Andrew Roller Presents
FUCK DECENCY
Issue No. 113
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in
Field of Desire
Chapter One
"Now we can look just alike," Monique had said. "And share the same
experiences." Monique wore a white frock, white skirt, and silver heels
with no stockings. Her blouse, however, buttoned in front, while Annie's
had sexy ties. Monique bade Annie dress "in the same clothes Pierre found
so appealing when we picked you up." Annie did so. They had shared
breakfast with Pierre, and several of Monique's friends. Afterwards, to
Annie's envy, Pierre had left for a walk in the fields behind the mansion
with two girls. Annie had asked Monique if she could join them. Monique
had told Annie they must clean up the dishes first. Pouting, wondering
why Monique had let her servants off for the day, Annie had helped
Monique. They wore bibs to protect their frocks.
"Come," Monique said, shifting her langorous gaze to Annie as they
made their way across the field. "Luxuriate in the sunshine's warmth. Do
you think you will always have the comfort of looking beautiful, strolling
unclothed across a field?"
"The hay is sharp," Annie said of the yellow stalks that had been
crushed to form a path beneath her feet.
"You may keep your heels on," Monique smiled. "And your lovely
earrings."
"You French are strange," Annie said.
"We are not strange, my dear," Monique said. She walked bare
breasted through the hay with an air of unaffected confidence. "We simply
enjoy nature as God intended us to."
"Without your clothing," Annie said. Unconsciously her fingers drew
upon her drawstring, loosening it.
"Of course," Monique said. Seeing the inner slopes of Annie's breasts
break from the confines of her corsage, Monique stopped. She reached
behind herself and unzipped her dress. It fell away, revealing skimpy
panties tied with lace. "You really must undress. Everyone else there will
be naked. It is our custom." Annie, perhaps in response to the sun's heat,
slipped the next tie on her corsage. She thought of Pierre.
"What will we do at the cabin...without clothes?" Annie asked.
"Why, everything," Monique said. "You expect nude men and women to
be at a loss for activities?"
"But, I mean, I've heard things about, well, aboutÑ"
"Yes?" Monique asked. Her placid eyes regarded Annie. They were
like deep, wide pools, open yet mysterious. Her panties only covered half
her bottom. The acclivity of her upper posterior shone palely in the sun.
Annie looked away from the woman and down at her feet, over the jiggling
expanse of her half naked breasts.
"Speak your fears," Monique urged Annie. The girl walked in silence.
With every step her mammaries joggled out more of their flesh from her
corsage.
"Do you fear the whip?" Monique asked finally. Annie's skin tingled.
She bit her lower lip and nodded.
"Yes, Pierre does find the whip an engaging implement," Monique
said. Her eyes gazed across the field as the little cabin slipped into view.
"If you were to practise with it you would not find it so distasteful."
"I don't want to practise with it," Annie said. One of her areolas
wiggled above the top of her corsage.
"My, what a pedestrian life you wish to lead!" Monique exclaimed.
Then, as if to make a pun, she asked, "What do you think the wiggling of
your bottom says to a man as you walk down the street?
"I can't help the wiggling of my bottom," Annie said. She wanted to
reach up and tuck her nipple back into her top. It was traitorously erect.
Monique glanced behind her. In the distance, two men followed. They
came upon her corsage.
"Do you think your bottom was made for you alone to enjoy?" Monique
asked. "Should it not be put upon the male prong?"
"No," Annie said. Something inside her called her a liar.
"Consider a man's receptacle," Monique said. "Full of sperm, it
dangles between his legs, tormenting him. Would you make him suffer?"
"I don't want to suffer," Annie said.
"You mean your white bottom?" Monique asked. The woman had seen
her posterior two nights ago when they exchanged places in the shower.
"Such a lovely orb was made to sparkle, to be catered to by the whip. Such
doings only serve to excite the man, to make his excursion into the female
fundament all the more exquisite."
"Well, I haven't been whipped or taken up the butt," Annie said.
"Of course, and that is why your father suggested a trip to France,"
Monique said. Annie laughed.
"I doubt it," Annie said with mock incredulity. "He's pretty straight
laced."
"Are you sure?" Monique asked. "Perhaps I know him better than you."
Annie looked at the woman. She had entertained suspicions... "Yes,"
Monique said flatly. "We were lovers. And although you were only a girl of
10 then, I was 17. It was your father who first introduced me to that
which you fear."
"No way," Annie said. "My mommie would have found out."
"She was included," Monique said. Annie stopped dead in her tracks.
