****** Another Lost Angel by darkness ******
===============================================================================

Another Lost Angel (sequel to Angels in Dark Places)


***This story is a marriage of multiple reader requests to feature "Steph" in
another story and my own designs for the characters. "Angels in Dark Places"
covered 17 years of the characters' lives. This story deals mainly with the
years 1977-78 as Steph comes to grips with life without Danny.***

--darkness--

Steph watched the tail lights of the Gran Torino disappear down the road and
was stunned when they did not stop and turn back. She knew that her telling
Danny that she didn't love him and couldn't marry him would hurt him, but she
did not expect this!

She carefully stood herself up and straightened her little cotton dress. She
had cut her hand slightly on the pieces of broken car window lying on the
ground. She didn't even realize it until after she had already used that hand
to massage her bruised bottom. The dress was ruined from the grass stain
anyway. She didn't panic; she just wrapped her tiny hand in the fold of her
dress and held it tight to stop the little cut.

She stood silently in the woods and weighed the events that had led up to the
gentlest boy she had ever known breaking the windows out of his car and then
grabbing Steph by her feathered red hair and flinging her out of the car and
onto the ground. She knew that her high school graduation night never should
have ended like this, but she couldn't quite grasp how it had gone so awfully
wrong. She retraced every step, even back to the days before she had started
dating Danny.

***** ***** *****

Steph had always been a "good girl." Not just in the sense of being virginal or
a top student, but she was also kind, friendly and easy-going. By the time she
was fifteen, her petite figure and beautiful hair had made her very popular,
and she was bright enough to understand why. She dressed quite conservatively,
however, and was careful about accepting dates. Her big sister, Jamie, had told
her it was cruel to lead on the boys. She took it to heart and tried not to
give false impressions to anyone. She wasn't ready for sex, yet. So went her
sophomore and junior year of high school, desired, but not a tease.

In May of her junior year, she accepted an invitation to the Prom from Danny.
He was one of those kids who was on the fringe of popularity. He was well-
liked, but so quiet that he often was forgotten at social outings. He spent
most of the school day reading or drawing, and most of the time after school
hanging out with Mike Waters or Rick and Scott Shultz. They were the
"gearheads." Danny was generally acknowledged as the best mechanic in school.
Steph was inclined to like his shoulder length brown hair and his powerful
chest and forearms, but what really attracted her to him was sitting behind him
in study hall and sneaking a peek at his sketchbook.

He drew people who had both the semblance of real life and also a certain aura
of ethereal contentment. There was an undoubted whiff of eroticism in their
stances and eyes as well. Something about these people made you want to be
drawn into their world. One day, Steph found that she was indeed "drawn" into
the world of Danny's sketchbook.

"I noticed that you seem to like the pictures in my book," he said softly, but
not sheepishly.

"Oh yes, Danny. I really do. They seem so alive." Steph smiled at him, noticing
that he actually had worn a dressy button-up shirt today, instead of his usual
Led Zeppelin or Pink Floyd t-shirt. As was the style, he wore it with four
buttons loose, and she could see his smooth chest in the opening.

Danny smiled at her, and Steph felt a twinge of the same eroticism she felt
when she looked at his sketches. He flipped through the book and then stopped
near the back. He laid it on the desk in front of her. Drawn in black ball-
point was a picture of Steph. As Steph looked at it, she could feel a tingling
in her groin and breasts. She was certain that she had begun to perspire. While
she had had many fantasies and even masturbated, she had had very few moments
of full-blown sexual arousal brought on by another person or object. Danny's
vision of her sent Steph's whole body into flip-flops.

She was drawn simply standing in front of her locker. She was turned, three
quarters toward the front, and was extending one arm to place a book into the
top of her locker. In the amazing details Danny had crafted, she could tell
that the book was BRAVE NEW WORLD, her favorite. She was wearing a Fleetwood
Mac t-shirt that she favored, but it was drawn tighter than it actually fit,
and it managed to define the outline of her small breasts without having to
exaggerate their size. Danny had similarly captured the outline of her lower
anatomy through a tight-fitting pair of jeans.

It was exciting enough to see Danny's perception of her body, but it was the
details in her eyes that drove her wild. In each eye, the pupil was actually
drawn as tiny tongues of flame. She knew in that moment that Danny had seen in
her something that she herself had not: the emergence of her sexual desires.
Steph felt an unexpected urge to make love to Danny right there in the study
hall full of people. Instead, she simply threw her arms around him and held him
tight as she let a few teardrops roll onto his strong shoulder. "Thank you,"
she whispered. "It's the most beautiful thing I have ever seen."

Danny's strong arms came up and wrapped around her tiny body completely.
"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, Steph," he said, and reached
up behind her to stroke her hair. "Would you go to the Prom with me?"

"Anywhere," she said. "Anytime."

Danny didn't seem to know what to say to that, but he just held onto her.
Giggles began to filter in from around the study hall. Then some idiot provided
the almost obligatory, "Hey, Danny, get a room!" and the moment ended.

Five weeks later, in the basement of his parents little brick house on Maple
Street, the pair lost their virginity together. Even as she stood now in a
little clearing in the middle of nowhere, her body flushed with warmth as she
recalled that night and the exact moment when she realized that she was going
to be hooked on sex for life. Her passionate screams had been so loud and her
language so explicit that they soon realized that they had been performing for
all the kids in the neighborhood. It had been a moment that defined the next
year of Steph's life.

