I felt my dick twitch

I've decided technology is fucked up. Like computers, for instance.

I don't like them. Did I ever tell you about the time I mixed up my folders
and started sending my stories to people who had just written to say "Wow"
and didn't really want the stories showing up on their machines at work?
Funny thing is the people who *wanted* the stories and didn't get them
were even more pissed!

Hey, and how about the time I mixed up folders with my neighborhood garden
club newsletter? I don't even want to talk about it!

Computers. Except for this free smut, who needs them? Like spreadsheets
are fun or something. Like they make you smart or something. I'm sure you
know the richest guy on the planet is a nerd who runs a Seattle software
company that's trying to take over the world. And sometimes he even smells
bad! Hey Bill! It's easy! TAKE A SHOWER! You'd think his computers
would tell him how to fix his dandruff if they're so fucking smart.

At the very least these machines should be able to tell me your age, and if
you're over 18. You're supposed to be if you're reading this stuff. Over 18?
Computers can't tell me shit about you. Hell. They don't know shit about me!
I just got my AARP card.

Computers are fucked up, you know?


The United Way - by MIKE HUNT


Some of our best friends in the neighborhood are Pete and Mary Sikes.
They live about 4 doors up in the little green house on the corner. We've
been friends for a few years, ever since we moved into the neighborhood.
Pete and Mary stopped by to introduce themselves on the second or third
day we were in the house I think. They thoughtfully brought over some pizza
and a few beers; I guess it was obvious that we weren't exactly ready to
entertain yet. Hell, we'd barely found the silverware.

Over the past couple years we've gotten to know them pretty well. We see
each other every couple of months for a movie, or to go bowling, or to
rent a video, or just for dinner. We've known they've been trying to have
kids for several years. June and I don't want any of the little buggers,
but Pete and Mary are just the opposite. They'd make great parents, you
can just tell.

It was last Friday when I stepped in it. I mean, I didn't know. I casually
asked how "the project" was going. That's how we referred to their attempt
to have kids. The four of us had talked about it for many months and
they weren't shy about telling us what was going on. They had progressed
from making love whenever they felt like it (no pregnancy) to making love
on the day when she expected to ovulate (nope) to taking her temperature
to know when the egg dropped (nada) to going to a fertility clinic (nothing).

We hadn't talked to them since their appointment last week. And that's
when, as I say, I stepped in it. We had Pete and Mary over for cards. The
four of us sat in the game room. June was across the table from me; Mary
was to my left. "So how goes the project?" I asked. Silence. Suddenly I
noticed Mary's eyes welling up, a tear pooling at the pocket at the bottom
of each eye socket. She waited for a moment to try to regain her composure,
then excused herself and walked into our kitchen.

"Oh shit," Pete said.

"Whad I say?" I asked. "Hell, I'm sorry, I..." Mary was dabbing at her
eyes in the next room. June pushed back her chair to get up and help, but
Pete motioned her to stay.

"We went to the clinic on Friday. They checked both of us out. It seems,
ah, we can't have kids. Ever."

"Oh no," June exclaimed. Her hand fluttered to her mouth. "What did they
tell you?"

"Well, she's fine. It's, ah, me. They tell me I'm shooting blanks. A natural
born, perfect vasectomy poster boy, that's me. Sperm count, minus 14 or
something."

"I don't understand," June said. "You had a vasectomy and you're trying
to have children?"

I turned to my wife, who can be a little thick at times. "No, dear, he
didn't have a vasectomy. It's just as though he had a vasectomy, but it's
natural." I didn't want to say it, but I wasn't sure she understood. "He's
sterile." I turned to Pete. "Isn't there anything they can do?"

"Oh sure. For $7000 I can have an operation which has a 10% chance of
being successful, and has a 10% chance of leaving me impotent. No thanks.
For $15,000 we can get in vitro fertilization, 5 tries. If I have $15,000
lying around somewhere, wop me in the head, OK?" Pete was bitter.

Mary returned to the table. Her eyes were reddened. Now we knew why. "Isn't
it terrible?" she said. "No children."

"You could adopt," June said, trying to be helpful.

The tears came back in Mary's eyes. This time she stayed in her seat and
dabbed at the moisture with a napkin. "We've talked about that, and we
probably will. But we really wanted to have our own. Now we never..." Her
voice trailed off.

