Copyright (c) 2016,   madvlad.  ALL Rights Reserved

Date of first publication in Mr Double's Palisade :
Thursday, June 16, 2016

This story may be downloaded by Palisade members uniquely for their private use, and 
may not be distributed for profit or posted to newsgroups or other websites.  Mr Double 
may be contacted by emailing mrdouble@mrdouble.com.


A Palisade Author story from MrDouble's archive, 
Filename: getting9.txt
http://www.mrdouble.com



story_codes: MM/g(10), semi-cons, cons

story_intro: A few days after being forced by her stepfather to pose for "modeling" photos before he fucked her yet again, one of Sandra's clients offers her an usual change of pace. Instead of serving a john in a car or motel room, she spends the night aboard a richly appointed life and learns how the upper class lives, and enjoys little girls like her.


story_language: English





Getting Directions, Story 9

Written by madvlad


	"Now turn a little...yeah, that's it," the man with the camera directed, his voice taking on a moist quality.

	His swimsuit model continued to pose, smiling and giving the camera a sultry, come-hither look that was far older than her barely ten years.

	Sandra jerked her head, tossing her wavy blonde mane so that when it swirled forward, it partially obscured one side of her face. With one eye shadowed, the other practically burned with the invitation to take her. At her stepfather's order, she saucily tilted her slim hips in further advertisement. 

	As he peered at the view screen on his smart phone, Van was nearly slobbering with every word. Despite her revulsion toward her stepfather, Sandra was proud that she could make her very girlish figure elicit such reactions, even with a swinish lout like Van. She much preferred such lustful devotion from other men - the ones who paid for the use of her illegally young body.

	The bikini she wore was new - yellow and skimpy even on Sandra's little frame. Where Van found such a thing, she had no idea. Nor did she know how he got the funds for the fancy phone that he could use for photos and videos. As far as Sandra knew, he had not used the phone for anything but sleazy images, both still and moving of Sandra in various states of dress or undress and engaged in some very lewd activities.

	This afternoon, she was only posing in the bikini but she knew how it would end. She'd rather be out on the hill with her friends and perhaps picking up a little business from the "lost" motorists in need of directions.

	Bordering the yellow triangles of her top were pale marks of the same shape - just a little larger - that marked where her usual bathing suit covered. This bikini covered little more than the nipples on her boyish chest. Her bottom was a thong, revealing the firm, luscious curves of her ass with a pale triangle across both buttocks to show what was normally hidden from the sun. In front, the narrow strip of cloth managed to conceal her slit, ending perhaps a centimeter or two above the dimpled top of her cleft.

	The soft, milky flesh of her bulging mons was visible on both sides, forming a slight crease at the junction of each thigh, contrasting with the lean, golden skin of the girl's legs. When Sandra moved just right, the fabric would pull to one side or the other to show little more of her smooth, prepubescent mound but stopping just short of revealing her slit. Teasing came naturally to Sandra.

	Van inhaled loudly, the copious snot in his nostrils rattling as he sucked it on before spitting the gob onto a greasy wrapper from one of three microwave cheeseburgers he had purchased at the convenience store by the trailer park. Then he gave his stepdaughter a look that showed even more hunger than he had previously for his burgers.

	"Get on the bed, bitch," he growled. "Time to give you what you're achin' for."

	Sandra quickly did as ordered, getting on her hands and knees. This wasn't out of eagerness, despite what Van said. But it was to keep him in good humor. Sandra spit on her fingers and jammed her hand inside of her thong to get herself ready because Van was going to shove it in if she was wet or dry.

	"That's right, slut. You're hot for it aren't you?"

	Van's voice was like grease dripping along her spine. Sandra shivered involuntarily but recovered and nodded.

	"Yes, Daddy. I need you in my whore hole."

	A grunt from Van signaled his approval. He loved it when she spoke like that and Sandra did it as much as possible for the more turned on he got, the quicker he'd cum and she'd be done with him.

	Van placed the phone on the bed, the lens facing up and trained on her lower midsection and crotch. The bed creaked and Sandra adjusted her balance as the mattress shifted with Van's added weight behind her. With impatient fingers, he pulled the front of her thong to the side while his other hands grabbed one of her hips. Mashing the unwashed head of his dick against her diminutive slit, he pushed in with a groan and drew a quick shout from Sandra as her experienced yet small channel adjusted to his abrupt intrusion.