Monique walked up to the girl. She brushed a wayward strand of hair
from the blonde's face. She told Annie to lift her arms. The blonde's eyes
gazed into hers for a moment, and then she complied. Monique took the
hem of Annie's corsage in her hands and lifted it. The garment cleared
Annie's boobs and they wobbled with newfound freedom.
Monique let Annie's midriff hang around her head for a moment as the
girl stood before her with upraised arms. Annie stood in blind silence.
Monique bent forward. Her lips touched Annie's erect right nipple and she
kissed its tip. Annie shivered in her captivity.
"I can't see!" Annie mewed, but she really wanted to protest the
molestation of her nipple. Monique lifted her head from Annie's breast and
smiled. Unseen by Annie, there was a look of matronly caring in her eyes.
Monique plucked Annie's corsage from her arms. Annie stood for a
moment with arms still upraised, her eyes fixed on the woman who had
just pecked her teat.
"Shall I do your dress too?" Monique asked.
"No!" Annie said, suddenly regaining her senses. She dropped her
arms. Out the corner of her eye she saw her corsage lying discarded in the
hay. It hung low upon several broken stalks. In the distance she saw two
men approaching. They would find it.
Monique took Annie by the hand. She turned the girl about and
together they continued their journey toward the cabin. After another two
dozen yards or so Annie stopped.
"Oh, a dandelion!" Annie exclaimed with childlike wonder. She bent
over and plucked the stem of the flower from the lichens. As she pulled
her dangling naked titties jiggled in pendulous splendor. Her bottom, two-
thirds covered by her panties, yielded the top of her bottom crack. Her
skirt hung uselessly above the tip of her nether cleft, too short to provide
cover in such a posture. Its hem fluttered in the breeze.
Annie lifted the dandelion to her lips. The stem was topped by a
cottony white ball. It was ready to be denuded. Annie puffed upon the
flower. It broke from the stem and was carried off by the wind. Annie
watched with delighted eyes. She let the stem fall from her fingers.
Monique urged Annie on. At the top of a rise she stopped. Like a well
trained pony, Annie stopped beside her. Monique let go of Annie's hand.
She glanced back over her shoulder. In the distance stood the two men.
She guessed it was Steve and Mark, though she couldn't be sure. One man
held her cast off bodice in his hands.
Monique put her fingers to the ties of her drawers and loosed them.
The frilly white garment wafted to the ground. Annie couldn't help but
glance back at the woman's bottom. It bore no marks of her recent
whipping. Perhaps she had been gone yesterday to let it heal.
Monique took Annie's hand and they continued on their way. Monique
looked back several times. The men were getting closer. Still she could
not make out for certain who they were.
At the top of the next rise Monique reached beneath Annie's skirt.
Annie's drawers bore no convenient ties. Monique pulled them down
Annie's legs. As she lowered them she knelt. She held them about Annie's
ankles and bade Annie to step out of them. Annie complied.
Monique rose. Playfully she put Annie's panties to her own breasts.
She pressed the fabric to her chest. Her titties stuck out the leg holes.
Monique laughed, and even Annie couldn't help giggling.
Annie tried the same feat herself. "Look, Monique!" she cried, as her
own breasts thrust through the leg holes. Then Monique had her toss aside
the panties and they clasped hands and walked on. The ground grew rough,
and as they tottered through it they clasped each other's hand more tightly
to keep their balance.
"Ooh! There's another one!" Annie cried, her eyes alighting upon
another dandelion. She bent over again, this time causing her skirt to rise
to reveal a naked bottom. It's snowy, glossy surface invited the sun to
attempt to burn it red. Annie rose, her skirt falling protectively back over
her bum. In her hand she held her verdant treasure. She released its
blossom.
When another hilltop had been cleared the cabin was found to be
quite near. Monique stopped Annie and reached behind her. With a swift
motion she unzipped the blonde's dress. It split in two upon the curve of
Annie's bottom and then fell away.
Monique gazed into Annie's eyes. She told the girl to stand up
straight. Annie made herself as erect as she could. Her breasts wobbled
in their nakedness upon her chest. Her bottom thrust back, inviting
caresses.
"You look beautiful," Monique smiled at Annie. "Now let's see what
Pierre is up to." She led Annie up to the cabin door and knocked.
A girl peeked out, her naked breast peering around the edge of the
door just as Annie's had in the den only two days earlier. "What's the
password?" the girl said, a glint of mischief in her eyes.
"Bottoms are red,
"Pricks are blue,
"If I had a whip,
"I'd enjoy switching you," Monique said. She then turned to Annie and told
the girl to repeat the poem. With some difficulty, and cues from Monique,
the girl complied.
The door was opened for Annie and Monique just as the men behind
them rose over the last hill. They were much closer now. The two
females slipped inside, and the door was bolted behind them.
