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Issue No. 11     

Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in 
Love Child

Chapter Seven

         With the moon riding high, Mark finally hit on a plan.  "I know a 
lady," he said.  "A really cool lady.  She's young, too, like us, and has a 
cool husband.  I washed her horses once or twice, as a favor from 
mistress to her.  But she was really nice to me, and she told me she 
doesn't like mistress at all, just pretends she does to keep up 
appearances and avoid a squabble.  
         "I--well, Hell!  I was washing the horses in my regulation 
Speedos, and this lady, Gretchen, she came out of her house and struck 
up a conversation with me.  She was topless, just wearing little bikini 
panties, and it was a hot day.  She invited me to go swimming with her 
in her pool, since we were both dressed for it.  I told her I only wore 
the Speedos because mistress made me, not because I was planning to 
go swimming or anything.  And she said, 'Mistress won't be back 'til 
four.  You can swim without them for all I care.  And the horse certainly 
won't mind if you don't wear them!'  That made me laugh.  So I stripped 
the damn things off and threw them in the mud.  
         "'Well, now the horse is naked, and you're naked, and I'm the only 
one who's being modest," Gretchen laughed.  I told her not to take off 
her panties, though, because I didn't want to get in trouble with her 
husband.  
         "It's bad enough you're standing out here topless," I said.  "And 
you'd better damn well tell me if your husband comes home, because I'm 
going to get those Speedos on right quick if he does."  She laughed and 
kissed me then, just like that, pressing her breasts against me, which 
were the loveliest I'd ever seen.  Then she took of her panties and 
helped me wash down her horse.  It was wonderful.  It was the freest 
I've ever felt.  We scrubbed the horse, and she fell on her butt once or 
twice in the slick mud.  We dumped water on each other and I was sure 
we were going to make love when suddenly mistress came back, an hour 
early.  I had to stuff myself back into my Speedos and Gretchen ran into 
the house and threw some clothes on.  She didn't want to cross 
mistress, you know.  They bought their house from her and were still 
paying her for it.  It's this great chateau, not real big, but not too small 
either, a perfect 'love nest,' if you know what I mean, for a young 
couple just starting out in life.  It's not too far...we could make it and 
maybe spend the night there!"
         Melissa and I agreed that a "love nest" sounded like an agreeable 
location.  The rubbing of our pussies on the velvet cloth was tormenting 
us.  At first I'd been so worried about escaping I hardly noticed its 
effect but now, our pace having slowed, I found myself shivering with 
need.  I felt an orgasm coming on fast and told Mark to stop, that I had 
to go to the bathroom.
         Mark waited, holding the horse, while Melissa and I crouched in 
the grass and peed.  He looked so wonderful, standing there, a few yards 
away, his form large and dark against the shadowy trees.
         "Do you need to too?" I asked Melissa furtively.
         "I already did," she replied.  "I bit my lip so you wouldn't hear.  But 
Mark saw me trembling, stroked my back, and that made me cum all the 
harder."
         "You mean you were sitting up there rubbing yourself off on the 
horse?!" I asked.  Melissa looked downcast, said nothing.
         "Well, don't feel bad, I almost came, several times, in fact.  Mark 
is lucky.  He can ride the thing without coming in direct contact with it.  
He has balls."
         "I noticed," Melissa said impishly.  "They're so huge, I worry about 
them popping open."  She giggled.  Then, more solemnly, almost 
curiously, "Do you think they'll be empty by morning?"
         "Where, up your tiny butthole?  I saw you trying to get him up you.  
What makes you think you can even take him in your pussy?"
         "I can try," she said whiningly.
         "You couldn't even get him in your mouth," I chided.
         "Well, you have a big butt hole and you will shove him right up 
before I ever get a chance!" Melissa said reproachfully.  She stood up 
and hastened back to the horse.  I followed, quietly, not sure what to 
make of her temper-tantrum.  We were all at about our wit's 
end...spanked, hot, chilly, fleeing from the half-known into the unknown.
         Mark mounted us back on the horse, his hand firm on our heinies, 
then mounted himself and jibed the horse into action.
         Daffodils glowed in the moonlight as we pulled up in front of 
Gretchen's chalet.  Mark dropped down from the horse, saying, "Let me 
go knock first."  Looking about, he ran up to the door, cock waggling, 
looking like some streaker from the 70's.  To our horror it was 
Gretchen's husband who answered the door!
         "Uh, good evening young man," he said, slightly startled and quite 
definitely amused.  We could hear his voice easily, booming out across 
the front lawn.  "You have some fine equipment there, son, but I don't 
know if the local constable would approve of you displaying it so, ah, 
prominently."