	Once he was interlocked with the little girl, Van brought his hand from his penis to Sandra's other hip. He squeezed her in his grip as he forced as much of his member into her that her underage pussy could take. It made Sandra feel like a trapped animal when he did it like that, which was her stepfather's intent. 

	"You may be hot little whore, but I gotta keep you in line - show you who's boss," Van growled as he pumped his prick into his ten year-old stepdaughter.

	"You're always my boss, Daddy," Sandra wheezed, the force of the man's rutting hurting her some. "And I'll always be your little whore."

	"Damn right you will be," Van shot back, punctuating it with a belch.

	He was enjoying Sandra's tight, preteen cunt as he always did, his handling of her bordering on rape. But it kept the little bitch obedient and mindful of him and kept her from spreading those sexy legs of hers for some of the boys and men around here. Yeah, she wouldn't think of having anyone but ol' Van, no sir.

	Now he was making her good and juicy in her slut hole, he could tell by the buttery feel of her small tunnel and the frothy noises when he rammed inward. She was probably leaking down her thighs which would be good footage. Van was making money uploading his photos and videos and right now his handy gadget would be catching the best part. Everyone liked watching a man's hard cock plowing into the little girl's hairless twat. 

	Sliding his hands up Sandra's torso, he pushed her bikini top up and pinched at the flat disks of her little nipples. He heard Sandra mewling, not knowing if it was from lust or pain. And he didn't care which.

	"You're gonna pop some little tits out in a year or two for your daddy, aint you?"

	"Uh huh, Daddy. I'll grow some whore titties just for you."

	"Yeah..." he sighed, wetly reaming her cunny until his balls jolted. "Oh, here it cums. Here's your daddy juice."

	"Mmmmmm," Sandra responded as thick jets of semen were injected into her ten year-old reproductive organs. 

	After Van pulled out, torrents of his slime poured from Sandra's bald young snatch, showing for the camera just what kind of daddy's slut she was. His animal craving satisfied, Van shook his member to get rid of any loose goo. A couple of droplets fell on Sandra's butt and back.

	"Get rid of that bikini," he said. "Don't need your mama finding it and wondering why her baby girl is dressing like a slut. She'd skin your hide if she knew what a whore you already are. You're just damned lucky I'm giving you cock to keep you satisfied."

	"Yes, Daddy," Sandra dutifully replied. "Thank you, Daddy."

	Of course, she kept the bikini. After all, at least she'd have something to show for putting up with Van's sweaty attentions. Some of Van's buddies came by in the morning to pick him up and they were going to be gone for the day and her mother was off to her part-time job which would no doubt be followed by her part-time habitation of a bar. So Sandra arrived on the hill wearing an unremarkable t-shirt and shorts.

	Most of the gang was there already and Sandra felt their eyes up on her as she casually removed her outer garments. There were gasps and exclamations and despite the bikini having come from Van, Sandra felt proud of it. Today, she was going to let the sun work on the pale swatches of skin her new suit left exposed.

	Some light giggling from behind made Sandra spin around. There sat her best friend, Chyna, and two girls who had to be sisters. In fact, they were half-sisters, sharing the same father. But with odd luck, the older girl, eight year-old Lindsay, had recently moved to the trailer park with her mother. Five year-old Marissa, who was seated in Chyna's plush lap, already lived here with her mother and her mother's endless stream of boyfriends. 

	Lindsay had quickly joined the hill group in "helping" give directions to the men who came prowling by although she still seemed kind of nave. Usually, girls Marissa's age were too young to hang out on the hill but a chance encounter with a trolling customer late at night had introduced the tot to the working life. 

	Although Chyna was smiling, she hadn't been the one to laugh. Neither was Lindsay the guilty party. But Marissa was still grinning and shaking as she leaned against Chyna's plump chest and belly.

	"What's so funny?" Sandra asked good-naturedly.

	"I can see your whole bottom!" the girl laughed.

