confrontation of this nature, the audience would be all male -- and all black. In this case, though, there were several females -- and some white faces. Randy was pleased to see Rick and Teela, since they were probably the only group members likely to be available. Alyssa was there, and Trish, and Tabitha, and Sonya -- there were a lot of girls present, actually. Sissy must have put out the call... It was time to press things. "Marcel, I'm not gonna put on any demonstration for some dude that is all mouth. If you don't have nothing to back you up, why should I have Miriam do shit that will be embarrassing to her, to say the least?"

"Which means you can't?" Marcel pressed.

"Which means I don't waste my time on somebody who is all show and no go," Randy replied evenly. "If you wanna talk shit, but you don't have a game, who's gonna care, anyway?" He looked around. "Is there anybody here who doesn't think Miriam is my bitch?" There was a murmur -- largely from those who'd placed bets. Randy turned back to Marcel. "Where's YOUR bitch?"

"You're just talkin' -- blowin' smoke!" Marcel ranted. All he had going for him was bluff...

"Where's your bitch?"

"Marcel." Bernice Higgins stepped out of the crowd.

Marcel rubbed his face. Bernice's expression said he would owe her -- more than he really wanted to pay! But if he backed down... "There! Where you been, anyway? Shit!" He waved her over.

There were chuckles in the crowd; nobody really believed that Marcel had ever fucked Bernice. But they were happy to watch him hang himself. Bernice, who was GOING to profit from this episode, grinned from ear to ear as she approached Marcel. Marcel looked a little grey about the gills -- and got even more so when Bernice leaned in to whisper something to him -- but he gathered his pluck. "Okay, big talker, let's see some shit!"

"Make sure Bernice keeps up!" Randy retorted, and stepped around Miriam to run his hand down her front. Miriam's expression never changed -- she just started unbuttoning her blouse.

Bernice went "Wha?"

"Are you gonna fuck with your clothes on?" Randy asked blandly. Miriam handed her top to Donna and reached back to unzip her skirt.

"Move it!" Marcel grunted, his voice dangerous. Clearly, if she was going to get whatever blackmail payment she'd negotiated, Bernice was going to have to keep up. Bernice got the hint and threw her top over her head and moved on to stepping out of her shorts, catching up with Miriam as the white girl handed her skirt to Donna.

But Miriam kept going, reaching behind her to unclasp her bra. Bernice looked back and forth and leaned in to whisper to Marcel.

"You know what's got to happen," Marcel retorted, loud enough to be heard. Bernice turned back to Miriam just as she bent to drop her panties, to the sound of applause and cat-calls from a number of males present. Miriam grinned and curtsied.

"Your move, Man," Randy rumbled.

Looking nervous, Bernice undid her bra. She wasn't overly endowed. Somebody in the audience rumbled in a stage whisper, "Well, shit -- that ain't so bad. Get her pregnant a couple of times so they puff up..." Bernice clearly didn't know whether to be pleased or angry at the comment. Bending over, she slowly stepped out of her panties -- and got a round of applause, to which she grinned sheepishly.

Marcel managed to hold his head up. "Gettin' naked ain't fucking."

"That's right." Randy snapped his fingers. Miriam went to her knees and oriented on Randy. Randy eyed Marcel and snapped his fingers twice. Immediately, Miriam went for his zipper. "I'm sure Bernice can suck -- but we're all about proving shit..."

Bernice watched, goggle-eyed, as Miriam freed Randy's cock from his underwear and sucked it in. People shifted around so they could see. Money changed hands, and people murmured to one another in surprise or approval or disgust. Randy looked up and swept the crowd with fierce eyes. "I don't give a shit what you say about me -- but you motherfuckers ask yourselves if YOUR old lady would do THIS for YOU! I wouldn't trade Miriam for a million bucks!" He turned to Marcel. "So. I don't see YOUR old lady doing anything..."

Marcel almost fucked up and said, "She ain't my old lady!" Bernice would have collected her clothes and stalked off for sure if he had. Instead, he gathered himself and said, "Show 'em what you can do, Bernice..."

Bernice stood watching Miriam; she could have been all alone in a bedroom with Randy for all the attention she was giving the crowd. "Marcel, I..."

Marcel took her arm and pulled her around to face him, then pushed down on her shoulder. "Just shut up and suck. It isn't like you haven't offered before..." That got some chuckles. Bernice hid her face, but went to work on Marcel's fly. In a moment, she had him out and was sucking; Marcel put his hand behind her head to make sure she didn't go anywhere.

"So how is she, Marcel?" somebody called out.

"It's good! You should try it!" Marcel replied, grinning. Bernice swatted him on the hip.