         "Mark!" a cheery voice called out suddenly, and a young woman's 
figure appeared in the doorway.  The glow of a fire, somewhere inside 
the chalet, made her appear as a darkened figure against the brighter 
light of the home's interior.  I thought I saw her breasts bobbing, 
freely, it seemed.  "You're bound to get a girl pregnant walking around 
like that.  Come in!  We're having some friends over for a birthing class.  
I definitely think you should join us."
         "He does seem suitably poised to impregnate someone, doesn't 
he?" Gretchen's husband asked rhetorically.  Mark was as stiff as a log 
and riding around with two bouncing, naked girls hadn't helped any.
         "Uh, can my friends come in?" Mark asked.  He turned, gazed out 
across the yard, beckoned us.  We slid down from the horse and traipsed 
across the grass, picking our way in our ridiculously high heels.  Our 
breasts had long since popped from our bras as we rode, twin peaks of 
cream still gleaming on our nipples.  My panties had ripped in back.  
Melissa coyly put her hands over her pussy as we came up to the door.
         Gretchen and her husband, Bob, gave us a warm, understanding 
welcome.  I saw to my surprise that Gretchen was topless, her breasts 
floating easily on her chest, above her narrow ribs.  Mark was right.  
They were truly a lovely pair; full and round, but coming to luscious 
points at the tips, with just a touch of gourdliness to them, which 
seemed to make them all the more bewitching.  She had big round 
dollar-coin sized nipples, from which her nipples sprouted freely.  She 
wore a brown plaid neckerchief.  Her hair, braided into country-girl 
pigtails, was tied at the ends with pieces of hemp rope.  The hair 
around her face, though, was loose, unbraided, and the last two inches 
of each pigtail was unbraided, giving her a casual air.  She was barefoot 
but wore soft, tight-fitting jeans, and looking at them I suspected she 
had no panties on underneath.
         The interior of the chalet consisted of a hardwood floor, with 
Indian-patterned throw rugs cast upon it.  The furniture was antique, or 
even hand-made, but nicely rubbed and polished.  As Mark explained our 
predicament gave us wet towels and had us wipe ourselves down.  
Melissa and I slipped out of our silly bikinis and wiped off the whipped 
cream.  We threw off our heels and wiped the dew off our feet.
         "Come in and meet our other guests," Gretchen urged.  Fresh and 
feeling sprightly, we followed her into an adjacent room.  There was no 
furniture in it, just mats covered with crisp white sheets.  Two men 
and two women sat cross-legged, the men in shirts but no pants, one 
woman in frayed cut-offs, the other wearing just her panties.  If they'd 
arrived in clothes they must have hung them up outside, for in the small 
room itself there was only a book and a tube of KY jelly.  Several slow-
burning candles cast the room in romantic shadows.  Mirrors on the 
walls made sure all aspects of everyone's nudity could be seen by 
everyone present.
         "You're in luck!" Gretchen said happily to Mark, giving his dick and 
balls a teasing glance.  "We're just getting started.  Jamie here wanted 
to have a baby, and pretty soon all three of us wanted to."  We sat down 
with the two couples, nodding politely at them, Melissa, Mark and I 
totally nude.  "So tonight we've all three decided to try to get pregnant, 
but first we're going to study what its like to have a baby...you know, 
how to actually give birth to one, and what it's like to take care of it!"  
She then told the other couples our names, and gave us their first 
names.  "Now of course we'll be covering breast feeding, so of course 
the women must be topless.  And the poor men could hardly be expected 
to sit in their tight pants watching three beautiful pairs of breasts 
bobbing around, so we let them take them off.  Of course, they'll need to 
have them off later in any case."  She smiled, gave a flip of her pigtails.  
"But this first part is serious.  If this baby stuff is too much, we're 
going to postpone getting pregnant.  So let's listen up and I'll do my 
best to lead us through a basic understanding of pregnancy and birth.  I 
had some nursing courses in college so I think I can explain it alright, 
although I sometimes used nursing class to sleep off my love of 
dancing!"  
         She read about breathing first, how to practise your breathing for 
labor, and we sat there in the candlelight, each of us a hand on our 
chest, breathing in and out.  Then she went on to labor, and delivery, and 
then breast feeding.  The men's eyes seemed to light up when she went 
into that part:
         "During pregnancy your breasts are preparing to produce milk," 
she explained.  "Hormones promote the growth of special breast tissue 
designed to produce milk.  Your breasts will slowly increase in size, 
and the nipples will become more prominent.
         "About two days after delivery, tour milk comes in.  Initially your 
breasts may feel uncomfortable.  They will be much larger than usual, 
and tender.  The best cure for this discomfort is a hungry baby.