	"Oh yeah?" Sandra challenged.

	She wrestled Marissa from Chyna's lap and put her belly down over her thighs. Then she jerked the seat of the girl's shorts down, taking the panties with it, to expose a tiny pair of buns while Marissa squealed and kicked in good fun.

	"And now I can see yours," Sandra announced triumphantly. "Hey, everyone! Look at Marissa's ass!"

	Marissa wriggled and giggled and then Sandra let her pull her clothing back into place. Then Marissa settled on Sandra's lap, smiling at her. This was a change from the sometimes shy, grubby urchin from a couple of weeks ago. As Marissa's mother often turned the girl out from her trailer at night so her boyfriends wouldn't be tempted by the tyke, Chyna had kindly offered to let the girl live with her and her uncle.

	At first, Wanda had been suspicious but even she mustered enough brain power to figure out that she could still collect welfare checks for her daughter's care while the girl was living with someone else. And so now Marissa was always bathed and even happier all the time. 

	Sandra glanced at Chyna and wondered about the arrangement. Chyna's uncle, a kind man, was often gone for a few nights at a time on his truck routes which left Chyna alone with Marissa. While Chyna could take a man's dick as well as any girl - better than most, actually - she really got into it when customers took two girls and wanted to see some girl-on-girl action. Was Chyna getting lezzie with little Marissa?

	Sandra leaned forward until her nose was touching Marissa's. 

	"Does Chyna give you all kinds of special loving?" she asked softly.

	The widening of Marissa's gray eyes gave her the answer before the girl nodded.

	"And do you like it?"

	Another wide-eyed nod met her query and Sandra gave her a kiss.

	"Good for you."

	Giving Marissa a light swat, Sandra let her return to cuddling with Chyna. The five year-old was in good hands with the gentle yet sexually adventurous nine year-old whose chubby body made a comfortable pillow for any lover.

	"Sandra, wake up."

	Sandra opened her eyes and stared into the face of a skinny eight year-old.

	"Huh? What is it, Maxie?"

	The other girl tugged on her ear, a nervous habit she had. A breeze riffled her short brown hair. 

	"There's a man who wants to talk to you. He's been here before."

	Sandra came fully awake. She must have dozed in the sunshine and fresh air - both of which were lacking in the grimy trailer she had to call home. After stretching her arms, she stood up and walked toward the black BMW parked on the road. That would be Lee - one of her regulars and a good tipper. With a smile that matched the daylight, she sauntered toward the waiting vehicle.

	Had Lee been asked what exactly sexy meant, he would have been at a loss. Like a judge once said about porn, you can't define it but you know it when you see it.  As far as sexy went, Lee damned well knew he was seeing it with Sandra. Whatever it was, the kid had it in spades. And going back to the reference to porn, Lee's thoughts were certainly pornographic. 

	And that bikini she was wearing...just who made something like that in children's sizes? Lee would pay good money just to subscribe to their catalogs.

	"Hello, Lee," Sandra said in a tone that promised so much sweetness. "Where do you need to go today?"

	"I'm not lost," he replied, playing the game. "But I have an important client who may need some help navigating the river this Saturday. Do you know where Doyle's landing is?"

	Sandra thought of the place where recreational boaters could tie up at one of three piers for a meal, gas, and all manners of carry out food and other items.

	"Sure, it's a couple of miles down the road."

	"Good. Could you be there at noon? And could you stay on the boat all night?"

	For Sandra, Saturday nights meant staying alone in the trailer until her mother and Van woke her when they came staggering in. Then she'd be awake for another hour or so until the racket of their amusingly bad sex finally died down.

	"I suppose. But it costs more," she answered carefully. 

	She wasn't sure how much to ask for but let Lee do the figuring since he tended to be generous.

	"How about two hundred?" he said, knowing that would maybe buy a decent hooker in a hotel room for an hour in the city. These young girls, so illicitly desirable, could be filthy rich selling their bodies but they simply lacked financial perspective.

	Sandra's eyes lit up. She had almost four hundred dollars in her secret stash after making that movie with those black men. She'd save half for treating her friends on the hill and the rest would nearly put her half way to her targeted goal of one thousand. That huge amount was what she figured would be enough to take her to her dream world of California where everyone would want her and she could pick and choose as she lived in high style.