"How can it cost that much to get some sperm from a sperm bank and, uh,
put it in, or, I mean, do whatever they do to, you know,..." I was fumbling
my words.

Pete answered me. "It's not the sperm. It's all the fucking doctors, and the
tests, and the hospital, and the lab, and the specialists. It's ridiculous.
If I had the money, you know, I'd probably do it. But I don't. So now our
option is to let her loose on the street and hope she gets lucky."

"Peter," she screamed in mock anger, "Stop that!" She slapped him on the
arm, but at least she cracked a little smile on her face. "Anyway, I couldn't
just 'do it', you know, with a stranger. I mean what if he had some terrible
hereditary disease, or his father was a serial murderer or something.
I'd have to know the guy and be comfortable with him. And know his medical
history, and all.

"I have my records right upstairs," I said gallantly. Mary blushed a deep
red and let out a little yelp. June kicked me under the table. "Hey, hey,
it was a joke. For god's sake, take it easy you all. Where's your sense
of humor?"

It was Pete who thought about it and spoke up. He said, "You know, Mike,
you may have something there." Mary's blush got even a deeper shade, if
that was possible. "No, no, listen to me. I don't mean that you, uh, you
know, I mean, you could be a sperm donor. You could be the father, sort
of. I mean, we do know your medical history and your personality ... but
we can overlook that ... and, well, it sort of makes sense on a lot of
levels."

It was my turn to be uncomfortable. June looked at me with that "What
the fuck is this?" look in her eyes.

I didn't respond. I didn't say anything. I couldn't. My wife was going
to kill me after they left, I just knew.

Mary said, "You know...." and her voice trailed off.

I tried to change the subject, but both Pete and Mary wouldn't allow it.
Grasping at straws, I thought. Desperate, I thought. Crazy, I thought.
They talked about it for the next hour, back and forth across the table.
I sat quietly, only speaking when directly spoken to. June didn't contribute
much either. But Pete and Mary were transfixed with the idea, and a short
60 minutes later were practically begging me to help them. June nodded,
giving me permission.

The plan was that I would jerk off in a cup, give the sperm to them, and
they would, uh, apply it. No doctors, no hospital, no lab tests. Just
neighbors helping neighbors. Sort of like the United Way.

A week passed, and June and I went over to their house. This was going
to be weird. We socialized, and the subject of our mission for later that
evening scarcely came up. We joked about all the things we usually joked
about, drank a bunch of wine, and had a good time. About 11:00 Pete
announced that it was about time to "get started."

Mary said her goodnights, and went into their bedroom to change. Pete
followed her, and returned a moment later in his PJs. He had a plastic
cup in his hand. "Here, fella," he said, offering it to me. "The bathroom
is just down the hall."

June just smirked at me, as if to say "See what your big mouth has gotten
you into." I knew she'd never let me live it down. I walked to the bathroom.
I unzipped my pants and let them drop. Pete had thoughtfully provided some
pornographic magazines, and I leafed through them as my tool began to
enlarge.

Dicks in pussies, dicks in mouths, dicks in assholes. Pretty girls with
cum on their face. Girls with two guys fucking them. I turned page after
page of porno pictures, getting an erection and stroking myself. But I
wasn't here for pleasure, I was here to do a job. And I had practiced for
this since I was 12! I came in the little cup, cleaned myself up, and pulled
up my pants.

I knocked on their bedroom door. Pete cracked the door open and looked
out at me. I offered him the cup. I could see Mary sitting on the bed in
a see through nightgown, but I couldn't see all that much in the dim bedroom
light. I tried, but I couldn't tell if she had her panties on because the
blankets were bunched up in front of her.

"Wow," Pete said, looking at the cup. "Good volume. Good job." He winked
at me. I didn't know if he was going to use a turkey baster or what. I
didn't want to know.

"I feel like an idiot," I said. "And you're welcome."

June chimed, "We'll see ourselves out. You guys have fun." We left.

A couple of weeks went by, and June called Mary. Nothing yet. We got together
the following weekend, and everyone decided it was too soon to tell anything.
But as more weeks passed, it became apparent that the experiment had failed.

