Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 I found this story on an old 3.5" disk in a box hidden amongst moms stuff.
We're moving and it's been my job to pack up and toss out her old crap.

   Mom seemed to love Asstr - or at least it seems so from her journal - so
I thought I would post this here.  I cleaned up a few typos and added a few
words here and there.  Mom was always a terrible proof reader.

   As usual, please don't post this anywhere else.  With mom gone, I guess
this story belongs to me now, and I'd rather it just be here with the
people she loved and nowhere else.

   I think this is perhaps the most innocent story of mom's I've ever
found. I hope you enjoy it and perhaps you'll see a side of her that brings
you closer to her memory.

   If you feel the need to reach out, it's twylamarie @ ymail.com - same
email as when she was alive.  I check through her mail time and again just
to be closer to her.

   --------------------------------------------------

   The big championship game was about 40 miles north.  A slow drive given
the bad weather and one that they were recommending we take very slowly,
especially on the way home after the game.  The high school had rented some
buses, but they were already full with the booster clubs, bands and the
players families and the girlfriends.

   If we were to get there, we'd have to drive.  We begged our parents
using every tool we had promising better homework, more chores and anything
else we could think of.  The last of the four of us - me - got permission
just hours before the tickets sold out.  We all looked forward to the big
day.

   It was a cold Friday - rain with an occasional snow flurries.  By 4:30
it was already getting dark.  We joined the parade of cars exiting town
towards the highway.  When the caravan of boosters headed up the onramp to
go north, we kept going east.  Within a half hour we would be at the small
fishing cabin Mark's family owned.

   The drive was mostly back roads, so we got a head start on what would be
our own evenings festivities.  We passed around a good joint and Connie and
Mark started making out in the backseat.  Matt and I were in the front seat
where he drove while I took charge of the radio and occasionally bent
across the stick shift to give him a kiss and a quick squeeze.  No liquor
though - Matt had a phobia about passing around bottles after being pulled
over during the summer - but plenty enough forbidden behavior that anything
we might have heard on the radio was drowned out by laughter, shouting and
the occasional small moan.

   Once we got to the cabin, it took about a half hour to get the fire lit
and another half hour or so until it was actually not freezing.  We took
the opportunity to pass around a few bottles of beer and another joint.  My
friend Connie was already wasted, her long blonde hair tangled and her
clothes bunched up and unbuttoned in places where Mark had been playing
with here little plum sized boobies.  Matt and Mark seemed intoxicated in
other ways.  It was not hard to figure out what was on their minds.

   As we exited the car and entered the building, Connie's boy Mark was his
regular self - red bloodshot eyes glowing out of his solid six foot frame.
I didn't want to tell him that he was completely unzipped and had some
tunneling going on in his undershorts where it looked like Connie had let
her own fingers roam.  Matt and I thought it was funny and Connie was too
out there to notice.

   We drank and smoked and huddled around the small fire until it became a
big one.  As the flames grew, the content of the bottles disappeared, and
soon we started started making out.  It was awkward, the four of us on the
dirty old rug in front of the fireplace and also getting very warm, so we
at some point all quite pointedly made the move to a more comfortable
position.

   Mark was a good host.  He let us take the small bed and they spread out
on the lone couch.  It was a single room cabin lit up only by the fire.  We
were apart but still together - each movement and moan no secret to any of
the rooms inhabitants.

   The four of us had been out together before, and Connie and I had no
secrets as far as our relationships with guys or anything, but it was still
a big next step for us to get serious in that little cabin in where we
could see each other by the firelight.  But young lust finds a way and
slowly but surely our shear horniness broke down the barriers.

   I remember that at one point Matt had been face down in my bra so long
that he actually got his long hair caught in my necklace and used it as an
excuse why he simply HAD to take my top off.  Mark had his face buried in
Connie's tits anyway so it shouldn't have mattered, but I found myself shy
to take off my blouse.

   It was something that I had done in front of Matt probably a dozen times
and Connie and I had even shared showers, but having him in the room made
it feel like my first time again so I pushed Matt's hand away from the
buttons a few times when normally I'd have helped him along.  It was only
after Mark took the time to actually slide her blouse over Connie's head
that I felt comfortable undoing my top.

   Later, our blouses and bra finally shed, the gentle dance of young
seduction continued.  Our tits - mine too big for my frame and Connie's
perhaps just a bit too small - were on open display and glistened in the
firelight with a combination of saliva and perspiration.  I had Matt's
penis out but held it somewhat discretely, and I'm sure that Connie was
fondling marks through his open and unzipped trousers.

   I couldn't help notice that Connie was stalling Mark in his quest to
take off her pants - something I knew she'd allowed more than once in their
still young relationship.  Instead she waited until Matt was giving me
small kisses on my body and making his way down my belly towards my belt
line before she allowed him to raise her ass up and jerk them off her thin
frame.

   She still had on her panties but the top elastic was comically stretched
out from where Mark had been exploring her with his hand.  When he moved
back down and didn't remove her last clothing, I kind of figured that was
the golden rule for the evening - the panties would stay on.  It seemed
like an unspoken rule had been stuck as to where the limits would be for
the evening.