	"I'll be there," she purred, running one finger along his forearm as it rested in the open window. "And what about you and me, right now?"

	Lee swallowed hard and paused to make sure he voice wouldn't sound like a bleat.

	"I can't - I have obligations tonight."

	"Aww..." Sandra drawled, making her lower lip pout just right.

	Lee handed her a pair of twenties. 

	"Consider this a retainer fee, okay? Oh, and make sure you wear that bikini on Saturday."

	Sandra took the cash, folding it in her fingers in a way that made it look sensual. Whether it was on purpose or just came naturally, Lee couldn't tell. 

	After bidding her goodbye, he drove away, wondering if his erection would die down by the time he returned home to his wife and his visiting in-laws.

	The others were surprised when Sandra came back with the money.

	"Forty dollars?" Lindsay gasped in awe. "But you just stood there!"

	Sandra grinned at her.

	"Yeah, but I talk real sexy."

	Sandra waved when she saw Lee on the approaching boat. Boat, hell, it was a yacht - the kind that pulled in on the piers at those really fancy restaurants on the city's waterfront. The girl couldn't recall ever seeing one approach this area of the banks. As she took in the luxurious lines of the vessel, Sandra remembered earlier years where she would run along the muddy shore near the trailer park, waving at the fancy and no-so-fancy boats and wishing they would come over and offer her a ride.

	Now she was going to finally get to see one of these fantasy boats up close. Back when she was five or six years old, it hadn't occurred to her that she had the attributes to get invited aboard. Those kinds of things, she believed at the time, were only meant for the men her mama brought home. 

	Taking Lee's extended hand, she was pulled aboard. The yacht's engines thrummed as they reversed direction and her new adventure was underway. 

	"Is there a place I can put my clothes?" she asked Lee, waving a hand over her t-short and shorts. "Don't worry, I've got what you want underneath."

	Lee didn't know if the double entendre was intended but he led her below to a spacious cabin with a huge bed while reminding himself she belonged to another today. But he stayed while she removed her shirt and shorts, stuffing them in a drawer along with her sneakers and socks.

	"His name is Boyce," Lee told her. "That's what he goes by. Just be yourself, charming and nice to everyone. Let him come on to you in his own way. He knows why you're here. And the others know that you're here for him and him alone."

	Ten minutes later, Sandra met Boyce, a man who could have been anywhere from his mid-forties to his mid-fifties. His salt and pepper hair was slicked back with only enough recession of the hairline to make him look distinguished. He was soft-spoken, but there was something in him that radiated subtle power and vibrancy.

	There were in all about a dozen passengers on the yacht as the crew and servers unobtrusively took care of their duties. Sandra was in awe of their clothes and manners and conversations but after a while began to sense the hungry gazes and lurid intent of several of the men and women as they studied her little body in its barely modest coverings.

	Although she was used to be ogled and felt flattered by it, she felt a deeper stirring inside of her as she soaked in the lustful atmosphere. Remembering what Lee had told her about everyone knowing she was here only for Boyce, she politely acknowledged the others but focused primarily on this mystery men. And when Boyce spoke to her, the churning thrill in her belly spun ever faster. His questions were friendly and rather generic, taking his time as there was no hurry for sex in this relaxed setting.

	This is what it must be like in California, she thought. No trailer parks, no grime, no filthy mother's boyfriends who felt entitled to use her whenever they wanted. These were men who would treat her like royalty. And the women, too, Sandra supposed. She had done some girlie stuff with some of her friends for customers, but never with a woman who was paying. Her eyes narrowed in thought and she was feeling warmer between her legs.

	An early dinner was served and Sandra was once more overcome by delicacies that had never seen the inside of a microwave oven. By this time, Boyce had become more familiar to the point where he pulled her onto his lap, one of his hands cupping her silky young rump as he did so. Then he explained what the different foods were and how to enjoy them properly.

	"By why are there so many forks?" Sandra laughed.

	Boyce chuckled kindly and told her about the order of things.

	"You work from the outside inward with every course. Then leave your utensil on the plate and it will be cleared away."