Faced with the inevitability of being labeled as "the biggest slut in school,"
she chose to accept it. After just a few minutes of sex, Steph had come to know
that she was going to be as sexually active as she could get away with anyway.
So, she gave into it and resigned herself to earning her newfound reputation.

She wasn't really a slut, though. She had an unbelievable amount of wild sex,
but it was always with Danny. She had propositions thrown at her everywhere she
went in her tiny little town, but she didn't consider them. Danny was giving
her everything she needed, and he was such a kind soul.

*** *** ***

Steph sat down on the cold ground and continued to retrace the year that had
brought her to this point. Her hand was feeling better by now, and she wrapped
her arms around her knees and leaned her head on her forearms. She drifted back
to the night that was her favorite of all their lovemaking sessions...

*** *** ***

It was New Year's Eve 1977, and Steph had promised to start Danny's 1978 off
"with a bang." His parents were gone for the evening, and they had the house to
themselves. It started with the usual things, listening to Styx's EQUINOX on
the portable eight track Danny had gotten for Christmas, smoking a joint and
then necking on the couch. As soon as Danny began to slide his hand over her
thin sweater and massage her breasts, Steph ordered him to stop.

"It's New Year's Eve, lover, and you are not going to fuck me on a couch again-
-tonight," she added the last word with a delicious smile. Steph had really
learned how to make Danny get wild, and she desired him to be as far out on the
edge as he could be. She needed mad passionate lovemaking, and that --she now
knew-- was as much a product of mental stimulation as physical touch.

"You are going to pick up my little body and carry me down the hall and throw
me down on your parents' bed. You are going to tell me to strip off my clothes
and do any number of erotic and perverse things to please you. If I don't obey,
you will use your far superior physical strength to force me to yield to your
devilish desires. I cannot withstand you. You are like a god, and I a spirited,
yet ultimately helpless, maiden. You are--"

"Shut up--" he said and snatched her up into the air. He tossed her head first
over his shoulder, and placed one arm across the backs of her knees while
reaching up and firmly grabbing handfuls of her buttocks with the other. Steph
began to squirm and lose herself in the arousal and the fantasy, but she did
take a moment to admire how deftly he handled her, and how he always managed to
be rough without inflicting pain. He was the answer to all of her sexual
desires.

Danny carried her down the hall and tossed her onto the bed. He crawled on top
of her more gently, fearing that if he leapt onto the bed, they would break yet
another set of bed boards. He began to grind himself into her groin, and she
could tell even through two pairs of jeans, that he had a particularly fervent
hard-on. She tried to crawl out from under him, but he kept her pinned beneath
his hips. He ground away for a few minutes, humping until he neared orgasm, and
then backing off.

Suddenly, he straddled her and raised himself up on his knees. He tore his belt
off and pulled down his jeans and underwear. Steph saw his penis fall out and
hang over her body.

"No, no, please!" she whispered, believing almost completely in the fantasy.
"No not that!"

"On all fours facing me, now," he made his voice sound cold; his order,
unquestionable.

Steph crawled out quickly from beneath him and was soon on all fours, facing
him. She dropped her head to indicate fear and loathing of what was to come
next. She was expecting another order, but he instead grabbed her under the
arms and slid her forward. With her head down, his penis was now right above
the back of her neck. She shuddered as he begin to trace his glans on the
exposed flesh left where her hair had fallen down off of her neck and
shoulders. She felt his hands grab firmly onto each butt cheek and knead them
with just the right amount of force to make her vaginal juices really respond.

"You want me."

"No. You may be able to force me, mister, but you can never make me want you."

"You already want me, you nasty little slut. You just can't admit it."

He continued to circle his hips around her head, and his penis ran through her
red hair and around under her face and chin. He found a position where he could
thrust it softly along the side of her cheek. He pulled himself slowly back and
forth, occasionally brushing the edge of her lips. Steph struggled to keep her
head down, to turn away from this intrusive sexual monster, but it was in vain.
She knew in her heart and body that she wanted to take it into her mouth as
deeply as she could. She knew she wanted to kiss it, suck it and lick it. All
the while, she would reach for his powerful body and stroke it with her tiny
hands.

The inevitable won out. As he thrust himself slowly forward, she found herself
compelled to turn and run her tongue down the side of his penis shaft. As he
drew back, she slid her tongue around and licked the bottom of his penis. He
stopped thrusting, and she took the glans into her mouth.

Steph loved this part as much as any. In this position which somehow implied
servitude, she was in as complete control of her man as could be. She began to
back away from him, and he moved continually forward to stay with her. She slid
down off the bed and sat on the floor. He sat on the edge of the bed and
straddled her.

"Suck it, little girl!" he commanded.

She opened her mouth as wide as she could and took in as much of him as she
could. She was beginning to be able to deep throat him slightly, and she knew
not to panic when the gag reflex started. Rather, she got a rush of excitement
as it triggered a wave of quivering in his legs and body. From this position,
she could tilt her head well back, and she took him in a little deeper than
before. She quickly slid back off and began kissing his glans and cupping his
balls.

"Tell me you don't want it, you little tramp."

"Please, no more. I don't want that thing to shoot all over me!"

"You can't fool me, girl. That's exactly what you want. Finish the job!" He
reached down and began to massage her breasts through her light sweater with
one hand while he held her hair back with other.