"Come see me, Bernice! Maybe I'll try you out!" someone else yelled.

Oddly, nobody heckled Miriam. Miriam was in a daze. This was it, all right -- his cock. She knew him, anyway, but this was verification. That thing he said -- wonderful! She was afloat on a cloud! Nothing would stop her now -- nothing! She made love to her man's cock with her mouth, doing her very best; she wanted to show the crowd a mouthful of his cum.

By comparison, Bernice's thought process was, "I've totally humiliated myself -- for this?" Marcel's sinewy dick was okay, maybe, but it didn't compare with Rain Man's! Damn! Who'd have known? Besides, Marcel was an asshole -- and everyone knew it! What had she bought, besides a reputation as a slut?

Marcel upped the ante, knowing he was wasting his time. "This ain't fucking."

"No, it isn't," Randy agreed.

"Cut the shit, Marcel," Otis White rumbled from the crowd. "He's fucking. You'll probably only be fucking if you spread Bernice. Give it the fuck up."

"How do we know this isn't HIS first pass?" Marcel shot back. "It isn't mine, but you're making me prove it, anyway -- why shouldn't he?"

"He's fucking," a female voice sounded from the depths of the crowd. "Girls?" A cluster of females came through the crowd: Trish, Teela, Sonya, Sally and Tabitha. Donna stepped to the end of the line, still holding Miriam's clothes. Anita joined her. Trish spoke up. "Randy has fucked at least three of us -- and gotten blow jobs from a couple more. And we're not the only ones. I'm not telling you who, exactly, but Randy IS fucking! Now, Marcel can't even get GUYS to admit to SEEING him..." There was a rumble in the crowd.

"Do I get a vote?" a soft voice asked from behind the line of females.

Everybody turned around. Miriam knelt there, holding Randy's cock in her hand.

Randy pulled some stray strands of hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. "Yes, you get a vote."

Miriam beckoned; Randy leaned down. "Make love to me."

Randy stood there for a moment. "Damn straight." Looking up, he said, "My woman just reminded me that her rep is fucked, anyway, so she might as well be, too. Besides, saying 'she fucks' is shorter than saying 'she sucks dick', so it's over with quicker. Last, but not least, she's been makin' me happy, but she hasn't gotten shit in return -- and she deserves to get something out of this mess. That being the case, I'm going to take my woman over under that tarp over there and spread her out on that mattress and TRY to make shit up to her. You all can do whatever the fuck you want about it -- BUT -- she's MINE! You don't fucking get any!" He turned to the other couple. "Fuck you, Marcel. I hope Bernice bites your dick off!" He waved an arm at Miriam, who rose, took his hand, and led him toward the mattress, her expression radiant. Everyone stood there, stupefied, watching as she turned to help Randy get out of his clothing.

Once they were done undressing, the pair of them moved to the mattress, totally ignoring three dozen witnesses. Randy looked nowhere but Miriam's eyes as he knelt between her legs and slid fingers along her puffy labia to ensure that she was wet. Miriam's eyes never left his as she groped for his cock and rubbed it along her split, then positioned it at her opening. "Love me," she whispered.

"Shit, I already do!" He slid himself into her.

Otis White, watching from behind the couple, grunted, "Any fucking questions?" Miriam locked her ankles around Randy's hips as he got into a rhythm. A chunk of the crowd, hushed, watched the couple -- but another chunk turned their attention to Marcel and Bernice. "So, Marcel," Otis rumbled.

"Beginner's luck," Marcel declared.

"No fucking way," Otis replied. "Rain Man knows his way around a pussy. You don't get in and get going that easy the first time. There was no fear -- in either of them. They knew EXACTLY what the fuck they were doing!"

In the background, Miriam started gasping, "Ogod!" It just pressed the point home... The slap, slap, slap of Randy's pubic mound striking Miriam's crotch began to be audible, too.

"So, you gonna deliver, there, Big Man?" Otis taunted. "Rain Man's woman WANTED HIS dick -- I wonder if Bernice really wants yours?"

"Bernice," Marcel said carefully, "Let's go fuck."

Tyrone Baker came up and knelt behind Bernice, sliding a hand between her legs while cupping breast. "That's a nice pussy you got there, Bernice. Nice tits, too. Marcel says you suck pretty good. What did he offer you to pull his nuts out of the fire?"

Bernice, shocked at his audacity, gasped, "H--homecoming."

"Maybe you should take bids, you know? Marcel, he's probably lying, anyway -- you know how he is. Maybe you want to take a look at MY dick?" Tyrone pressed.

"I -- I..." Tyrone had a finger in her! She couldn't breathe!