	"I could just lick my fork clean," she said, drawing laughter from the others. "I'm real good with my tongue."

	Even Sandra didn't mean it in any sexual way but those nearby snickered. She blushed - a rarity for her but she was in unknown territory. Afraid she had said too much, she relaxed when she felt Boyce's soft caress on her thigh. It was both comforting and stimulating.

	Then he leaned and whispered into her ear, "I'm sure you are."

	The thrill in her gut felt like raw fission.

	Sandra mostly drank water (although she would have preferred soda but was reluctant to ask). But Boyce also had her sample sips of wine, discussing how certain varieties went best with different foods. Sandra had tried wine before when one of the older girls had snuck a bottle of Boone's Farm from her trailer. The wine here on the yacht may have been better quality, but she preferred to the sweeter stuff that came from screw-top bottles. All the same, it left her a little dizzy and light-headed when Boyce pushed away from the table.

	Without a word, he took Sandra by the hand and led her away with the eyes of the other guests following them briefly before the people turned to their own intended trysts with each other. Although the boat was running smoothly, Sandra swayed on the steps into the great room cabin where Lee had taken her before.

	"Oops," she said, her tongue feeling thick.

	Boyce carefully steadied her with strong but gentle hands on her back. When she stepped forward again and into the cabin, something felt different and she suddenly saw her bikini top falling away. Somehow, Boyce had untied the strings without her being aware. She suddenly felt vulnerable, yet also released from those cloth bindings. 

	Boyce hugged her from behind, softly kicking the door closed behind him. One hand nearly covered her chest entirely and he slowly rubbed her in a circle. From Sandra's flat chest to her flat belly, Boyce's hand moved, stroking and teasing her as his fingertips started to graze the top of her thong. 

	She was expecting him to push her bottoms down of slip his fingers under it, but he did neither. Instead, he fingers brushed on the outside for several passes before he abruptly seized the top of the thong in front and pulled it up.

	"Ahh!" Sandra cried as the material bunched into her cleft and ground against her clit. 

	Her smooth labia bulged and popped out on either side, making the front of the thong disappear into her cleft the back did between her buttocks.  With his other hand, Boyce took hold of the back and pulled it up. The thong pressed deeper into the girl's cunny in front and the top dipped down until the top of her cleft was nearly exposed. Then Boyce reversed and commenced to tug the thong, alternating front and back as if flossing her. 

	The material agitated her anus but it was the friction in her snatch that was elevating her temperature. Sweat beaded on her forehead and within minutes the crotch of the thong was saturated by a different source of moisture. When Boyce finally pulled it down her legs, it left a shiny trail on the insides of her thighs.

	As if he were leading her in a formal dance, he guided Sandra to the bed where she lay on her back for him. Unlike the men in cars who quickly unzipped or otherwise rearranged their clothing so they could get at her, Boyce took his time undressing, carefully folding each garment and stacking them on a dresser. When he turned to face her, the nude little blonde was anxious and ready for him.

	After pulling her toward him so that her rear was almost to the edge of the mattress, he lifted her legs and slipped his hardness between them, the head brushing against the child's hairless mons. Sandra humped her pelvis up to engage him but he altered his angle to keep from entering her. A low whine escaped the girl's mouth as she sought the contact.

	Boyce nodded slightly. That was good. His partners had to want him, to yearn to be taken. She was ready for him - that was apparent by the wetness of her sex and her breathing. Even the tiny, insignificant nipples on her undeveloped chest were erect with her arousal. But he wanted her to need him just a little more.

	He moved his penis back and forth a few times; deftly avoiding Sandra's offered cunny like matador turning at the last moment as the bull brushed by him. Then he stopped, releasing her legs and turning his attention to the side table where an ice bucket, tumblers, and a bottle of fine scotch had been laid out for him.

	"Do you like scotch?" he asked as he poured. 

	"I don't know," Sandra answered, unable to keep the frustration from her tone. 

	"Scotch this fine," Boyce continued as if unaware of Sandra's condition. "Should be served neat, not on the rocks."