We repeated it a month later, again on a day when Mary was scheduled to
ovulate. With the same results. Now June had relaxed with the idea,
and so had I. In fact, the idea of Pete dripping my cum into his wife's
cunt was kind of a turn-on for me, although I wouldn't say anything of
the sort to my own wife, of course. Mary and I seemed to form a closer
bond than just neighbor to neighbor, as well. I suppose it was only natural.
Here we were sharing the most intimate of experiences. Sort of. The
experiment failed again. And failed again another month after that.

Mary and Pete and June and I were at our house. The Bulls were on TV again,
and we had a big screen and they didn't. We all had a few beers as we watched
the game. The subject of the experiment came up, of course, and we talked
in some detail about it.

"Maybe we're doing something wrong," Pete said. "Maybe you pay for all
those specialists for a reason. Maybe there's some special technique, or
something..."

"Don't be silly," June said. "People have been making babies for thousands
of years. How hard can it be?" I guess she realized the insensitivity of
her remark just as the words left her mouth. "Oh. I'm sorry," she said
softly. She was talking to a couple for whom it wasn't just difficult,
it was impossible.

I tried to backpedal and lighten the conversation. "It's hard," I said,
with a leering emphasis on the word "hard." I smiled at no one in particular.

"Oh Mike, you're incorrigible," June said. "Still. Maybe there's something
else we should be doing that we're not doing."

Mary spoke softly. Her eyes were cast down, averting contact with anyone
else in the room. "There is," she said, almost in a whisper. "I've been
thinking about it." She paused. We were all silent. "Maybe we should just
try, you know, the old fashioned way. I mean, sort of, well..." The words
hung in the air.

It took June a moment to realize what Mary was saying. When she did her
eyes got wide, and blinked rapidly. Then she said, "You don't mean....
I guess you do mean.... I mean...." She was at a total loss.

It was Pete who spoke next. He also looked down as he talked. "Mary and
I talked about it. Maybe, you know, maybe it would work... I mean, we would
understand if you don't want to. Or if June would object," he added quickly.
"Totally understandable. It's just that this is so important to us."

It was so quiet in the room you could have heard a sperm swimming. June
broke the silence. "This is bizarre," she said.

Mary spoke quickly. "See, Pete? I knew it. It's too much to ask." Her
eyes welled with tears. It was pitiful. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to cry.
And I understand. Really." A tear dripped down her cheek.

June must have been deeply touched, because she said "I suppose it could
be OK. I mean, only for the experiment. You know. Not for sex." She paused.
"I would at least think about it." She thought a moment. She looked into
Mary's reddened eyes. Then she said "If it's OK with Mike."

Yahoo! Whoopee! Zowie!

I kept my composure as best I could, and although my voice cracked as
I said it, I said "I could do that." I smiled at Mary, who smiled back.
I figured we'd set up a "date" and consummate the dirty deed later in the
month. I asked, "So how do we set this up? I mean, when, and where, and...
uh, you know?" I paused. "When's the time, I mean when's she ready?" I
asked Pete. I stumbled over the words. Big surprise.

It was Mary who answered the question. "Actually, today's the day," she
said. "But I know that's rushing things, and you guys probably want to
talk it over and all. So we can wait 'til next month, if you want."

I shrugged. June said, "It's really OK with me. Sort of. Might as well
get it over with."

"You mean, tonight?" My mouth dropped open. My dick began to get erect
inside my pants.

"Yes, tonight, lover boy," Pete said. "You guys can just, uh, retire
somewhere, and June and I will wait here."

"Oh no," June said. "If this experiment is going to happen, I'm going
to be part of it. I have a stake here, like not letting my husband get
involved with another woman."

I didn't see the logic in it, since she had just given me permission to
fuck Mary. But what was I going to say? "What do you mean, hon?" I asked.

"I mean I'm going to be in the room. I want to make sure that it's just
for procreation, not for recreation."

"You're what? You're going to be in the room?" You could have knocked
me over with a feather. I lost my erection.

"That's right. Or no deal. Deal?" she said.

I looked at Mary, then at Pete. June was driving a hard bargain, so to
speak. "It's OK with me if it's OK with you guys." They had no choice.
Neither did I.

We all finished our beers and headed for the bedroom. June gave Mary a
nightgown that didn't reveal much. She decided that I would wear pajama
bottoms.

Mary and I climbed onto the bed. June took one of the two reading chairs
at the far end of the room. Pete waited outside. I sat next to Mary and
waited for my body to take charge. Nothing happened. I mean nothing. No
problem, I figured. I thought of a dirty movie I had just seen. Nothing.
I remembered the time I got jerked off by a nurse. Nothing.