   I allowed Matt to take off my pants as well, but pushed him away when he
tried to remove my simply blue underpants.  I had been giving him a handjob
through his pants and unbuttoned and unzipped him further just to let him
know I wasn't going to leave him high and dry, and that seemed like it
would be okay for him.

   Matt and I went to work on each other.  He was so good with his hands
and he loved nothing more than to suck on my breasts like a newborn.  (I am
large up top and he wore his hair in a tight buzz cut as he was in
training. It looked like I had three big boobs of about equal size when I
looked down.) If it had ended up this wasy all evening, I'm sure we both
would have been happy getting each other off with our fingers.

   Matt had a shortcock I remember.  Not small and thin, but short and very
thick and hairy like a dwarf from a fantasy story.  It was like I was
gripping a 5" talk, rock hard soda can that sprouted up from a tangle of
pubic hair.  (We all had pubic hair then.) His cock was also darker than
the rest of his body - almost like he'd left it out tan one day.  I
remember being fascinated with it as it was so different than the rest of
his body.  (I liked cocks I had decided, and his was an odd specimen that
required close attention.)

   I was pretty engrossed in Matt and his cock when I heard the sofa creak
and turned to see Mark standing up to remove his underwear.  It had been a
while since I had given them any notice, and I observed that Connie had not
only lost her panties but her legs and sex were wide open and glistening.
She had told me that Mark enjoyed eating her cunt and it was not hard to
tell that this had been happening.  It was downright obscene and slightly
off putting as I was a victim of a Midwestern conservative upbringing.  I
wasn't very comfortable the idea of a wet open vagina yet - even my own.

   If Connie's cunt was a distraction though, it didn't last long as Mark's
penis was simply glorious.  I was everything that I had imagined every
penis should be at that young age.

   My early education was gleaned from filthy porn magazines and video
tapes that my friends and I had "borrowed" from the private collections of
fathers and brothers of friends.  Big, engorged and vein carved, it was
simultaneously erotic and frightening.  It looked like a weapon as it
glistened in the flickering light of the fire.

   Any desire I had to honor the "panties on" limit that I had made myself
melted away.  I was suddenly soaking wet and ready for just about anything,
any feelings of shyness or even decorum washed away in a flood of vaginal
fluids.

   I looked away from Mark's big red cock to Connie and found that she too,
had been admiring the view.  We passed a knowing look at each other.  One
of trust and lust and conspiracy.  She looked past me to Matt and opened
her legs, touching herself intimately and when Mark moved to mount her, she
rolled backward with her legs spread and then around him.  He was in her in
a single move and without a so much as a soft grunt and they were off.  No
shame or modesty.  Just naked, slapping wet, sloppy sex with all the
accompanying nasty pleas and other audio.

   Matt was, of course, emboldened.  Not just from seeing this other couple
pair off, but from the lewd display that Connie had shared with him of her
open sex and her fingers dancing over her mound.  As he pulled me to him,
he tried to act like it was all about me, but he was thinking of her.  I
could tell.

   In truth, I too was reacting to the other couple - and especially Mark's
hard cock - as I bent first to take off my last garment and then to bend
down to take Matt into my mouth.

   I made this move for a selfish reason.  I had fucked Matt before and it
was not always the best ride to be frank, but with his cock in my mouth I
could move my hand to my own pussy.  I enjoyed playing with myself while I
sucked cock.

   And so I did and I didn't care who knew.  I was open about it and free.
Matt knew about it, and now I guess Mark and Connie did too.

   They fucked.  I sucked.  Matt looked on at Connie as I serviced him and
I put my vagina and fingers to work and onto display.  It was nasty and
magical and hypnotic and no one thought twice about what came next or
tomorrow.  We said filthy things both to our mates and each other.  I think
we all knew what we were doing was special and we wanted to celebrate it
and acknowledge it even if we didn't exactly know what to think about it
all.

   So we fucked and sucked and had sex as only young people can.  Young men
can last and it took a while, but when it came he came suddenly.  He had
been in me, but I had put him back in my mouth as I had felt a need to coax
myself to another cum when I realized he was about to cum in my mouth and
down my throat.

   I was not one to swallow at that point.  It just still seemed wrong.  So
gagging and embarrassed I pulled away from him and ran out of the cabin to
spit his load into the soft white snow.  It was so cold and dark and I was
so naked but I stood for a few minutes outside to feel the soft snow tickle
my naked body as it fell.

   I opened my mouth to catch snowflakes - an attempt to wash away the
slick taste of his semen - but found I didn't really feel the need to
rinse. I instead wiped his seed from my cheeks and licked him off my
fingers not because I wanted to but because I absolutely needed to.

   I stood there in the accumulated snow - 8 inches or so - and my inner
heat kept me warm for a few minutes, but eventually it was time to go in.