	He gave the ice bucket a scolding tap and then sat on the bed next to Sandra before offering her the glass. When she took a sip and made a face, he took the glass from her, unoffended. Then he sipped, letting the smokiness of the malt roll over his tongue. He allowed himself a small sigh, knowing from experience how such a concoction was best enjoyed in the company of a naked young girl. 

	There was an eleven year-old in Brazil he had known intimately since she was eight. In their three years, she had developed a refined taste in liquor but she had been no less sophisticated in that regard as Sandra was now when she started. But Boyce knew of a way to make Sandra appreciate his drink.

	Dipping and index finger into his glass, he then dabbed it against Sandra's smooth lips. He kept repeating, painting her slit with the scotch using ever deepening sweeps. Not for the first time did he find the humor in having an underage partner who was also much younger than the eighteen year-old scotch she was receiving. 

	When his fingertip finally reached her entrance, he carefully tipped the glass to allow more of the scotch the trail down his digit and contact her sensitive surfaces there. Dribbling more, he fed it into her sex as he worked his finger in and out. Sandra shuddered and whined as her tissues absorbed his offering. 

	He could feel her heating up, shifting needfully on the bed as he massaged the expensive liquid into her most precious place. She was sweating fully now, her golden body glowing from the thin veil of perspiration. With her labia slightly open around his finger, her clit was extended in inflamed. When she tried to clutch his hand and force him into her, he gave her a chiding look. Sandra lowered her eyes in apology and dropped her hands to her sides, understanding that only the man would control the pace of things. 

	Reading her submission, Boyce smiled.

	"Perhaps just this once a little bit on the rocks wouldn't hurt," he said.

	He drained the remains in his glass, catching the slight bouquet of preteen fluids from when he had been dipping his finger back and forth earlier. It might be sacrilege to mix such a fine scotch whiskey, but in certain cases...

	Setting the empty glass down, he took an ice cube from the bucket. The he placed it against Sandra's hardened clitty, the cold searing her over-sensitized nubbin.

	"Waaaauugh!" Sandra shouted, bolting upright as her body convulsed. "I'm...uuoooohh..."

	Her orgasm swallowed the rest of her words as he shivered in Boyce's arms. When she was done, he gently laid her back on the bed and stood, positioning himself as he had when he teased her before.

	But this time, his intent was different. This first time, he wanted to watch her taking him, reacting to his presence inside of her. Sandra whimpered gratefully as the penetration began, no longer in any sort of control as she had with her customers. She was as helpless as she was with her stepfather now but with Boyce she utterly willing to be so.

	Sandra's vaginal walls expanded, accepting the man's member until he reached the barrier of her cervix. With a light moan, she raised her head and saw she had taken most of him into her body. Boyce slowly copulated with her, watching trembling and twisting as his cock moved in and out of the tight, dripping furnace of the ten year-old's cunt.

	Sandra spread her arms wide on the bed, staring at the man who never altered his pace. For nearly an hour, he stroked inside her slippery little pussy, creating thick, syrupy chamber music while coating his prick and her bald lips with her fluids. For Sandra, her existence became a cottony blur, soft and intoxicating that she wanted to drown in before it was interrupted by his release. 

	The shock of his hot injection flooding her made her mental gauze disintegrate. Jet after jet of Boyce's seed sought her immature interior, flooding her and taking her ever more intimately. Any disappointment from her shattered cocoon was replaced by the second climax that coursed through her.

	Boyce remained embedded inside of her as he pushed toward the middle of the bed. He followed her and this second time the girl welcomed the crush of her lover's body on top of her. With Sandra artfully broken, he took her this time with more animal action. She responded with her small hands pressing against his shoulder blades while her slender legs wrapped around his waist. 

	Presenting her pussy to him as widely as her lithe frame would allow, the child clutched at him while he pounded between her legs. They rolled, shifting positions as the coupling continued, punctuated by her climaxes and his corresponding inseminations of her preteen sex. 

	Sandra awoke, nude and sticky and just a little sore in a delicious way. The curtains in the cabin's bay window were being opened by one of the yacht's stewards before he brought the breakfast tray. The first rays of dawn came through, stabbing at Sandra's sleek figure. If the man serving them was disturbed by the sight of a heavily sexed, naked ten year-old, he didn't show it as he conducted his work with the utmost refinement.

