“Damn!” Maurice says, jumping to his left, hindered by his heavy boots, once again unable to catch the moist ping pong ball.  He picks it up off the cold ground and flips it to Sandy.  “That was some curve!” ​         “She’s left-handed, so it’s a screwball,” Tom points out.  As Sandy rinses the gritty ball in the bucket she flips another one to Patty.  With her left hand Patty pops it into her vagina.  In her other hand is a slice of pizza and she takes another bite.  The di

Brigid, Brigid...  How could he show his love for her in this crisis? He felt helpless, standing out in the hall with the suffering majorette trapped in that closet.  He decided to be heroic.  To hell with the band, it’s Brigid’s welfare first.  She could not emerge as she was.  He would give her his jacket, which would serve to cover her nipples.  Then he would go out with her, and she could act sick with the jacket draped over her, and he’d tell Sarge that Brigid was ill an

She stood up and shook the water off herself like a dog, and gathered her hair behind her and squeezed out the excess.  Then looked up at the building.  No, no one had seen her.  She looked back down at the spout and turned it off.  God, that felt good.  Thank you God, for giving this to me and letting me feel all these wonderful sensations.           The hot dry sun lovingly and quickly licked her dry as she bent this way and that to expose every part of her perfect, tanned

As Phil and Duvon kept talking, with Kai-Kai mostly listening, Angela’s mind wandered to the heavy burden of work she had this summer. A lot of documents had come in from Russia and she had been working with Ludmilla Woronov, a P-7 of Russian descent who lived a couple of hours away by car. She was the proud mother of Project triplets, who would stay over their grandparents’, along with her other three children, so that Angela and Mrs. Woronov could work undistracted. Mrs. Wo

February 3.           Today I made my first close-up observation of Miss Tami Smithers.  As arranged, I went to Professor Brignon of the Art Department, who explained that Miss Smithers had agreed to serve as a model for their figure drawing classes.  Miss Smithers had come to their rescue, because the college had announced that this semester it would be opening up these classes (along with some others) to the community and to the students at the local community college, only

We followed Dr. Harridance back into the bright circular lab.  I didn’t want to look but I couldn’t help myself.  The slight, slender body of the nude 18-year-old-girl was shaking even more than before.  She was gasping, her flat midriff heaving in and out, her toes curling and uncurling below the ankle cuffs.  I can’t deny the fact that I am a human male, and even at my age I found myself feeling some sexual arousal at this powerful sight.  I immediately tried to suppress it

One of the guys had thrown a clod of dried mud at her, hitting her on her side, just below the armpit.  It was followed by another, hitting her on the side of the butt.  Soon she was target practice for a series of dirt bombs, one after another.  It was hard to believe these jerks could be so cruel but they were having a great time at it.           As she got higher up she suffered a particularly nasty shot, a cross-blow on the side of the breast.  This was followed by anothe

The naked girl, sweating from her long travels since leaving the Daughters of Judith, her body marked up by the branches and leaves and dirt she had walked through, her bare feet muddy and scratched up by brambles, stumbled through the steaming Georgia woods and crouched down, finding herself in front of a clearing.                   It was a big garden.  Behind, some fields, and a large building, looking like a big school, out of place in the middle of this wilderness.  And

“Hey Brigid,” another guy said as he passed, “are ya -- FRIGID?”           He could detect Brigid giving him the finger from under the table.  He was fascinated by her even more now.  She could give as well as she got.           “Woo!  Look!  The girl scouts!”  Debra’s announcement got the three of them up.  Careful to put her sandals on first, Brigid joined the rest of them as they went up to the big window facing the street.  They stepped up onto the low sill and pressed th

The gregarious Mr. Penka sat down next to his wife and took over the conversation. He had a folder with him from which he took an article cut out from an old-style newspaper. “This is from Dnevnik, the biggest newspaper in Sofia, the capital,” he explained. The article was in Bulgarian, which no one understood, but was clearly about his wife’s participation in the Project, topped by a photo of the two of them, smiling next to a man in a business suit who Mr. Penka said was th