A female walked up to Annie and unceremoniously snapped a leather
collar about her neck. She locked it with a little key. Annie reached up
and felt the band.
"It betokens your status here," Monique said quietly. Annie gave a
little gulp.
The room before them had been built from logs. A mass of bearskin
rugs lay at the far end, before a crackling fire. Above the mantle hung a
whip. A window air conditioner hummed forth cool air. Annie's skin took
on a pleasant chill.
Pierre was nowhere to be seen, but sobbing from the next room made
Annie guess he might be there. Monique, however, seemed not interested
in tracking down her lover. She led Annie across the room's rough hewn
floor to the rugs before the fire. Already they were feeling cold. Monique
lay down on her back.
Monique spread her legs. Her chestnut thatch of pubic hair stared up
at Annie where it curled over her labia. Annie felt like a gynecologist.
Monique lifted both her legs and rested her heels on the front of a nearby
chair. She stretched, and folded her arms on the rug above her head. She
looked at Annie.
"Kneel down," Monique said. A girl came up behind Annie and took the
blonde by her shoulders. Annie knelt.
"Ms. Lacroix wishes you to lick her pussy," the girl at Annie's
shoulders said.
"I, I couldn't," Annie replied. Pierre appeared.
"Oh, Pierre!" Annie cried. He looked sweaty.
"Do as you're told," Pierre said simply to Annie. His chivalry was
gone. His penis stood forth in a demanding erection. His balls were
swollen and tight. The girl standing behind Annie pressed down on her
shoulders. Reluctantly Annie fell forward and her face pressed into
Monique's tummy. The rug felt soft against her breasts. Behind her the
girl spread her knees with her heel.
Annie looked up. Monique's eyes were closed. Annie glanced higher.
The whip hung above the mantle with wicked intent. Annie felt the plush
rug against her pussy. It felt good. If her bottom were whipped it would
wiggle and then her pussy would feel even more enthralled upon the soft
down.
Monique rolled her head and her eyelids opened.
"Don't pay any attention to those naughty people," Monique said. She
seemed utterly relaxed. Annie had butterflies in her stomach.
There was a knock at the door. The girl behind Annie left and went
to the door. She opened it. Annie watched as two men entered. Their eyes
met hers. They were still clothed. The girl who had admitted them knelt
and unzipped the first man's fly.
Her eyes still locked with the men's, Annie let the side of her face
come down to rest upon Monique's flat tummy. As Annie watched the
men's prongs brought out a pool of saliva formed in the corner of her
mouth. It drooled out and trickled onto Monique's belly, as if to attempt to
inseminate her. Monique reached down and stroked Annie's lovely head of
hair.
Pierre had retreated after issuing his order. A crack of leather was
heard, followed by another. Annie snuggled her face and shoulders closer
to Monique's tummy. Her lips were just an inch above the woman's trim
pubic mound. Cries of pain began issuing from the next room.
Empathetically Annie wriggled her bottom. Her pussy ground against the
carpet.
The girl who had unleashed the new arrivals left them to return to
Annie. She looked up at the girl with wide, fearful eyes. The two men who
had just come in sat down in leather chairs at the far side of the room, as
if to watch what the girl standing over Annie was about to do. An
unclothed female came into the room and served the men drinks.
"You must forgive poor Annie her recalcitrance," Monique said to the
girl standing over Annie. "It is her first visit to our little hideaway."
"Oh," the girl said. "Well, I'm glad you could come, uh, even though you
haven't come yet." The girl giggled. "My name's Sally. And yours is
Annie?"
"Y-Yeth," Annie lisped. The cries of the girl being whipped in the
next room reached an even higher pitch.
"Let me baptize your bottom," Sally said. She reached for the
mantle. Annie flinched and was about to spring up. Sally's fingers
alighted upon a bottle of oil hung just below the mantle, inside the brick
cavity of the fireplace. Annie surmised the contents of the bottle must be
hot, suspended so close to the fire's licking flames.
Ouch!" Sally said, drawing her fingers suddenly back from the bottle.
"Use the cloth, that's what it's for," Monique said. Sally obeyed,
taking a little linen cloth that hung on a peg next to the bottle in her hand.
Then she used the cloth to pluck the bottle from its holder. She unplugged
the bottle. Its cut crystal surfaces sparkled in the firelight. Sally tilted
the bottle.
"Ooch!" Annie cried. She squirmed. A drop of hot oil had fallen on her
heinie. Again Sally tilted the bottle, and again Annie's bottom was
anointed with the fluid. Annie's pussy felt delightful as her wrigglings
caused it to rub on the exquisitely soft bearskin.
PLUGS
by holy joe
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-END OF 113 EMISSION