	"This is called Eggs Benedict," Boyce informed her, correctly surmising that Sandra's breakfast usually consisted of something poured from a box in to a bowl. "Most perfect for breakfast in bed."

	Sandra devoured it, thankful there was no wide array for forks to choose from this time. When she was finished, she dabbed at some stuff at the corner of her moth with her finger and then sucked it clean. 

	"What's the yellow stuff?" she asked.

	"Hollandaise sauce," Boyce answered.

	"That's sure good."

	Boyce reached for a porcelain gravy bowl.

	"I thought you'd like it so I had them bring extra."

	Sandra giggled as he poured the contents onto her chest. His mouth followed, languidly cleaning her. Sighing, Sandra leaned back against the headboard. Boyce was moving too slow and much of the sauce flowed over her stomach and was now creaming into her crotch. But of course he'd get there eventually.

	It was only nine in the morning as the yacht approached Doyle's landing. Sandra was fully dressed again, standing next to Boyce as the weathered pier drew near.

	"Everything was great," she said, feeling a bit let down that she would be returning to her normal environs. "I'm gonna live just like this when I get to California."

	Boyce raised an eyebrow.

	"Oh? Your family is moving?"

	"Nope. It's just gonna be me. I've got almost five hundred dollars saved in a secret place and when I get a thousand, that will be all I need to go out there and live it up. And maybe some of my friends can come out and visit me."

	Her naivety was someone amusing to Boyce until the realization of what could happen to a runaway girl like her on her own cropped up in his mind. Reaching into the pocket of his now wrinkled khaki pants, he opened a wallet and pulled something out.

	Sandra would have been thrilled with more cash to help her toward her dream but was puzzled when he handed her a business card. There was no name or address on it, just a finely engraved phone number.
"When you get there, or while you're on your way, please don't hesitate to call for anything," he said. "If I am not available, there will be people to attend to you until I can reach you."

	Sandra stared at the card and reverently slipped it into her shorts pocket. Then she hugged Boyce, the top of her head barely clearing his stomach. With a mild bump, the yacht reached the pier and the Knobby Shoals Mobile Homes Estates awaited her.

	As his wife lay snoring in a bed that reeked of stale beer, Van sat up with a raging hard-on. He patted his pecker proudly, pleased that it was well revived even after a few rounds of sex with the woman. Too bad Sandra wasn't home - the way her mother was snoring, he could have given her a good plugging while the mama was still sleeping last night off.

	But Sandra had said she was sleeping over at a friend's. It was Chyna, he was pretty sure. With a snort, he mused about his stepdaughter's chubby friend. Such a little goody-two-shoes, that one was. She'd probably scream at the sight of a dick. But he thought her thick, curly hair was real pretty.

	In his head, he pictured what that hair would feel like in his hands as he grabbed it while jamming his cock into that little porker's ass. He snorted again as he imagined that kinds of noises she would make during a good hard butt-fuck. Making a mental note to sniff around the girl to see if he could have a go at her - add her to his underage harem, as it were, he curled his fingers around his erection.

	Chyna was naked behind his closed eyes, her plump ass cheeks wobbling as he pressed against her puckered hole. She was crying a little, making piggy sounds as he prepared to break open her ass cherry. As he got ready to punch his way into her bottom, his hand moved more quickly in his lap.

	The front door squeaked at it opened and Van's eyes shot open. His girlfriend was still snoring as Sandra walked in, looking fine in those shorts and the morning sun. She paused at the open bedroom door when he called her name in a low voice. Then he gave her a wide grin as he waved his stiff dick at her in invitation.

	Sandra was still aglow from last night and early this morning when she saw Van showing off. She let out a short bark of laughter before she covered her mouth and walked on, her body still shaking with mirth at the pathetic sight of her stepfather. 

	Van sat there next to the snoring woman with his mouth agape, stunned by Sandra's unexpected reaction. He was figuring she'd be cowed and on her knees before his mastery and incredible prick. Then he looked down at his lap and saw he had wilted.



madvlad@mrdouble.com
http://www.mrdouble.bz/htm/authors/madvlad.htm





















This story is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.


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