         "If you are uncomfortable for the first few days of nursing, try 
putting ice packs on your breasts.  Nursing your infant will help ease 
the discomfort of engorged breasts.  A bra that offers good support 
helps too.  Remember, your breasts will feel full, but the discomfort 
should go away once you are nursing regularly.
         "Many women find it difficult to relax during nursing.  The milk is 
in the breast but it does not come out easily when the baby sucks.  A 
quieter and more relaxing environment may be all that is necessary.
         "During the postpartum period you may have problems with your 
breasts, as mentioned earlier.  Engorgement is often a painful 
condition.  Your breasts will probably become swollen, and sore.  If the 
engorgement is severe, you may have to use a breast pump or express 
your milk manually for a few days.  Begin nursing as soon as possible to 
alleviate this condition.  Ice packs may alleviate some of the swelling.
         "Some women get cracked nipples from breast feeding.  This is 
easy to cure.  When baby is not feeding keep your nipples dry.  Some 
doctors recommend drying your nipples with a hair dryer after feeding 
baby.  Exposure to air also is helpful."  Gretchen smiled, looked up.  "So 
you see, girls, going topless around the house is a perfect way to keep 
your nipples healthy after childbirth.  And I'm sure your husbands won't 
mind a bit."  She looked back at her book.
         "A soothing cream such as lanolin can also help your nipples.  
         "Now...what you eat influences the amount and quality of the milk 
you produce.  You need to consume extra calories.  This will help 
guarantee good milk production."
         I glanced around at the men.  They were painfully alert, in 
mind...and body.  I thought their penises seemed about to begin a little 
milk production of their own.  Bob, whose shirt had covered his 
nakedness when I first met him at the door, turned out to have a very 
fine member.  Gretchen had chosen her mate well.  The other men were 
well endowed too, and I couldn't help running my tongue over my lips as 
I regarded them.  Bob noticed, smiled.  I blushed.
         "Let's practise expressing our milk, girls," Gretchen said.  "Rest 
your hand above your nipple, press down gently.  Baby will be 
underneath."  She put her hand to her breast and pretended to express 
milk from it.  We followed her example.  The room seemed very quiet 
then.  I let my hand, which was resting on my thigh, slip between them.  
Absently, looking at Bob, I flicked my cunny with my thumb.  It was as 
if I was pointing to it, inviting him in.  He stared at me, enchanted.  
Each girl seemed to fix on a man.  Gretchen met eyes with Mark.  There 
was an electricity in the air.
         Gently I palpitated my right breast, imagining I was feeding a 
baby, my baby, my big strong baby.  I licked my lips again.  I heard 
Melissa sigh.
         "Now let's have a volunteer, men," Gretchen said.  "One for each 
girl.  We know you're all big babies anyway, so this should be easy for 
you."  She didn't have to ask the men twice.  The breast which I had 
offered to Bob in play he now accepted in reality.  He suckled avidly, 
and I pretended to give him my milk.  He soon had me gasping.  Gretchen 
practised breastfeeding with Mark.  Melissa was the odd girl out, for 
the other two couples practised on each other.  So, casting about, she 
selected one of Gretchen's teats, first sucking, then feeding Gretchen 
herself, while Mark all the while nursed from them both.  "My, you must 
be quite a hungry baby, to need four breasts," Gretchen teased him.  
Other than that little else was said.  It was, as the book had advised, a 
quiet and relaxing environment, lit by candlelight.
         Before things could go completely astray Gretchen called the 
group to order, brushing her hair from her face and composing herself 
with some difficulty.  The others in the group broke apart reluctantly, 
but there was no hurry, really, and everyone knew that.  The night was 
to be savored, especially since it might well be the last these women 
ever had as young wives, young maidens, free of the cares of 
motherhood.  Motherhood.  It sounded strange, yet special to me.  Did I 
want a baby of my very own?  I wondered.  I hadn't been keeping up too 
well with my Pill lately.  One of these men tonight might prove father 
to my child, if I let him.  Could I refuse?
         "About that pussy," Gretchen began with a giggle, summarizing 
the next part of her lecture.  "Your vagina is apt to be sore.  Time for 
healing is needed.  Gently clean the area daily.  Hot baths may help ease 
the discomfort.