After several minutes June called out "What's going on?"

"Nothing." I said. "Nothing."

Mary added, "Boy I'll say."

Thanks. As if I didn't already feel the pressure. I guess that must have
been it, that and the fact that my wife was at the foot of the bed, waiting
for this to be over. "I need a little help, here," I said. "Do you mind,
hon?" It had been long enough that she could see I wasn't lying.

"Go ahead," she said.

I took my flaccid penis out of my pants. Mary stared at it. I reached
up and cupped her tit. She had a nice set; they were still round and firm.
I felt her nipple become aroused. I wished I could say the same for myself.
I said "Maybe if you touched me..."

Mary's hand reached for my tool. She took hold of it as though it was
a month old banana. Nothing. She stroked me up and down. Nothing. I
reached for her pussy, and her legs parted. Nothing.

"What's going on?" Pete called in through the door.

"Nothing." June shouted back. "Absolutely nothing."

"Why not?" he asked.

"Do you want to tell him?" she asked me. I shook my head. "My wonderful
husband who gets horny at the sight of a bagel can't get it up."

"Jesus," I exclaimed. "Give a guy a break."

"Really?" Pete said. "I think I'm insulted."

"You're insulted?" Mary said. "How about me?"

June got up and walked over to handle the situation. Or at least try. She
came over to the side of the bed and knelt to get a better view. With one
hand she reached up and cupped my balls, keeping her hand away from Mary's,
which still held my limp dick. With the other she unbuttoned her blouse.
She knows that I love to look down women's blouses, it's one of my biggest
turn ons. One of 592 that I've cataloged so far. Nothing.

"Maybe if I helped," she said. She pushed Mary's fingers away from my
penis and bent over me. She took me in her mouth and began to suck. Nothing.
Really nothing. The stress was just too great.

"Anything?" Pete's voice came through the door.

"Nothing," Mary said.

"Shit," I said. "Would you people stop it? I feel like I'm a blue light
special at the Kinsey Institute. What pressure!"

Pete appeared in the doorway. "Can I see?" he said. I thought to myself,
"What're you, the fucking doctor? You can't even knock up your own wife."
But I stayed silent.

He came in to survey the situation. He looked down at my paltry pecker,
then at his wife. "Well, *I* can get turned on," he said. Mary leaned over
and hugged him. Since she was sitting on the bed and he was standing, her
head went into his crotch. She could feel him through his pants. "God,
you're hard, at least."

This was humiliating for me. Me! MIKE HUNT! Dirty story writer. Sex fiend.
Pervert.

"Would this help?" Pete said, lowering the zipper on his pants. "I know
you like pornography. At least I know you used it in the bathroom when
you were jerking off in my cup." He withdrew his dick. He was a good 8
inches, nearly 2 inches longer than me. About 7 inches longer than me at
the moment.

"As if I'm not feeling insecure enough, you take out your schwantz and
you're a lot bigger than me," I pouted. June, who had her eyes pointed down
as she continued her efforts with her mouth now released me and turned
her head. She gasped.

"Oh my god," she said. "Mary, you are *so* lucky!"

"Holy shit," I thought. "I'll never get it up now."

Mary's hand had reached out and she was grasping Pete's dick, softly stroking
it. He pushed his mid-section forward and she leaned toward him. He wanted
her to put him in his mouth, and she was complying. Now, do you think that
was enough for me? No. Nothing.

I watched her work on him orally for a few moments, and realized that
nothing was happening. To me, I mean. It was obvious that a lot was happening
for them. June, with her hand still on my dick, knew my predicament.
She didn't know what to do.

"Listen guys," I said. "This isn't working. I don't think I'm going to
get it up, here. No hard feelings, you know what I mean? No hard anything,
apparently."

Mary made some little sucking noises. Pete moaned. June released me and
turned toward the couple, now engaged in sex just a few feet away. She
was looking at Pete's dick with awe. "We weren't supposed to be having
sex, anyway," she said. "This was just for, you know, to make a baby."

But she couldn't take her eyes off his dick. "I am feeling a little flushed,
though," she said to no one in particular. The way she was twisted, her
unbuttoned blouse was no longer open to me. But it was to Pete, who I
realized
was staring down at her chest. I felt my dick twitch. When she suddenly
figured out that Pete was looking down her blouse she involuntarily jerked
back and straightened her shoulders.