Steph was sensitive on every part of her body, and the breast massage was
getting her very wet. She had come once before from nothing more than his hands
on her breasts. She began a pattern of sliding her whole mouth three times up
and down the shaft, followed by a good hard suck on his glans. He would shake
and stomp his left leg every time she stopped on the glans. After about four
times, he stood up over her and straightened up so far that he actually bent
over backwards. Steph felt the surge go through his body and opened her mouth
to receive the first jet of his semen. She felt it hit her tongue and held it
in her mouth. She directed the rest onto her sweater and into her hair. She
knew he loved to see it on her.

As had become their custom, she swallowed all but a little of the cum she had
in her mouth. That last she shared with him in a slightly rough open-mouthed
kiss. She had done it spontaneously after one of her first blowjobs, and they
discovered that the implied total acceptance of one another's sexual desires
was highly erotic. Steph was thrilled by the fact that he had so few hang-ups
about things like that.

He had knelt in front of her to lean over her and deliver the kiss. From there,
he went to one knee and scooped her off of the floor and back onto the bed.
Steph really wanted him inside her now, but she knew even a seventeen-year-old
needed a moment to recover. She went back to their game, and tried to crawl off
of the bed on the side opposite where he stood over her. His strong hand
grasped her around the ankle of her jeans and pulled her back to him. She
flipped over onto her back as she slid. She swung a wide roundhouse kick at his
head. He easily blocked it and lowered himself between the legs he now held
spread wide.

"Please, mister. I gave you what you wanted--"

"I didn't give you what you wanted."

"Please don't violate me. I did what you asked."

"I won't violate you, woman. You're going to beg me for it before I give it to
you."

"Never!"

Wordlessly, he lowered his face into her crotch. Steph fought with every ounce
of her will to keep from reaching for him. She put her hands on his strong
shoulders and pushed away, but he didn't move. His strength drove her closer to
the point of no return. He was kissing her jeans, and inhaling deeply of her
scent. She was still fully clothed, but Steph was crumbling to his will. He
slid up alongside her and began kissing her neck and ears. He traced the
outline of her breasts through her light sweater and then slid a hand slowly
down to her crotch.

Steph expected him to unfasten her jeans, but he stayed on top of the cloth.
True to his word, he was going to make her beg without actually violating her
by removing her clothes. His tongue was darting in and out of her ear, and his
hand had wrapped around the curve of her pubis so that the heel was massaging
her vaginal lips and the tips of his fingers pressed against the fabric
covering her anus. It was arousing, but not satisfying for her, and she began
to buck and reach for relief that could not come until she pleaded for it.

Then, she began to feel his hips thrusting, and sensed the presence of his
penis against the back of her thigh. He was erect again. The thing she craved
was there, all she had to do was ask! She held firm for the time being.

"I want you," he whispered in her ear, "and you know what it will feel like
until you have me inside of you. Like growing ever hungrier without any food to
satisfy you. Look at your hips, they are reaching for me. Ask and I'll satisfy
you. You know I can."

She was rubbing herself against his arm now, and growing more aroused and less
satisfied. The sound of his voice purring in her ear drove her over the edge.
She let loose her words and gave free rein to the vocal torrent they knew would
follow.

"Please fuck me, Danny! Fuck me hard! UNNNHH! NOW, DANNY, NOW!"

He snatched her jeans off of her by returning to between her legs and giving a
straight pull as soon as she unfastened them. She sat up and began pulling on
his penis. She was near frantic, now. He had pushed all the right buttons. He
pulled her sweater over her head and there was a shower of blue static sparks
in the darkened room. She tried to pull him into her, guiding his penis.

He reached down and grabbed her hips and rotated her over onto her stomach. She
raised herself to all fours. He knelt behind her on the bed and pushed her head
down. As her hips rotated up, he slid himself into her tight pussy from behind.

Steph felt it going inside her and gripped the sheets with her hands. He went
all the way in on the first thrust. Steph could feel how tightly she was
wrapped around him, but she was very wet, and felt his hips slide up to her
ass. He began to fuck her with slow, powerful strokes that seemed to reach
forever up inside of her. In the six months they had been active, he had
learned to try many different rhythms.

"Oh god! Oh god!" she gasped. Then, as he began to change to a faster rythym,
she began to scream, "YES! YES! HAMMER ME! I want it! I want it all!" Then he
threw in a long deep thrust and she began to pound on the bed, "IT'S-S-S MAKING
ME CRAZ-Z-Z-Z-Z-Y!"

Steph was slamming her hips back into him, almost in an attacking manner. He
never backed off, though. He was young and strong, and he'd cum once already.
He began to really hammer at her now, only once slipping out, and she thrust
herself back onto him before he went back forward.

Steph felt a flash of lightning in her pussy and it took a minute to realize
that Danny had reached a hand around to find her clitoris. "AAAAAAAAAAH!
AAAAAAAAAHH!" she screamed in a slightly higher voice. Then in a very high
squeak, "E-e-e-e-e-e-YAH!" Her best orgasm to date shot through her tiny body
and Steph saw nothing but white in front of her eyes. She knew that her body
was shaking in an almost seizure-like way. She had a wonderful, soothing warm
feeling inside as her writhing elicited a second orgasm from her boy.

Then, she slipped into a fog, conscious only that Danny had collapsed on top of
her and kept whispering, "I love you...I love you...I love you..."

***** ***** *****

Steph snapped out of her memory to catch her hand frigging herself off through
her dress, just as Danny had done through her jeans. She was mumbling the last
few words of her memory. Words she had been unable to ever vocalize to another
human being, "I love you...I love... I--love...." Steph knew that the root of
Danny's irrational behavior was his romantic love for her. She wished she
understood it.