         "To help the vaginal muscles, do the Kegel exercise.  You simply 
tighten your vaginal muscles as you would if you needed to stop 
urinating in midstream.  Hold it for a few seconds, release, and repeat 
several times."  She looked up at her husband.  "Robert, would you fetch 
the chamber pot please?"  He got up, cock swinging stiffly, and stepped 
to the door.  A moment later he returned with a big brass chamber pot, 
enough for all us girls to pee in.  He set it down and Melissa, actually 
needing to go, went first.  Gretchen helped her learn the exercise.  Then 
I went, then Gretchen, but because of Melissa's "contribution," the pot 
was pretty full, so Robert took a break and emptied it for us.  When he 
returned the last two girls went.  "Men can try this too," Gretchen said 
coquettishly.  "It helps with orgasmic control."  So the men, quite 
interested in that, practised stopping and starting the flow of their 
urine, until they were all empty.  Robert removed the pot then, and we 
all sat back down.  There was tension in the air.
         "Now," Gretchen said, her voice quavering just a bit.  "We've 
decided that it's all for one and one for all...all or nothing.  So we must 
take a vote.  Shall we get pregnant, or not?"  Melissa was the first to 
raise her hand.
         "Not you, silly!" I said, batting it down.
         "Well I want to get fucked at least," Melissa whined.  "I mean, if 
everyone else is going to."
         "There's not even someone here for you," I said.
         "Well, you're going to abstain, aren't you, Miss Purity?" she 
taunted me.
         "Now girls, from the looks of the men's testicles, I'm sure there's 
enough to go around for everyone," Gretchen said.  "We told them that 
we each expected a tribute from them, and they'd best be full for the 
occasion.  As you can see, a week of enforced abstinence was most 
helpful.
         "Shit, I haven't come in a week myself.  I know I've got plenty," 
Mark said.
         "Yes, you OBVIOUSLY do," Gretchen said.  "Either that or God traded 
yours with a horse's when you were born."  Melissa and I couldn't help 
tittering at that.  He did have big ones, and an equally proportioned 
cock.
         "How old are you?" Robert asked Mark.
         "Seventeen, sir."
         "Well, you did quite well by the Lord for such a young lad," Bob 
replied.  "John Bobbitt should call you for a donation sometime."  We all 
laughed.  Everything was growing more carefree by the moment.

MANÕS DEEPEST PROBLEMS
Handily Solved by holy joe

         I was sitting at home last night, wondering about my sexual identity.    
And suddenly I realized that I am a man...who is a lesbian!  I saw, on CNN, 
those high school girls in Utah who are lesbians.  And I was thinking, 
ÒSurely those girls need an academic advisor.  They must be told about the 
evils of men.Ó  Who better than a man who is a lesbian to tell them?
         And I was thinking further.  (This is usually a dangerous thing for 
me.)  Why is it that there are only high school gay and lesbian clubs?  
Certainly there must be girls in junior high who are lesbians.  And girls in 
elementary school too.  They must have guidance also.  (I see that there 
could be a lot of work cut out for me in Utah.)
         Surely, if you are a man, there could be nothing better than marrying 
a lesbian.  Most guys worry that when theyÕre not home their wife might 
be cheating on them.  Well, if sheÕs a lesbian, who cares?  SheÕs cheating 
with another woman!  As far as IÕm concerned, her lover can move right in 
with us!  Give her the guest bedroom.  Better yet, she can sleep WITH us, 
right in the same bed.  ÒShare and share alike,Ó thatÕs my motto.  And have 
you ever heard of the wife who has multiple lovers?  Most guys would be 
absolutely shattered to learn that their wife was cheating on them with 
several lovers.  But if theyÕre lesbian lovers, they can ALL move in!  
ÒBedtime, honey,Ó could mean a mind-blasting orgy with a dozen women!  
         Which brings up another deep-seated male anxiety:  premature 
ejaculation.  (Sorry, Senator Exon, I realize you donÕt have this problem.  
The last time you shot off was in 1955.)  Anyway, I see marrying a lesbian 
as a kind of insurance plan.  If I cum early, she can just turn to her 
(lesbian) lover for satisfaction.  And with two women in bed, IÕm more 
likely to stay hard.  So I win, and my wife does too.  Also, letÕs say my 
wife Òsleeps around.Ó  Every week a different lover.  As long as itÕs a 
lesbian lover, thereÕs no problem.  Imagine having a new woman in your bed 
every week.  ÒHi honey,Ó my wife would say, greeting me after a hard day 
at the office.  ÒMeet my new lover, Lisa.  Lisa, this is my husband...Ó  
         In time, having to serve many women, I would cease to ejaculate 
prematurely.  My dick and balls would probably grow to massive 
proportions.  Fighting for the covers in bed with all those (lesbian) lovers 
would build up my arms and legs.  And IÕd lower my Internet bill.  
         So if youÕre a lesbian, and your school refuses to give you someplace 
to meet, donÕt despair!  Holy Joe will find you someplace nice and 
comfortable.  IÕll even serve you breakfast in bed!

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Andrew Roller.  Chat:  alt.sex.stories.d    END OF 11 EMISSION