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sample nasty bestiality "nastybestiality" story:
Another was that I became a cheesecake photo in the city newspaper.
That was the summer that I realized how I had grown. Make that
Grown, with a capital G. I was surprised -- I, who had always tracked
and recorded my measurements to the eighth of an inch -- to find that I
needed a 34 d-cup bra, that my hips were finally flaring in balance
(relatively) to 27 inches and my waist had ballooned to a whopping 20
inches. Tubb-o, I thought! But I was also all the way up to four-foot-
ten-inches, and looked more like a petite young woman than a little kid
with outrageous tits. Yes, that was a summer of major changes.
And that was the summer I was scouted by a men's magazine.
-- End of 12 --
It was taking her to "Swan Lake" that did it. Sometime during the ballet,
something happened very deep inside Mary Catherine. I didn't know until I was
driving her home. I rested a hand on her thigh, a thing she tolerated, sometimes
seemed to enjoy, but had never encouraged. Tonight her hand covered mine, and
she slid the other over my thigh to pluck at the inseam of my slacks.
"That was a neat wizard, wasn't it?"
"Your leg is so hard."
"Will you stay with me tonight?"
"I don't have any birth control."
At the drive in window of an all-night drugstore I had forty cents less than
the price of a package of condoms. The clerk looked at us, Mary Catherine bent
forward, her back bowed, her belly tense, still picking at my pants, and gave us
the rubbers.
All the way home she kept it up, picking up the inseam, stretching the fabric
and letting it snap onto my inner thigh. Sometimes a girl's touch is like an
electric shock, sometimes just that sharp spark there in the belly below the
navel. Mary Catherine's pluck sent a dull pulse right to my root, saying "Wake
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