Of course, Steph loved Danny in the way that you love any person who is gentle
and kind and loyal. She also desired him tremendously. She just didn't have the
same rush of wild emotion that it seemed every other person in town felt for
someone. She had dwelt on this before. Was this inability some kind of check
and balance to compensate for her near-maddening sexual desires? Would a
romantic heart have been too much on top of that? Was it some kind of
punishment from God for her frenzied lust?

She looked out over the water and thought of something she had read about St.
Augustine back in the days when she actually used to go to Catechism. "If
Augustine was thirsty, he would drink a lake." That was her, too. Only she
didn't have a thirst to be in love, just a thirst to make love.

She realized that she couldn't sit there on the cold ground all night, and she
slowly rose to her feet and began to look around. She knew where she was, well
enough, but she also knew that it would take her a few hours to walk back to
town.

She stood for a minute, staring out across the marshland in front of her. The
tamarack trees, framed by the reflection of the moon on the lake beyond, took
on ghostly shapes. It was beautiful, but a little bit frightening. The sky
overhead was filled with a million stars, and the night was growing chilly. It
fit her thoughts about tonight well. Her relationship with Danny had always
been beautiful, and tonight it had become a little frightening. Steph saw no
use in standing in frozen fear, and even less in running about in desperation.
Allowing a few tears to slide down her cheeks, she turned to leave the clearing
and headed back up to the road.

Pine trees filtered out most of the light from the moon and stars, and eerie
sounds arose from the denizens of the marsh off to her left. Steph was a small
town girl, though, and a few nighttime creatures would not phase her. She
stayed in the middle of the road, feeling vaguely like it was an aisle; and the
pine boughs overhead, the vaulted ceiling of a cathedral. It brought a wry
smile from a dark part of her mind. There seemed no way that she would ever
make that walk down the aisle.

After about half an hour, she saw the glow of headlights rising above the
treetops. Soon, the lights themselves were discernible. Steph did not panic.
She was tiny and alone in the middle of nowhere, but she knew everyone in this
little piece of nowhere. Besides, panic was against her nature.

Soon enough, the brake lights of the car came on, and it slowed to a crawl as
it approached her. In a moment, a black GTO stopped about twenty feet in front
of her. A tall figure rose out of the passenger's side. From behind the
headlights, a female voice called out, "Steph are you okay? Oh my god, Mike!
She's covered in blood!"

Steph had forgotten about her cut. Her dress and arm were fairly bloody. Before
she could explain that it wasn't serious, the tall woman swept out toward her.
As she passed the headlights, Steph saw the blonde hair and the unglamorous,
but pretty face of Lucy. Steph had been pretty sure that's who it was anyway,
there weren't very many six-foot women around town. In an instant, Steph was
wrapped up in the strong but gentle arms of the much bigger girl. Steph tried
to speak, but found herself pressed against an ample bosom. She was then gently
lowered to the ground while Lucy began checking for her injury.

Steph began to explain everything to Lucy. She trusted Lucy. When Steph had
undergone a drastic change in social status and reputation, Lucy's attitude
toward her had never changed. Had Lucy not been a year older and already out of
school, Steph would have welcomed her as a very close friend during that trying
senior year.

Lucy calmed down quickly, but her strong maternal instinct wouldn't let her
stop worrying completely. Meanwhile, Mike emerged from the car with a .38
caliber revolver. Mike was Danny's best friend, and had stayed close even
though he had already been away at college for a year.

"Who did this to you, Steph? Who the fuck did this?" he shouted. He had always
had no stomach for bullies or anyone who abused women.

"Michael James Waters! Put that silly thing away before you blow your damned
toes off!" Lucy said sternly, but not harpingly. He demanded an explanation,
but Lucy said that neither of them would talk to him until he put the gun away.
As he finally walked back to the car to return the .38 to its home under the
driver's seat, Lucy whispered to Steph, "He thinks he's going to be a cop when
he grows up." They giggled.

It took Steph and Lucy about twenty minutes to get Mike calmed down. He finally
begrudgingly accepted that Danny's uncharacteristic behavior was due to an
extreme broken heart. (Steph was to learn years later that the events of that
night eventually led to a fistfight between Mike and Danny that left their
friendship in tatters for the next six years.)

Finally, Lucy loaded herself and Steph into the backseat of the GTO, and Mike
drove them back to town.

"Sorry if I ruined your evening," Steph whispered as Lucy let her curl up into
her lap.

"That's okay, sweetheart, Mike and I have plenty of evenings. Michael," she
called up to the still fuming, silent young man in the driver's seat, "I owe
you one night of wild passion in the woods."

Mike smirked a little, despite his mood, and nodded. He turned on the radio. It
was one of his favorites, and seemed to fit the moment. He turned slightly and
in his strong tenor voice sang the title words of the Nazareth tune to Steph,
"Love Hurts...."

"I wouldn't know Mike," she whispered. "I wouldn't know." She buried her face
against Lucy's lap and finally let herself really cry.

In the week that followed, a slow transformation came over Steph. She wanted to
take some time away from people and think. As she spent time in contemplation,
she grew more and more restless, and she grew less and less understanding of
Danny's behavior. His notions about being "in love" shouldn't have caused the
relationship she did have with him come to such an awful end. How could he not
come to her? How could he not want to be with her in the intensely passionate
way they had been so many times before? Did it all mean so little to him?