"What the fuck?" Marcel rasped.

"Shut up, Marcel!" Tyrone snapped. "What the fuck do you know about pleasing women?"

"That's MY dick she's holding!"

"Easily fixed," Otis rumbled. He unzipped and unlimbered his meat. "Here, Bernice, try this." He picked up her hand and placed it on his cock. "What do you think of that? You like what Tyrone is doin'? Maybe you ought to check out his?"

"Uuhnh..." Tyrone had his thumb in her twat and was sliding his middle and ring fingers along the sides of her clit -- and Bernice was squatting there, frozen. She made to move -- and ended up just spreading her stance so Tyrone could get at her better. She turned to face Tyrone, who was leaning over her left shoulder. "Okay..."

Tyrone grinned and unzipped his fly, fishing one-handed for his meat. Otis took Bernice's left hand and moved it, "Come on, Bernice, show us what a fine piece you are. Jack me!" Dazed, Bernice started moving her hand on Otis' burning meat -- and when Tyrone reached up to pull her right hand free of Marcel's cock, she reached back and took his staff in her hand, too.

"Hey!" Marcel snapped.

"Shut up, Marcel!" Otis backhanded Marcel, knocking him down. "You don't deserve this shit..." He maneuvered his cock to Bernice's lips. "Come on, baby, show Uncle Otis what a fine cocksucker you are..." Bernice opened her mouth and he slid it in.

"What do you think of MY dick?" Tyrone whispered in Bernice's ear. "Isn't it nice? How would you like to have it in you where my thumb is?"

"Mmmph! Mmmph!" Bernice gurgled.

"Now, Tyrone," Otis cautioned, "If you fuck her, you have to take her out..." He grinned from ear to ear. Tyrone grinned back.

Trish, catching sight of this, told Donna, "You need to go to the van. Take Anita. Get in the back -- they won't know you're there. This shit is getting out of hand." Donna nodded. Rick sent Teela to follow Sally, who Lon pointed the way out for. The guys stayed, however, to watch over Randy and Miriam.

"Hey, Bernice!" someone yelled. Whoever it was had a camera phone -- and caught a perfect, right-frontal shot of Bernice, her mouth full of Otis' meat and her hand on Tyrone's.

"Somebody get that other mattress and drag it out here," Otis directed, "but don't bother Rain Man and his squeeze!"

There were hands all over Bernice -- hands on her breasts, hands on her ass, fingers in her pussy... Hands literally grabbed her under her thighs and lifted her and shifted her to a soft surface -- and impaled her onto something VERY hard! Hands grabbed her ass and pushed it up and down and up and down and up and down -- and other hands held her head still so a cock could go in and out and in and out and in and out... It was all out of hand, but that wasn't fixable; Bernice knew that instinctively. Besides, she rationalized, wasn't this what she'd signed up for? Somebody's hand was still rubbing her clit, and someone had his mouth on her nipple... She held the head in place and gurgled around the meat probing her mouth. She could freak, or she could surrender -- and in the end, it wouldn't matter, anyway...

Aside from a few people who chose to watch, Randy and Miriam were left to their own devices fairly quickly. They didn't care; they were ignoring everything that was going on that didn't directly involve them. Randy fed Miriam's pussy cock on a regular schedule, and Miriam's pussy welcomed every delivery. She screamed out three orgasms before Randy surged up and poured spunk into her clasping channel, and when he was done and settled himself on her for a quick rest, she laughed and cried and hugged him to her. Randy felt like fourteen kinds of asshole for exposing her to the situation -- but Miriam clearly didn't care; for her, it was a series of challenges that he'd posed for her and that she'd met and overcome. Tomorrow would be another day -- and maybe people would say unkind things to her and about her -- but if Randy accepted her, what other people said or thought just didn't matter... "I'm so happy..." she muttered, simply, when he raised himself on his arms.

"I fucked up," Randy muttered. "But I'm proud of you. You're mine -- you understand?" He really had no words for it., so he just squeezed her to him.

"I'm yours," Miriam agreed, nodding. "It's all I've wanted to be for a week."

They got up, unmolested; Randy collected his things. There was a short period of confusion before Alyssa waved from the edge of the clearing, yelling, "We have her clothes!" Several people applauded -- including a cluster of guys with some girl in the middle... Alyssa got in the back so Miriam could sit up front with Randy as they drove back to the school to let the others off.

Lon and Rick had faded away as soon as it became clear that the couple was in no danger.

Marcel got to fuck Bernice -- he was fifth. By then, Bernice had been fucked wall-eyed and would have never remembered it, but the camera phone chronicler got a shot every time they changed positions, so Marcel had his evidence...