"No hon, lean forward," I said. She looked at me. Pete pulled his rod
out of his wife's mouth and we could all see it's angry red head bobbing
in the open air. June was mesmerized. She bent forward, and her blouse
opened. Pete stared into the gap in the material. I felt my dick twitch.
"Uh, good," I said.

Mary wanted to put her mouth back on his member, but he pushed her away.
She grasped his manhood and began pumping it with her fist. He pointed
at June's chest and wiggled his finger. Her hands involuntarily went up
to the front, and she began to undo another button. My dick twitched again.

"Hey guys, I'm getting something," I said. Everyone's eyes turned to look
at my dick. It didn't look much different than it had minutes earlier,
but I knew something was happening. "This is being a turn on, having Pete
look down June's blouse."

Now she unbuttoned the final two buttons on her shirt. The front hung
open and the sides of her breasts were clearly visible. She wasn't wearing
a bra; she rarely did. But in spite of the size of her tits, there wasn't
a sag or stretch mark anywhere. I knew. I had plundered that real estate
hundreds of times over the years. June had larger breasts than Mary, and
Pete was enjoying the view. I felt some movement in my penis.

June never looked at me but continued staring at Pete's pole. "Glad to
help, hon," she said. Her hand reached out for him, and she cupped his
testicles in her upturned palm. I felt a major twitch. He closed his eyes.
Mary looked over at me and shrugged. I bent my finger and told her to come
to me. She moved away from her husband and crawled along the bed.

She reached me by crawling on all fours, and I reached into her top and
grabbed one of her tits. I looked down the top and saw the other one swinging
free, its red tip pointing down. I looked up and saw that June's free hand
was no longer free. She had grabbed Pete's hard-on and was stroking it.
She turned slowly and looked at me. I looked into her eyes and gave
permission. She turned back to him and lowered her mouth.

Pete reached for her shirt and pulled the sides apart, releasing June's
pendulous breasts from the loose confines. She momentarily released his
dick so that she could take the shirt off. My cock slowly continued to
grow. Finally Mary had decided to help and reached for me. As she made
contact with my member, it jumped up slightly. I was now perhaps half-erect.
Not exactly home-free, but getting there.

Mary brought her mouth down to my mid-section, and began to lick my balls
while she stroked me. The soft piston action of her hand, coupled with
the wetness of her mouth soon brought more hardness to that instrument
that had malfunctioned just minutes earlier. June was now eagerly sucking
on Pete's dick as well. I could tell she liked it because of it's larger
size. I watched as her mouth sank down on him, and I knew his mushroom
head was pushing against the back of her throat. June does that for me
all the time, and even occasionally deep throats me, but I only reach about
an inch into her throat. Pete was a good two inches longer than I was.
Would she even try?

I motioned Mary to turn around. She got up on her knees and faced away
from me. I didn't plan it, but we were both pointed directly at Pete and
June. I found the crotch in Mary's panties, pulled it to the side, and
rubbed my dick against her pussy lips. I found the opening. I pushed. As
I did, I watched my wife also push, trying to get Pete's entire penis into
her mouth. Judging from his length, he was already part way down her throat,
and I knew there was more to follow.

"Oh god, look at that," Mary said. She too was entranced by the activity
on the other side of the room.

I began bouncing against Mary's ass, finally fucking her with abandon.
My dick was now fully erect, and her love juices covered it from top to
bottom as I slid in and out of her hungry box. Pete stopped his moaning
long enough to say "You really should be lying on your back, hon. That
way the sperm will have a better chance to travel..."

Mary cut him off with a grunt. I said, "Let's not push it, OK Pete? I'm
just lucky to be here."

"You sure are," Mary giggled. "But I feel lucky, too."

June backed off of Pete's throbbing dick. She turned to me and said "He's
right, you know. She should be on her back."

Christ. Technical details in the middle of a fuck session. Jeez!

"Fine," I said with a trace of frustration in my voice. "Mary, if you
wouldn't mind?"

"Oh I don't mind at all," she said. As she rolled onto her back, she whipped
off the rest of her clothing, then lifted her legs straight up in the air
and split them, presenting her cunt as the target. I leaned forward and
presented my arrow. Talk about a bulls-eye! I sank into her, her cunt folds
again wrapping themselves tightly around my cock. Her warmth enveloped
me, and I leaned on my elbows above her looking down into her face.