Saturday night at nine o'clock, Steph couldn't take it anymore. It was still
almost eighty degrees and humid outside. She squeezed into a pair of tight
denim cut-offs and a clinging white t-shirt.

She walked out into the living room and told her parents that she was "going
crazy from the heat" and had to get out. She didn't even know why she bothered.
Her parents never had much of anything to say about what she did anyway. Her
mother looked at her for a moment and said, "Okay." Her dad was leaning toward
the television, waiting for something. "He's gonna say it now!" he declared and
then matched the nasal voice on the television, "Da plane! Da Plane!" He
pounded his hand on the arm of his chair and laughed out loud.

Steph stepped out of the door of their big old house on Washington Street, and
stepped into what she would later call her "lost summer." She headed down the
hill on Washington toward where it met the highway in a cluster of businesses
and bars--mostly bars--that comprised the "main drag" in her town of five
hundred.

She was headed for the Bear Cave. Every few years, somebody bought one of the
bars downtown and tried to make it into the new hangout for the young people.
It never lasted for long. This year, the place was the Bear Cave.

Steph walked down past the bowling alley and past five or six bars where only a
few old men ever went on a Saturday night. If it wasn't for the ball teams they
sponsored, they would never have any other business at all. She stopped to tap
on the window of one, and waved to her Uncle Bobby who sat at his usual table
near the window. He waved back with his left hand, his right hand containing
the cards from his perpetual game of cribbage.

She paused to read the handbills posted on the wall outside the Bear Cave. They
advertised tonight's cover band--up all the way from Milwaukee. As she walked
into the dimly lit stone building with the cement floor painted green, she
could hear the band butchering the guitar duet at the end of "Hotel
California." Every guy in the place, each of whom knew every nuance of the
song, had a look on his face that suggested that the band physically stank as
much as their rendition of the song.

Steph stepped inside of the bar for the first time in her life. She and Danny
never came down to the bar even though they had both turned "legal" on their
eighteenth birthday.

As a few people noticed her come in, a titter ran through the place. She was
accustomed to a certain amount of elevated testosterone levels due to her
reputation as a "hot little fuck" and a bona fide "screamer." There had always
been a certain amount of restraint because of Danny, however. Now, the male
hormones in the air were palpable to her. An intensely erotic feeling came over
her, and also a tinge of a dark feeling directed at Danny. Something inside was
saying, "His loss!"

She walked across the dance floor where no body ever danced except to slow
songs, and she smiled at several people she knew. Lucy was sitting at a table
with Mike. She decided she would get a drink and then intrude on their space.
She slid up to the bar, and noticed that there were a few of the local boys
headed in her direction. Before they could get to her, though, Carrie Radtke,
the very butch bartender, offered her a drink "on the house."

Steph soon found herself confronted with a semicircle of young men, all facing
toward the spot where she leaned her petite little body against the bar. She
smiled and talked to each of them for a little while. They would wander in and
out, and ask for a "dance later." Steph soon found that she had spent an hour
there, consumed several free drinks, and was feeling very tipsy.

She noticed out of the corner of her eye, that Tom le Beau, a powerfully built
but short little logger had been staring at her intently. Seeing that he had
finally gained her attention, he purposefully strode up to the band and handed
the front man twenty bucks. Then he walked back to her and said, "I just paid
that asshole twenty bucks to play a slow song just so that I could have the
honor of a single dance with you. Please say, yes." le Beau was both polite and
a little scary, but Steph was already in a "What the hell," kind of mood due to
the amount of alcohol packed into her little body. Besides, she had come here
to shake Danny's dust off of her shoes. She offered her hand.

As Eric Clapton's "Wonderful Tonight" received a loving but amateurish
treatment from the band, Steph found herself being held tightly by the strong
little man. He was only five-and-a-half feet tall, which made him only four or
five inches taller than Steph. Steph had always been turned on by strong hands
and shoulders, though, and those le Beau had. He was "French Canadian," which
meant one thing in Montreal, but in local terms meant he had both French and
Indian--probably Chippewa or Pottawotami --bloodlines. He had dark hair and
piercing dark eyes and a short beard. He was twenty years older than Steph and
after telling her she was "the foxiest lady in town", didn't really know what
to say to her. She liked the feeling of his arms, however, and by the end of
the dance, she had her hands on his ass. When the music ended, she gave him a
kiss on the cheek and headed back to her place at the bar. She noticed Lucy
again, and meant to get over to her, but couldn't shake herself free of the
boys who kept talking to her.

Two of the more persistent admirers Steph had that evening were Rick and Scott
Schultz. The brothers were supposedly two of Danny's closest friends, but Steph
had always felt that they would have taken her even when she was with Danny.
Now, they were certainly not going to impose any chivalrous "cooling off"
period on themselves. They were all over her. Rick was older, but the two were
so similar as to be interchangeable in most ways. Lean and lanky, they leered
over Steph like vultures, but she didn't mind. She was seeking libido without
sentiment or any other restraints. She would lean up against them when they put
an arm around her, and she occasionally caressed their forearms or biceps as
she stood absentmindedly chatting.

As the evening wore on, Steph forgot all about talking to Lucy and Mike. She
didn't even notice when Mike left and Lucy moved over to the bar to talk with
Carrie. Steph was buzzing from the alcohol and from the desires building up in
her body. She knew she was about to take the first chance she got to slip out
of there and fuck someone.