   Upon opening the door I found that Connie had joined Matt in bed.  To be
honest, I had somehow expected this.  Connie and Mark weren't in love and
Matt and I weren't really either - and we both knew it.  In a way, this was
just acknowledgement of that.

   The two of them were fucking loudly, Connie on top while Matt held her
hips and directed her movement up and down.  Mark stood watching, his
beautiful, frightening cock standing straight and strong out like a master
surveying his domain.

   I didn't question.  There was no shock.  A swap is a swap and a deal is
a deal.

   I got on my knees and worshipped that cock.  I took Mark into my throat
with hunger, ignoring the discomfort.  Connie mounted Matt and rode him in
such as way that I knew she must be well lubricated and perhaps even full.
I realized then that I found Connie at least as sexy as Matt - probably
more so - and realized then that my days with Matt were probably numbered
but that this evening would bring forth new adventures.

   We watched each other and ourselves as we young teenagers engaged in the
most adult of activities, reveling in our freedom and our youth.  There was
no jealousy, just lust.  It was so very beautiful.

   Finally, Mark pulled me to my feet and led me to the bed.  I lay just
inches from Matt and Connie, so close I could feel their warmth and smell
their sex.  He took me with that hard cock, quickly moving in the same
rhythms that Connie was using as she rode Matt.  Connie kissed Matt
passionately and I kissed Mark in kind.  Connie kissed Mark as I kissed
Matt.  Connie and I even shared a kiss or two.  (Not a new thing - but the
first time we'd ever done it in front of someone else.)

   When the time came and I knew he would cum, I took Mark out of my cunt
and let him cum on my belly, chest and neck.  Connie watched and laughed
with a joy that I found so amazing.  Innocent yet knowing.  A kind of a
prayer.

   I have no idea whether Matt ever came with Connie or whether Connie came
with Mark, though I know I came twice that evening by my own hand with my
mouth on Matt and at least two times with Mark inside me.

   When Mark let out that final shower of his seed is was as if everything
else stopped and disappeared.  We got up and got dressed - I didn't even
really stop to wiping his juices off me and if Connie needed any rinsing
off I didn't see her do it.

   Before 20 minutes were up we were back in the car headed back to Charles
City.  Like Connie and I, the roads were wet, slick and overflowing. 
Travel was slow due to the snows, which had accumulated while we had
fucked, and we didn't arrive back to the city until well more than 2 hours
after leaving the fire in the cabin to burn away to embers.

   It was well after midnight when I was dropped off at home.  A time when
my parents would surely be asleep as in our little farm town they both
worked hours that began before dawn.  There they were though - both awake
and waiting.

   When they asked me what the score was I knew they wouldn't believe a
word out of my mouth just by how they had asked the question.  (It turns
out the came had been cancelled due to snow.  Something we likely would
have known had we only thought to check the radio.)

   When the beating started, it was like nothing I had every experienced. A
shock to the system and its own variety of growing up.  It changed me in
ways the evenings sex and sharing had not.

   My dad was usually cold and distant, but I could tell that my mother had
been feeding at his anger for hours.  He pursued the violence and
punishment with and anger and passion that he had at times before reserved
for his wife alone.  (I know.  We had thin walls in our house.)

   The beating and torment went on practically forever, Before it was done
I had been stripped practically naked and called every word one could think
of that means liar and whore.

   The next morning as a final insult my parents dragged me off to a free
clinic to have me checked for STD's or pregnancy.  They would not leave the
room as I was examined and both mom and dad took a very disturbing interest
in every intimate question, every poke and intimate probe.  It was
humiliating.

   Once complete, the doctor announced that he was convinced by the
seriousness and number of welts and bruises on my body that I had surely
and violently been raped.  He sought permission to call the police
immediately.  A request my parents refused for obvious reasons.

   The good doctor argued in vane, pointing out the blackness of my eyes
and the bruising on my ass, my genitals and breasts where I had most
definitely been whipped with something, but my parents would not consent.

   The doctor, in a final gambit, asked me to step out of the room so that
he might talk to my parents in confidence.  When mom and dad left his room
not long after, my doctor had correctly guessed who had really provided the
beating and bruises across my face and body.  (Again.  Thin walls.)

   He tormented my parents with the knowledge of their cruelty and
suggested that perhaps a call to the police might be in order anyway.

   On leaving the office, mom looked mad.  Dad looked contrite.  They booth
looked terrified.  Nothing was said as we exited the medical center and
made our way home, and from that day forward, both parents pretty much
ignored me, providing their punishment through a passive form of neglect.

   Back at school on the Monday morning, I met up with Connie.  She seemed
stiff and sore and wore way too much make-up on her face.  We both carried
carefully counterfeited notes from our "loving parents' that asked the
school to excuse us from suiting up for gym that week.  We sat together and
watched others exercise as we spoke of everything but that night,

   Within a week we were both back with our own boyfriends doing all the
things that we could do without touching those still sensitive places where
the belts and fists had taken their toll.  Within a few months I would live
temporarily in her basement and occasionally in her bedroom after I ran
away from parents that had decided to ignore me forever.

   But that part, dear readers, is a story for another time.