I felt so tender toward her. I leaned down and gave her a little kiss
on the lips, which turned into more, then into a passionate embrace.

"Hey," June exclaimed. "What are you doing? This is supposed to be for
sex. Don't do that." Like it was OK to have my dick in my friend's wife's
cunt, but I wasn't allowed to kiss her. Still, there is an intimacy to
a kiss that just fucking doesn't have, as any hooker will tell you. "This
is unfair, anyway. You're getting fucked. She's getting fucked. Pete is
getting a blow job. I'm the only one not getting any."

"Go ahead hon," I said. I never took my eyes off Mary's face. "It's fine
with me." Mary gazed into my eyes as the tempo of our rhythmic coupling
increased. June was on her feet in a millisecond, shedding her clothes.
She pushed Pete down onto the edge of the bed, and as he sat there she
sat in his lap. I turned my head to watch. I could tell by her contortions
that she was lowering herself onto his erection. I saw the passion in her
face that told me when she had hit bottom.

"Don't get too used to a dick that size," I said. "I wouldn't want you
to be disappointed when you get home."

"I don't think she'll be disappointed," Mary said, bouncing against me.
"You're pretty good at this. I like having your dick in my pussy."

"I'll bet he doesn't mind it either," Pete said. He leaned back and lay
down on the mattress, and his head came to rest just inches from my leg.
June was bouncing up and down on his lap, and I could see that his hands
were busy grasping at her tits as they bounced in front of him. June had
her arms outstretched, her palms open against his chest to use for
leverage for her bouncing. Up and down. Up and down. With Pete lying on
his back, I could see the juncture of their sexes, and watched his fuck
tool slide in and out of my wife's cunt.

"This is great," June said. "I have a nice big dick inside me, I have
my husband's permission, and I don't have to worry about becoming pregnant.
This is just great."

"Yeah," I said. "And my job tonight is to deliver a load of sperm into
this lovely lady's pussy." I looked back into Mary's eyes; they fluttered
with my compliment. Her hips bucked. "This is not a bad job at all." My
hips returned the favor.

My head slid down and I grasped her breast. Even though she was smaller
than June, her tits weren't quite as firm, and I had to hold my hand around
the outside to get it to stick up in the air. I licked the nipple, bending
my head down as far as I could in the process. I heard Pete start to moan.

"Oh I'm going to cum," he said. "I'm there already."

"Go ahead," June told him. "I'm close myself. And one thing that gets
me off is feeling a nice hard dick in my pussy when it erupts. It's the
ultimate turn on. Come on, big boy." She was bouncing up and down
with abandon; his hands continued to squeeze her tits, twisting and
squeezing them like they were some sort of nerf toy.

"Ahhhh," he said, and I knew he was peaking. "Ahhhh," he said as the second
wave passed him. "Ahhhh," he said more slowly this time.

"Ooooo," June said. I knew that sound. That was her cum sound. Her hips
were bucking violently against his, she slammed herself down on his pulsing
dick, and moaned again. "Oooooo," she said. I knew there would be another
four or five of those, but then I felt a rush of my own, taking over my
body and my mind.

I looked down at Mary. I spoke softly and said "Get ready, the delivery
man is here." She looked up at me and pulled me close. I felt her legs
spread even wider as she tried to sink me as deeply as she could. I didn't
know if it was passion or just her attempt to get my sperm closer to her
egg, but she bent her legs and surrounded me, pulling me as far in as I've
ever been inside a woman. I felt the buzz of my orgasm begin in my loins.

I thrust forward, shooting my first load into her hot cunt. I pulled back
a little, and then pushed forward again, delivering my second spurt into
her. As I pulled back again I felt the flush of heat deep in her cunt that
told me she was about to join me on the roller coaster, and I bucked forward
mightily, as my third wave crashed over my head. She cried out "Yes! Yes!
Yes!" Her own orgasm overtook her and her cunt gripped my dick with a series
of contractions that squeezed out the last precious drops of my spunk.
I collapsed on her even as her cunt continued to grip me, our sweaty bodies
now slipping and sliding over one another.