Scott Schultz offered her the opportunity. He asked her if she wanted to "split
out into the alley behind the bar and catch a buzz." She didn't hesitate in
accepting the offer, and actually led him by the hand out the back door. To
Scott's dismay, his brother, le Beau, and two other boys, (one a tall redhead
Steph knew from somewhere and the other, a boy she knew to be at least two
years too young to be in the bar) followed them out--uninvited.

Scott fired up a joint and took a big hit. He motioned for Steph to come toward
him and he took her in his arms and exhaled the hit into her mouth. She swiped
her tongue across his as they came apart and said, "Thank you for sharing." It
became a game, then, to take a hit and "share" it with Steph. They went around
the circle, swapping smoke for a swipe with her tongue.

Steph was getting very turned on by the terrible raunchiness of her own
behavior, but soon found that she was also getting dizzy from the low grade
"ditch-weed" Scott had brought. She looked around the bare dirt area in which
they stood for a bucket or something to sit on. She settled for a little wood
and chicken-wire cage the bar used to lock up their snow-blower and sports
equipment. She sat on top of it and leaned against the adjacent wall and closed
her eyes. She could feel the men staring at her, waiting to see what came next.

"You fuckin' idiot!" Rick Schultz snapped at his brother. "That shit made her
pass out!"

"What do we do now?" came the voice of the young one. "She's passed out."

"I AM NOT pa-shed out," Steph slurred without opening her eyes. "I'm waiting
for the sh-pinning to sh-top, but I can feel your naughty little eyes on me!"

She teased, now, "I think you all want to 'fuck' me!" She raised her voice to a
falsetto on the word.

"No shit, Kojak, what was your first clue?" answered the young one.

They all grumbled and told him to shut up. Then, they silently waited for
Steph's next move.

Steph was no longer dizzy, and though her thoughts were heavily impeded by the
chemicals in her system, she hesitated a moment before making that move. Up
until this point, she had admittedly become a, monogamous, nymphomaniac but not
the "little slut" people liked to claim she was. If she went ahead with this,
she definitely became that little slut. There were some little bells tinkling
somewhere in her subconscious, but there were sirens blaring in her body. And,
besides, doing this did something to Danny, even if she wasn't sure what.

She slid down off of the chicken wire and to her knees on the bare dirt. The
pounding bass rhythm from the band in the bar stimulated her already raging
body. "Let'sh boogie, boys," she said, waving them toward her.

le Beau was the fastest on the draw and the most aggressive. His short, thick
cock was out in a heartbeat, and he muscled himself into position right in
front. Steph opened up and tasted only the second cock of her lifetime. A
thrill shot through her, and her nipples felt like they were ready to jump
right through her t-shirt. She grabbed the base of his penis with her thumb and
two fingers and began pumping as she licked and sucked the glans.

She reached out with her left hand, and somebody guided it onto a long skinny
dick, probably one of the Schultz boys'. She began pumping it hard. She was not
about to delicately play with these things for an hour each. Her object was to
get them off as fast and as often as she could. She could tell that after only
a minute or so, she had le Beau about ready to blow his load. He'd probably had
a hard-on all night. She took her fingers off of his dick and started taking it
deeply into her mouth, swirling her tongue as she did. She reached out with her
right hand and felt a rough male hand guide it to a fairly large penis. It had
to be that tall red-head guy whom she knew. What the hell was his name?

She had a penis in each hand and one in her mouth. She was a flurry of pumping
and sucking. The whole time, she was getting more and more aroused by how
horribly slutty it all was. There was an elation, a freedom, and a sensation of
delightful hedonistic selfishness. This was her. She would do as she pleased,
and men would love to do it with her.

There were hands on her ass, and she was lifted and turned so that the cage was
no longer at her back. Somebody pulled down her shorts, and she could tell that
one of the Schultz's and the young kid were beginning to feel her tight, moist
pussy. It was arousing, but she was no where near her screaming point.

le Beau couldn't stand it anymore, he pulled out just as he began to cum, and
fired it into Steph's face and onto her shirt. He grabbed her by the hair and
used the hair to wipe the last of his jism off his penis. Steph's rhythm was
broken by the act, because it was a little rougher than she would have liked,
but it was over in a second, and she shifted her mouth to the redhead kid.

She locked her lips onto his head, and gently tugged with her teeth. Near the
edge to begin with, he couldn't hold on anymore. His big penis erupted in her
mouth. He gently held her by the back of her head, and kept her on the shaft
until it was drained. She felt hot liquid rolling down her chin, but she licked
the last of it off his dick and cupped his balls lightly as she finished.

There was still one more penis in front of her, she turned to it and locked on.
Her mouth was still full of cum--she just had too much going on in her body to
swallow a whole load--and she used it as a lubricant to let her lips and tongue
fly up and down the shaft of the penis.

"Oh, Christ, that's fuckin gross!" the kid said loudly. Somebody pushed him
down, and le Beau told him to go the fuck home. Steph didn't hear him again, so
he must have left.

She was working hard on the long skinny penis of a Schultz boy when she felt a
marvelous sensation in her groin. In one smooth stroke, the other Schultz had
slid his long, thin penis deep up inside of her tiny pussy. He kept moving
slowly and with a slight clockwise rotation that made it brush her clit once
each time around. Now, she was reaching the point where she was going to lose
control. "A-aaaah--unnnh--unnnh," she started with a small moaning. All around
her, she could sense that everyone had been waiting for this moment. This was
good, she thought. This was good, no sentiment or restraint, just libido. She
began to let her urge to vocalize run, "UNNNH! UNNNNNNH!" It was almost a
growl, and the vibrations from it pushed the boy in her mouth over the top. He
tensed up so much that he lost his balance, and with his pants around his
ankles, he had no way of catching it. He fell over backwards as the others
hooted and howled, and he shot his load on himself.