“She can speak.  And read!”  Rydall, in his ragged tunic, hat off, hair wild around his ears, staggers into the kitchen, to an astonished Mr. and Mrs. Whyte.  The wife is horrified to see the naked girl so close to the doorstep.  “Get that -- witch away from this house!”         “She is no witch!”  Though it is not his place to do so, Rydall pushes the garlic and the St. Benedict medals away from their place on the window sill.  “You have no need of these.  Though I have be

The radiator is fixed but it needs a new thermostat which won’t come in until tomorrow.  That’s ok -- I want to stay in this town until I find out more about Sukie, the girl who is always naked. ​             I wait until just before school is out before walking into town.  I sit on the same bench, at the same time. Again, the school bus empties with middle-school kids.  Again, some high school kids walk by.  But no Sukie, nor any of her friends (I think).  Half an hour goes

“I don’t know anything!” Dareen protested.  “You can’t harm these people!  Leave them alone!”           “We haven’t done anything yet, Ms. Alkaras.  We do not want any harm to come to your brother or to anyone else.  We just want you to tell us what you know.  We are patient and will wait until you decide to tell us.”           “I don’t know anything!” she repeated.  She stamped her foot and pleaded.  “You have to believe me!  You saw me in that cold room with those weights s

The sun hitting her face woke her up.  It must be mid-morning by now.  She got up and brushed the dry blades of grass out of her hair, off her breasts, then pulled them out from where they had stuck to her short pussy hair and even lodged behind between her butt cheeks.  Time to approach the rest stop and form a plan.  Her previous experience with a rest stop had taught her to be careful.  She remembered the college-age girl with the little car full of clothes, whom she had s

Even in the dim twilight her dark Mexican skin must be easy to spot against this wall of concrete.  She certainly couldn’t go down the rungs to be easy prey on flat ground.  The only way to escape was up.  She tried to skip a rung, stretching her foot way up so that her legs were almost a ballet dancer’s split, but she couldn’t get any muscle power that way.  So she just climbed faster.  Soon she was at the top.  She would hop onto the high ground and -- ​         But no.  Th

October 31               It used to be beatniks.  Now it’s astronaut suits for boys, Jackie Kennedy outfits for the girls.  A long time ago Ethel realized that it’s all just good fun and not some kind of quasi-demonic ritual.  Her big, nurturing breasts wobble welcomingly as she bends over and with a wide smile hands out apples and boxes of raisins, and the rice krispies bars she has made.  She puts half dollars into the little UNICEF cartons and is careful to praise every co

[another knock on door]  Come in. [middle-aged woman in wraparound dress enters with young woman, nude] DR. CHO        Welcome, Elena, Dinka.  Wow Dinka, you’re                         getting even darker. DINKA            [giggles, unsteady on her feet] ELENA           She’s trying for Fitzgerald One, sunning two                         hours every day. ALISON          There might have to be a Fitzgerald Type Zero                         for her . . .  Dinka is from Sudan, n

They emerged from the limousine after another tense two-hour drive, still a bit bleary-eyed despite the coffees they had forced down when they met at the British Consulate at 4 a.m.  There were only five of them this time, Lady Fanshaw and Mr. Zinowsky being unable to make it.           Coats and gloves were necessary.  Early mornings in the Gobi are cold even in August.  Peggy was glad she wore fur-lined boots over heavy socks.  They poked around the perimeter of the exhibit

November 26 ​         Today would be Thanksgiving Day in the United States but of course it was no special day here.  In town I was able to make out a poster announcing a town meeting tonight and I decided to go. ​         There was a town council of five older people and they were hearing public comment on what sounded like -- a “tourist pier”?  A man in a suit, evidently an outsider, explained the project and took questions.  My sense was that the townspeople would be happy

Venus ventures into the yard, despite the danger of poop on slippers, and walks over to Momma.  Hugging herself in her bathrobe, she watches as corn is spread.               “Look at Hazel,” she says.               “Yes, it’s bad.”  Hazel is their name for the lowest hen in the pecking order.  As usual, her feathers are half picked off.               “Why is Simon [the rooster] so mean?”               “It’s not Simon.  What does he have to complain about?  He’s got ten hens h