Finally, we were done. I gave her a peck on the lips, and started to get up.
She pulled me down, and we stayed that way for several minutes. June did
the same with Pete. Finally the four of us were sitting, standing, walking
around completely nude and exhausted. Then somehow our modesty got the
best of us. Mary dressed quickly. Pete followed. June climbed into the
bed and under the sheet. I just walked around in a daze, my spent dick
hanging low between my legs. I walked them to the door; Mary just said
"Thanks." June glanced back at my exhausted penis as I walked back into
the bedroom.

I said a silent prayer of gratitude. What a way to end the evening.

But the story doesn't end there. About two weeks later Mary called to give
us the news. She had missed her period. She had a doctor's appointment
the next day. As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months,
the news came in rushes. She was pregnant. It would be a boy. The baby
was healthy. She was due in October.

Finally the big day came, and she had a healthy baby boy after a fairly
routine delivery. She was in labor just 7 hours, pretty good for a
first-timer I've learned. Pete told me they were naming him Carney.
It's Irish for "victorious." But his nickname was going to be "Hunter",
in honor of *me*. Pete wanted to know if I would be the child's godfather.
Of course I said yes.

A few weeks after Mary returned from the hospital she felt good enough
to socialize and let us coo over the baby. We sat around, reminiscing about
the "experiment" as we all called it. I spoke up.

"Anytime you want little Carney to have a baby brother or sister, you
just call." Neighbors helping neighbors, you know? Like the United Way.
"I'll be glad to help out again."

"So will I," said June.


* * * *


So help me it's all true. Except the part about Carney. His name's actually
Dave. He's now 26 and drives a truck. I hope he doesn't read this, because
then he'll know I fucked his mother and he'll probably get a gun and
kill me. He's a weird dude. It's probably hereditary.

Speaking of weird dudes, you are too if you're not getting these swell
stories by e-mail, all in one piece, and early delivery to boot! Almost
everybody else is. Except Dave of course. I took him off the list last week.

To get 'em by e-mail, send me a note. Make sure you say something like
"I'm over 18" or another witty saying. To protect your identity from other
recipients the stories are sent out as "blind" carbons. There's actually no
carbon used, of course. I think it's all done with electricity. If you print
the story on your laser printer there IS carbon in the toner, which if you
put in your eyes can make you "blind". Be careful. Also, if you get it on
your
hand and play with yourself it can turn your dick black. But this will NOT
fool most women into thinking you have a big black dick, I've learned.

Casual conversation and other drek at MrM1KE@aol.com. Please note that
the 2nd character in M1KE is a "one" (1) not an "eye" (I). Thanks. Yes, the
mailing address has changed. But I still can't spell M1KE very well.

As a friendly and neighborly service, I've made my older stories available at
my website at <http://members.aol.com/mrm1ke/>. Some of my older stories are
about me when I was younger. I have no older stories about me when I was
older,
because I'm not older yet, but by next week I will be older, and then some of
my older stories will be even older. However I'll still be younger in my
older stories.

I've also added "M1KE's Graffiti" to the website. If you've ever wanted to
peek over someone's shoulder and read their mail, this is the place. In fact
if you've ever sent me an e-mail, it might be posted here. Maybe I posted
your return address. Maybe I even included a credit report and the
information I got from the FBI about you. You never know.

I even added a link to BronwenSM's gorgeous new homepage. God it's so
beautiful I tried to hump it. Now I have to figure out how to get
all that fucking carbon off my monitor.

Please don't try to sell this story. You'll embarrass me when nobody wants
to buy it, and you'll experience a painful disfiguring death when I get Dave
to kill you by running over your head with his truck and squashing you
like a cantaloupe. You can give the story away if you want. Good luck. Some
people won't even take free shit.

This story is Copyright 1997 by M1KE HUNT. Like somebody would steal it
or something. Although I do think it has potential as an NBC mini-series,
don't you? Maybe in the next episode we could all watch little Carney smash
his tricycle into a fire hydrant and be rushed to the hospital and get
47 stitches. Maybe he could even get tuberculosis or some other horrible
disease, or maybe a wacky doctor could cut off his foot by mistake. Oh,
the possibilities are endless!

Does anybody know anybody at NBC? I hear it works better if you have an
inside connection. I think that's how Seinfeld got started. Supposedly
he was fucking the top guy's wife or something and got caught and they
made him do a TV show to make up for it. At least that's how I heard it.

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