The boy behind her was really beginning to hammer his long shaft into her
pussy, and Steph was ecstatic. "YESSS! YESSS! DO IT! DO IT!---OHHHH THAT'S
GOOD!" Then, she spoke softly for a moment, "Oh god! Oh god, that's it! Here,
give me your hand!" He reached around and put his hand in hers, she put it on
her clit, and showed him how to stroke her. She opened her eyes and saw that
both le Beau and the redhead sat right in front of her and stroked their
penises as they watched.

"YOU BASTARDS! YOU FUCKIN' BASTARDS! YOU LOVE IT! OH! OH! OH!" Steph could not
believe how long it was taking her to cum, but she had never fucked drunk
before, "HERE IT IS! HERE IT IS! O-HHHHHHHHH SHi-i-i-i-IIIIIIT! YESSS! YESS!
YES! YEs! Yes! yes..." Her voice diminished for a moment as she found herself
out of breath from the orgasm that finally shook her. At almost the same time,
she could feel the boy inside was ready to cum.

Suddenly, le Beau shot past her. Just as the boy pulled out and started to cum
onto Steph's back, le Beau grabbed his penis and placed the tip at her asshole.
"What the hell are you doing?" the boy shouted. She could feel him wrestle away
from le Beau. Steph was exhausted and a little sick to her stomach from such a
workout on top of booze and reefer. She was vaguely aware of the Schultz boys
leaving and muttering about the crazy "little motherfucker." She could also
tell that someone was fingering around her anus, and smearing jism into the
hole. She was lying face first on the ground, and couldn't really move. She was
about to ask him to stop fingering her when she realized that he was going to
do something else.

The stocky little man pinned Steph's tiny hips to the ground, and straddled her
legs and ass. She'd had anal sex before, but never roughly. le Beau pushed his
thick little penis hard into her ass, and his hands gripped the sides of her
hips and buttocks painfully. He used his thumbs to pull her tight cheeks apart.
The penis stretched her tiny hole, and she began to whimper and moan, but she
did not tell him to stop. As it got all the way up inside her, the sensation
began to bring her out of her collapse, and she struggled to raise her hips up.
The powerful hands on her would not let her rise, and she began to gyrate and
grind instead. She had accepted the inevitability of this moment--in fact she
had never been fully opposed to it--and tried to capitalize on the sensation of
being roughly ass-fucked in an alleyway behind a bar. She reached her hand
beneath her, and managed to squeeze it through all the way down to her clit,
she began to stroke it as best she could while the man on top of her pounded
away in her ass.

She could hear him grunting and straining, and was slightly perplexed as to why
he didn't let her into a better position so she could help him. She was going
to say something when they heard the single bark of a cop's siren at the other
end of the alley.

le Beau pulled out quickly and scrambled away back into the bar, leaving her
lying on her face in the dirt with her shorts around her ankles. Steph
struggled to get up, but the chemical warfare coursing through her body and the
pure exhaustion was too much. She already had resigned herself to being
arrested when she sensed another presence.

The big redhead kid was still there. He had pulled his shorts back on and
scooped up Steph. He raced for the back door of the bar and flung it open. He
opened the door of the women's bathroom to the immediate left of the exit and
dropped her on the floor. The cops, not finding the screaming woman cited in
their complaint, drove on by.

Steph heard a few giggles somewhere in the bathroom, but couldn't get her eyes
open to look around. Whoever was in there just left her lying half-naked on the
floor. Steph drifted off....

She awoke a few minutes later to the sensation of cold water being splashed on
her face. She pried her eyes open and saw the blonde hair she half-expected to
see. "Lu-shee! Lu-shee! You resh-cued me!"

"Sure Steph, whatever you say," Lucy sounded annoyed.

"Are you mad because I'm a bad little girl, Lu-shee?" Steph was sitting propped
up against a wall.

"I'm mad because you're a careless little girl, Steph. Actually not really mad
at all come to think of it, more worried," Lucy's voice softened. Steph closed
her eyes. She felt a cool compress made from paper towels stroke her face. Then
she felt Lucy delicately put her panties and shorts back in place. The big girl
tried to scrub Steph's knees with the towels. "This shit won't work. Listen, do
you have a purse here?"

Steph didn't look up. "Nope, all my money's in my pocket-sh!" She was talking
in a playful, childlike tone.

"My purse is behind the bar with Carrie. I'm going to go get it and then take
you home and clean you up. You're in no shape to let your folks see you."

"My parents could care less if I died!" Steph shouted and slumped her head down
onto her knees. Lucy didn't respond, but the door opened and Steph was alone.
She drifted off again...

Steph awoke hanging over someone's shoulder. She was outside, and someone was
loading her into a car. She flopped onto the seat with her legs outside.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Steph heard Lucy's voice shouting
from about twenty feet away. There was fear and urgency in her voice. Steph's
"fight or flight" reflexes began to bring her around again. She was half in and
half out of Tom le Beau's truck. le Beau was facing away from her and toward
Lucy who was approaching quickly.

"Mind your own business, you fucking overgrown dyke," he growled.

"I'm taking that poor girl home to clean her up, you fucking son of a bitch!
You made quite a mess out of her!"

"She loved every minute of it!" he sneered. "I think she wants some more."

Steph staggered to her feet. She leaned against the truck door. She couldn't
quite manage to speak.

"She's had enough, you sick bastard, let her go!"

"Why? So you and your dyke friends can get a crack at her. She'd rather be with
me."

Steph tried to call out to Lucy, but le Beau grabbed her and hoisted her onto
the seat again. It took her wind, because she landed on his toolbox. She felt
le Beau's grip on her legs suddenly break. She sat up to see that Lucy had
pulled him away from the truck.

Now, Lucy was a half-foot taller than le Beau, but he was a very strong man.
And although she was in good shape and had a little meat on her bones, she was
a nineteen year old basically slender girl, and he was a thirty-eight year-old
piece of scrap iron. He slammed an elbow up into her chest and knocked her back
a few steps. She gasped, having never been hit so hard before.

With her long arms, she grabbed his hair behind his ears and pulled him into
her. She brought a knee up into his stomach, but he flat out punched her in the
crotch. He hooked his left arm around her back and delivered two more vicious
fists to her groin. Lucy screamed slightly at the pain, let go of his hair and
slumped to the ground. le Beau turned and headed back toward the truck.

Lucy did not stay down, however, and she came up behind him and punched him
between the shoulder blades. It was a hard punch, but le Beau did not stagger.
He turned slowly on her and then snatched a handful of blouse, pulling her in
close to him. He drew back his fist to punch her in the face--and crumpled to
the ground.

Steph stood behind him, the heavy toolbox in her hand. She had managed to clock
him hard, and he was out cold. She found her voice. "Oh my god! Oh my god! Did
I kill him?"

He began to twitch slightly. Lucy looked at him and saw his chest expand
beneath him. "No," she moaned, still in pain from the punches to her groin,
"but we'd better get out of here."

In her stupor, Steph let the toolbox drop, and it landed squarely on le Beau's
back. Lucy took her by the hand, picked up her own purse and got her drunken
little friend into the Plymouth Gran Fury Lucy had bought from her parents.
They drove home wordlessly, breathing heavily from the exertion and
exhilaration of their first real fight. As they got out of the car and headed
into the house where Lucy rented an upstairs apartment from her mother, Steph
broke the silence, "We kicked his ass, you know!"

"We got lucky, sweetheart. He was winning."

Steph stopped for a minute. She brought her hand up to her mouth, "Oh my god!
Lucy, did you just save my life?"

Lucy thought for a minute as she worked the key into the lock. "No, he's a
sick, sadistic misogynist pig, but he wouldn't kill you. He might really have--
done bad things to you. And nobody would have held him liable because you had
done so much with him willingly in front of other people."

"You think I'm a slut," Steph said, calmly, but hurt, as she climbed the stairs
behind Lucy.

"No. I think you're careless, but I wouldn't think anything negative of you if
you fucked the whole town. I just don't want to see you get hurt," Lucy said
the last part softly as she opened the door into her upstairs apartment.

Steph stepped into the apartment and past Lucy. When Lucy closed the door,
Steph turned to her and put her arms around the tall girl's waist. "Thank you,
Lucy. Thank you." She held on tight for a long time, and Lucy hesitantly
returned the hug. "Lucy," Steph said, nuzzling against the breasts in front of
her face. "I'm not really drunk anymore."

"You do seem better," Lucy said softly, a little nervously.

"I want you to know that before I do this," Steph said as she pulled away from
Lucy's arms. Steph looked Lucy in her soulful brown eyes and then leaned up to
kiss her on the mouth. Lucy began to pull back, but Steph reached up and
brought her down to her lips. She slid her tongue into Lucy's mouth, and cupped
a breast with her other hand, leaving no doubt as to the meaning of the kiss.

"Steph--"

"Lucy, I know you go both ways. And I know you love sex. Danny and Mike were
too close for me not to know some of the things that went on. I'm not going to
try to fuck you tonight, Lucy, but I do want to do it--soon. I want to try it
with a woman, and I want it to be you."

"Steph--" the voice was the voice of a reasonable person talking to an
overanxious one.

"Lucy--" Steph imitated back. "I know that you think I'm talking out of
gratitude and drunkenness, but I really will want you just the same tomorrow."

"It's not that, Steph," Lucy smiled. "It's just that I think my pussy is going
to be sore for about a week. That son of a bitch really hit me hard."

Steph and Lucy both laughed, and realized that doing so physically hurt. Their
bodies were battered in many different ways. They were smudged with dirt and
other things Steph had picked up along the way.

"Wanna take a shower?" they asked simultaneously.

That night, as they stood under the hot shower in a naked embrace, Steph felt a
moment of comfort and security that would be rare in her "lost summer." In the
next few months, Steph did indeed seem to be trying to fuck the whole town--but
one or two at a time. She would have tremendous sexual thrills which would take
her right into a wild first month of college. Those days ended abruptly with
the discovery of her unexpected pregnancy. Within a year, she would be married
to Ted Sandiman, the 35 year-old salesman who turned out to be the child's
father.

Amidst all the madness, however, Steph would find moments of passionate love-
making and tender affection in the arms of the girl whose long fingers gently
washed Steph's delicate body in the shower that night. And there were a few
moments when Steph began to think that maybe she could someday utter those
words that she had never been able to say to Danny.

e-mail comments to: billuvrites@hotmail.com

--Outlines and rough drafts are in progress for "Amazon Cafe" the next story in
this series.--